( Updated 12/17/21 ) 

          Britain watched France carefully from the other side of the table. Despite the endless rows of fruit, pastries, and flowers, she sat still refusing to grab anything. For a little while, he believed that she might not have been hungry, but the stubborn and annoying face said otherwise. A servant, presumably someone close to her sat close providing a friend to speak to. Everything that belonged to her, belonged to that one servent. He hadn't much information on her, but it wasn't hard to tell that she was strong and could make up her own mind. But on the other hand, when her stubbornness wasn't showing, she constantly looked lonely and bored. It was something Britain could strangely relate to. She had been stuck in the palace for a good week or so, and he was starting to notice some different tendencies and things about her. 

 France herself was strange, unlike any royal Britain had ever met. She was extremely strong-willed, and would clearly speak her mind if it was needed. The first few days she made it more than clear she was in control of her own actions, and not a display for people to use. Despite her attitude especially towards her father, the princess was unusually quiet and reserved. She didn't need nor want much, a book and a friend were good enough for her. In general, France tried to stay as far away from Britain as she could, but the prince didn't blame her. It was awkward living with the person you were meant to marry. He didn't have the guts to say it, but she was generally a good pick out of all the snobby and rude princesses of the world. She was gentle and sweet around the ones she loved, and he couldn't deny she was pretty as well. Her brown hair was silky and waved just below her shoulder, and her eyes were a mellow lavender that reminded him of the Wisteria trees he used to climb. Her body was petite, with small curves that were probably meant to be hidden by the tight dresses she wore.

France was a lot smaller than him, but that didn't bother him one bit. It wasn't like he had a choice either way, but Britain believed he could live with France. Even if was just for the better of both kingdoms. 

 Ever since the female's arrival, the Brit had invested his time into trying to look like a royal, even if he hated it. France could absolutely care less but her father looked impressed with how in order and devoted he was.  His own father had actually given the poor prince a break, giving him a compliment once in a blue moon. Despite the chaos, Britain was nowhere near ready to rule any kingdom, or even be known as a king. But he was willing to put the best effort forward even if it was only for France. Over the week he had also been noticing his brothers trying to gain the attention of the female. They were constantly trying to flirt with her and show her what a sweet and pretty girl she was. It urked Britain slightly, but France had handled it well for the most part. There was no reason to intervene, she could handle herself. 

" Whit ye lookin' at Romeo? " Scotland barged into Britians thoughts, throwing an apple at the prince's head. Britain rubbed his head with a wince before turning to the side of the table where his siblings sat. The Brit straightened, crossing his arms with a glare. Ireland stuck his head out in front of the table, snickering slightly at the youngest child's face.

" I'm not looking at anyone " 

" You sure you're not looking at France~?"

" I'm sure I'm not "

" 'en yoo're lookin' at irelain? Ah ken he's quite th' attractife cuddie. "

" Will you two just shut up for three minutes please " Britain threw his hands in the air? Now that Britain was eighteen he could be grown up and mature, but his siblings still acted like four-year-olds trapped in adult bodies. The Brit had gotten used to their behavior, but it was, to say the least, embarrassing around another world power. 

" Och am sorry yer highness. Ah hink we micht be in need a strong beverage. Whit dae ye hink irelain?" Scotland poked Ireland's shoulder as the latter rose from his chair. Ireland started to say something but was cut off when his brother tugged him past the table, winking at France before exiting.

Britain felt he should be ashamed of their behavior, but he could care less. Brushing a few crumbs off his suit, the prince glanced back across the table expecting to see France, but all that was left was an empty chair. 

" What the- " he whispered under his breath. Britian looked around the room, and despite it sounding childish,  glanced under the table only to catch the attention of the French king. Britian sat back up properly the second he saw the king flinch. 

" Please excuse me " the advocacy placed down his wine glass on the table. Britians father nodded with a firm smile. Trying not to look snoopy, the prince returned to his breakfast,  glancing back once to watch the French allying king exit the room. 

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" Just leave me along you evil man " France pulled her hand away from her father's grasp. It hadn't been ten minutes and he had noticed she left. France wasn't afraid to admit it, she hated it here. She missed the sweet smell of Paris and watching the sunset over the lavender fields. She wanted to go home. All the people staring at her, and the awkward tension between the two kingdoms was already getting to her. It was just as bad as she expected. 

" I take my eyes off from you for Trois seconds and you run away. We had a talk about how to act in front of these people La France. "  

The princess grimaced, trying to tug her hand away. There was no way she was getting married to that Brit. He looked like an exact replication of his terrible father. The terrible father that had killed her mother years before. She bit her lip. 

France couldn't even believe that her father was considering this. After all, they had done to her, to the family. France hated the British crown in one sense or another. They were constantly in war and fighting, made no rational sense, and only cares for themselves. Her father wasnt above their behavior either. They were all like that. All the fancy rich people, old men, and discussing political aids she constantly had to listen to. Quite frankly she was beyond upset that she was stuck with a lifelong enemy's son. It couldn't have been anyone else, could it? She would have even taken the Spanish Empire's son over the Brit. 

" I'm not asking you. Did you see that little hellspawn? He's already in love with you. And as you are my property, and under the care of my government, you shall do what I ask. I thought that school would knock some sense into your mind, but I guess I was wrong. " He quickly snatched her writ back, his grip tight enough to give France a bruise on her white skin. The princess gasped and put on her best sad face. Maybe that could change his mind, despite being mere property to him, France was still his daughter. 

"Please don't do this," she whispered with a sniff. 

"I wouldn't do it if I didn't believe it was for the best," her father rolled his eyes. "Besides, it wouldn't be long until you were queen anyway. You are the only one who could be the one to complete my line. I could have sent you away with someone much worse, but the Brit stood in and saved you. I was going to send you back to the boarding school if it wasn't for them. Your disobedience has spiraled out of control " He shrugged. "We'll deal with it later."

The princess shivered slightly. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck sticking up. Her father was a scary man. Whenever he wasn't threatening someone's life, he was talking about more land, and intimidating others. He was rich, very rich, and used that power to make people fear them. He had the power to literally bring anyone down to his level, and make them feel his inferiority. It was very hard to stand up to someone like that. People didn't want to argue with a rich person, it was pointless. The only person that would ever stand up to him was dead. France had always been afraid of him, ever since she was small. Watching the king, her mind started to throb the second a smirk washed over his face. 

" Now, down to business. I have invited a seamstress to come and make you a dress for the gala tomorrow. After careful consideration, I have decided your marriage is in our best interest. At this party, you will be announcing your engagement, and make it very clear that the French and British empires are coming together on good terms. " he turned around, glancing out the window at the rainy land. 

The princess's eyes widened in shock. France felt her stomach drop. 

 "But we can't!" she cried. "It can't happen like that! I won't accept it!" She looked wildly around, trying to think of an escape.  "You can't do this! You can't just send me off without... without anything!" She looked pleadingly at her father, hoping to somehow stall this awful moment. 

"You're not going anywhere until your dress is finished and you are properly gowned. I trust you can keep yourself entertained," he said condescendingly as a few guards wandered rushing in along with a plump-looking woman with a few bundles of white cloth.  

France was about to pass out. How could this happen to her?

( Hey yallll! Another new chapter! I working on the next, next one that will in fact be a new chapter! Im sorry for this one kinda dragging on, but I hope you enjoy it! This rewrite has been a walk down memory lane, and I really love rewriting it! As always, thank you for the love and support and have a HAPPY NEW YEAR!! )