Apparently Mexico wasn't the only brother who America had a child with. Who could it be, you're probably thinking? Well, if you take a look at Melody Jones/Williams, see her lavender-tinted blue eyes, her light blonde hair, and her slight French accent, you would immediately understand.

The personification of Utah, a female version of everyone's favorite forgotten nation, is the daughter of said nation, Canada.

Though while being her brother's daughter, Melody did have some French blood within her because of the French-Canadian fur trader Étienne Provost visiting her soil in 1825. She was also a Mormon girl because of the Mormon pioneers that colonized her just three human years before she was born in 1850, and lived faithfully by that religion.

As a result, Melody despised liars and those who easily gave in to their sins for no good reason. A few of those people happened to be the other nations. It was quite obvious one day, and Melody had been baking when her mother came home with a seething walk to her. Melody turned off the stove to follow her mother to her room, where the older woman proceeded to scream into her pillow and pull at her hair.

"Mother?" the younger girl called, drawing her mother's attention. Almost instantly, America stopped screaming and looked up at her daughter. Her sky blue eyes were red-rimmed with anger and stress, and it took a minute for that to be covered up.

"I'm sorry Honey, but I'm alright now."

"Mother." Melody looked hard at America, displeased with her for lying. At the sight of her expression, America sighed.

"Okay, I'm not okay, and I may not be for a little while," she admitted.

"Was it them again?"

"Yes."

Melody sighed. "When will they ever learn? I thought that as nations they would be more mature than that."

"Tell them that dear," America grumbled. "I swear to god if this continues, I'm going to be more than happy to shoot them where the sun don't shine."

"Mother!"

"What?"

Yup, Melody despises violence as well, but she understood her mother's feelings.

She would never admit it, but she was disappointed with the nations, who did not compare to her mother when it came to their jobs as personifications. If anything, they lacked the proper skills and personality for the job, and why they were even allowed to do them Melody will never understand. She also was not very fond of her father, even if he did change today, as he had performed a deed he promised himself to never do: harm his family. 

America knew that every time her daughter saw the burn scars that made up Daniel's skin and part of his face or Bernard in one of his violent episodes, her gentle eyes would turn cold and steely with anger, her plump lips would become thin white lines, and her entire posture would scream rage.

That was the huge difference between father and daughter, because unlike Canada, Melody wasn't afraid to speak up and give people a piece of her mind if they provoke her enough, especially if that person was related to her. She was also confident and stood out, also unlike her father.

Though, like her father, Melody was modest, but because of her deserts, she wears the most modest short pants and shirts possible to cope with the heat. It was quite ironic too, because while those two were so alike, they were different, like fire and ice. 

America was almost proud to say that Melody was just like her. Almost.