France blinked blankly as she stared at the piece of thin paper in her hands. She felt as if she was going to vomit as she read the words over in her mind.

" By joining the global signatories of this symbolic treaty, I solemnly vow to enlist my best intentions and efforts in the promotion of goodwill, compassion, and respect between all people, creeds, and nationalities.

I openly welcome all healthy opportunities to develop greater love, understanding, and empathy for my human family around the world. The boundaries and borders of all divisions can be bridged by those who demand that all human beings have hearts, hopes, and fatalities worthy of our efforts to dignify.

I recognize that achieving the dream of a kinder world is more possible because of my unique contributions. World peace is possible, and we must share this small world in greater safety and harmony. By simply stating our desire we sow the seeds of great change. I am that change. I am the dream. I am the difference. I am the future. Let this treaty be a starting point for a new era of understanding. This is my oath of intent to offer an open hand to all who would reach for it in goodwill desiring peace. "

France looked up from her page and stared across the table at the two kings as they stood together in a sharp line, shoulder to shoulder. Her hands shook from under the table as the French Monarchy towered above her small form.

" Let's get started shall we." Britians father gestured the first page of the newly drafted Treaty of the Peace and Cooperation that would define their long-term diplomatic relations. The princess shifted uncomfortably in her chair, glancing at the Prince who looked equally as sick from a few chairs away.

" When you sign these papers, it binds the kingdoms to pursue better trade and world peace. The wording in no way requires us to lay down our weapons, but rather establishes the presence of both of our countries with the message that we seek to move beyond the troubles of the past to a new era of growth and cooperation." The French king nodded as he spoke.

" These papers do not specify the transfer of power, but as of now the formal wedding between the heirs of both the French and British kingdom are set for four months from now. This wedding signifies all power being handed down and the expectation of a new heir to be born after that."

France felt her stomach churn. This really was happening. She was going to throw up. The time had come to sign her life away on a piece of parchment and give herself over to a stranger's control. She didn't want to rule the British kingdom, she didn't want to have children with some stuck-up royal. She wanted to be a normal woman with her own family, her own life.

" There is one final amendment that will be added to the treaty." The French king spoke calmly. Britain's father snapped his head to the other royal and watched closely, almost like he hadn't an idea of what he was talking about

" If there is an instance of wrongdoing, war, mutiny, or any attempt of assassination during this four-month-long wait, my daughter shall be placed in the hands of the German Empire and his son. If it is to happen this formal wedding will be canceled and all power and status of my empire shall belong in the hands of the Germans at that point "

France shivered at the mention of his name. She had a spotty relationship with the Germans, Reich to be more specific.It was true that she had feelings for him at one point but after a while, her feelings were more out of fear for what he could do rather than romanticism.

The two had met each other at random and France admired his fighting spirit and interest in the world. He was a sweet man, tall and good-looking with ambition for the future. He shared the same desire for adventure that she had only dreamed of and their friendship slowly blossomed over time. They would spend much time in the large garden in the spring and he would surprise her with gifts and was such a gentleman that it was easy to fall in love.

They had ' dated ' for a few months and France could say those were some of the best moments of her life. Feeling loved, having someone to kiss you, talking about your dreams and fears. It felt so surreal that she wondered if she would even recognize herself in the future. The two had long agreed that after a few months they would run away from all royal duty, leaving their old life behind and starting a brand new one far away from the crown.

But what France hadn't known at the time was that she was young and naive, almost oblivious to the surrounding world. She thought she could do so much more than she could, and things started to crumble one by one. She watched as her lover changed by the greed and the need for power that every Empire desired. He went from being a gentle and courteous gentleman to someone she didn't know, a man who treated a woman like a trophy, a person with no feelings, or even the right to love, and only her to serve him.

He was obsessed, but she refused to believe it.

She tried to cling to hope but she just couldn't see it anymore. He had fallen from that ideal, turning into a ruthless and forward-thinking man in only but a summer. After a time, her desperation for love and recognition had reached its peak and she hadn't the strength to carry forward. She wanted to see her love happy, but there was no longer a way to do so, and so she left. It broke Reich's heart, and for several months he continued to follow her around like a lost puppy, begging for forgiveness and for her to come back to him.

Despite his best efforts, all France could see was the empty shell of the one she used to love, and completely shut him out of her life in self-pity and heartbreak. She hadn't seen him sense, and part of her felt like it was missing, like a piece of her heart had been snatched and hidden.

In her mind, she knew she was delusional for even thinking she loved him, but a small part of her still hoped that one day he would come back and tell her he loved her. From that day forward she promised that day that she would never love again, and buried the possibility in her mind. It sounded too stupid even to her, but she knew it would be the best. It was better to be married off to the Brit than deal with the memories and hurt of her past love.

It was better this way...

Her eyes darted back and forth as she watched Britain from a few seats away. His face was twisted in one of disgust as he tapped a large pen against the table before signing off his signature in one fluid movement. Her head hung low and she readied herself for the reality of it all.She felt so lost as her hand shakily picked up the pen from the oak table. Memories of her and Reich burned at the back of her mind, placing the tip of the pen on the paper. She knew this was wrong, but she had to do it.

Closing her eyes France felt as the pen drifted from underneath her hand, elegantly writing the letters of her name before it suddenly dropped into the document. Her eyes shot open, wide with panic and her heart started racing.

"No!" France cried out, "No, this is all wrong. This is so wrong. Don't you understand how mad this is? Your own parents, the ones who said they had loved you all your life are selling you away to a fantasy you don't want. They promise great things in your future but they take you right back to where you started! They take you back to the bottom. To a daydream that you thought was real. You're only fooling yourself, they promised you these things, but in truth, they're just playing with you to get rid of you before they have to give you up." she threw the pen across the room in anger, no longer feeling fully in control of her actions.

Her lavender eyes glued to the Brit who gazed back at her with a cold, blank stare. The room went quiet for several seconds and all that could be heard was the rapid pound of France's heart. She sat stubbornly at her spot with crossed arms and a fuming expression on her face. Nothing happened for what seemed an eternity until the French Monarchy properly stood up, his fancy shoes clicking elegantly on the wooden floor. At that second Britain felt all the welcome and warmth vanish from the room. France was going to get it good for this one. The royal slowly marched over towards his daughter, scanned over the document, and using his own pen signed off the rest of the signature. France grimaced.

" Vous ne pouvez pas faire ça. " her eyes burned with fire.

" je peux faire tout ce que je veux " the Monarchy responded, snatching the princesses wrist and firmly gripping it. France's hand whipped out in defense as she was slowly dragged from the room.

"You don't understand! They promised! They promised! They promised that this was something worth fighting for! That this was my dream! They took it from me, they took everything from me!"

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

" Are you sure you alright? " Britain questioned as he pulled a roll of bandage out of a closet and handed it to her.

" I'm just fine, stop asking. I've taken care of myself for years now " She muttered and started to wrap her purple and bruised wrist. The Brit grimaced looking over her face which had a brand new red mark printed on her cheek. He couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for the whole thing that had happened. He didn't even think twice about signing the treaty, and France had taken the fall to warn him.

" I'm sorry about last night. I should have done something more. " Britain stared at the girl, unsure of what to say. It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, but France just laughed her face looking almost psychotic and drained from sleep.

" That's about the smartest thing I've heard you say. But guess what its all over, the treaty was signed and now were partners. Are you happy with yourself " her crystal eyes held daggers as she snarled a sarcastic reply?

" No, I'm not happy about it. I just-"

" Good. Not why don't you go make yourself useful that's not around me " she cut the prince off, throwing the roll of bandage back at him? Britain let out a long sigh and marched off without another word.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Slinking back inside his darkroom the Brit shut the door tightly behind him. He was more than exhausted. After talking to forty foreign representatives and a handful of other annoying political figures he was ready to fall asleep. Being a countryhuman had both a physical and mental demand that he couldn't seem to muster sometimes.

Nothing had really changed much. France and her company had been placed here for almost a month and she was still as stubborn as ever. He had started to become used to the awful looks and his feet being stomped on by a large heeled shoe.

Trying to find a sense of peace in his chaotic life, he had been spending a lot more time around the library lately. It was nice to be alone, without having to put on a happy face and make witty remarks. Books were always his happy place. They were always waiting there, for those rare moments when he wasn't busy. He didn't know what it was about them, but he always felt at home in a library.

Flopping down on his large bed he rolled around, kicking an object under the mattress with a large racket. He wouldn't have felt bad for making such a racket, but it was around six and things had started to slow down for the night. The servants weren't poking at him for anything and France wasn't trailing him around with a list of things she hated. He didn't think he would see much of her until tomorrow anyhow. She had stomped off a few minutes ago, upset about something. He was too tired to deal with it. Rubbing his eyes with a grunt he sat up, knowing he couldn't sleep just yet. His limbs felt so heavy and he was more than ready to hit the hay.

The exhausted prince swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and his feet once again hit an obstructing object from under the bed. He kicked the object once more, unsure of what it was until his mind cleared. It was his priced violin. The instrument had been tucked away after France had arrived. Britain never seemed to find any time to himself to play, so the instrument was locked away and pushed under his bed until it would be used again. A small smile formed on his face as he grabbed the hardcover case and dragged it from the darkness.

Other than being caked with a thin layer of dust the instrument was still in pristine condition. It sparkled in the little light that seeped into the room as he played a few notes. Playing the beautiful instrument brought a different kind of calm over him. Despite the notes being out of tune, and playing the song a bit wrong the lack of practice didn't seem to faze him. His fingers danced across the strings of the violin, almost effortlessly until a quiet knock on the door echoed through the room. He tried to ignore it at first, but when he knocked again his patience started to run thin. Couldn't he ever get a break?!

" Yes... " his voice was empty and hollow.

" Your presence is requested in the dining hall, sir. The city and Dutchess of France has arrived, she is currently waiting for your arrival "

Britain raised an eyebrow. He wasn't expecting anyone to show up, let alone one of Frances's cities. Paris, he thought. It was her capital city.

Capital cities were some of the most important to a country. They were the key to tourism and trade and where essentially the heart of who you were. His capital London was quite the chatterbox and enjoyed scaring everyone whenever he had the opportunity.

He saw London a lot more before England left. The middle child had held the group of siblings together and was more of a father than their actual dad. He was tall and quiet, but always composed and there when everyone needed him to be. Scotland and Ireland would have said otherwise, but the girls were all over him. Britain guessed it was a mix of his large mind and ways of talking to a crowd. He would never really know. Despite being the middle child, he was more similar to Britain than anything. He was set to marry and the wedding was planned despite his best efforts. From the stories, the Brit had heard it was a total fiasco between England and his to-be wife.

The two hated each other to the point where they would have rather faced off than be wed. Things settled down for a little bit and everything seemed normal until he ran away in the middle of the night. Scotland had caught him leaving and he never came back from then forward. Britain hadn't a clue of his whereabouts and no one ever knew where he went. After their father had figured out that he was gone, they had to completely scratch the pact and he was ultimately embarrassed with having to cancel everything. After his disappearance, England quickly faded from Britain's life. All the pictures, his old room, all of his books, they were all trashed and wiped from the existence of the crown. Britain had but a memory left in the form of a small picture he kept hidden under his mattress at all times. He hoped that his brother was safe and had found someplace better than this hellhole. No one deserved to live like this, and the Brit only then realized that.

He was such an utter fool for believing that everything would be fine. He wasn't made to be a ruler. He couldn't even run his own life. He was a man at the mercy of a king who barely treated him as his own son.

" Tell them ill be there momentarily " he packed away the instrument and wandered over to his desk. The empty piles and stacks of work that he had yet to finish sat in front of him, along with an abandoned chess board thrown off to the side. The prince glanced into a small mirror, brushed his hair back, fixed his suit, and was off. Now... He needed something else...

He was quietly walking down the hall when suddenly a voice from the void said "Ooga booga."

The prince jumped slightly and spun around, almost smacking Scotland straight in the face.

"Oi!" Scotland backs away before he could hit him. "Watch where you're flinging your hands!"

The Brit placed a hand on his heart. " You can't scare me like that! "

Scotland chuckled as Ireland and Wales trailed from behind him. He raised an eyebrow and stared at the slightly shorter Welsh man shove Ireland off the side with a groan. Both him and Northern, his older sister had gone on a tour through Europe and must have just returned when he was sulking in his room.

" When did you get back! " he shook his older brother's hand, pulling him into a small hug. Wales glared slightly at Ireland but it softened when the other isle backed off.

" Just got home a few hours ago. I wasnt sure where you were but didn't want to bother ya. Heard you got one heck of a prissy princess on your hands " he whispered like it was a secret. Britian merely nodded his head.

" Never mind that. I heard there is going to be another lass there " Ireland poked his head in between the two, draping his hand over Britain's shoulder. Wales grimaced and backed up.

" You can't try to get with every girl you see, Ireland. I know that might be out of your comprehension, but please try to stop yourself. For Britain's sake."

Ireland rolls his eyes but does let go of Britain and Wales. The Irishman's smile faded slightly " No promises "

" Hurry up you big babies" Scotland shakes his head as he peaks through the door into the dining hall. It seemed that France had already made her way to the large dining room and was sharing a moment with Paris.

" You better listen to this " Wales pushes on his shoulder to get a look. Britain pushed his sibling back in place but couldn't help but listen in. The poor city sounded exhausted as she spoke.

" Is it ever so nice to see you again? Things have been a mess ever since you left. I can't get the regions to ever settle down and all the humans are either excited or upset about this new treaty. We haven't seen any protests yet and hopefully, we can keep it all under control until you return. Either way, everyone sends their love and best wishes and hopes everything is going well between you two. I know how stubborn you could be and oh I dont know.... " Paris rubbed her arm awkwardly, France raised an eyebrow.

" Am I really that bad " she chuckled with an actual sense of humor. Paris shook her head slightly, holding the small wicker basket up higher. A large smile showed across her face as she seemed to remember something.

" Oh my, I almost forgot! I wasnt supposed to do this, but I brought you some baguettes and a bit of wine from back at home. Bordeaux wouldn't let me leave without it. '' she smiled warmly, setting the basket on the floor.

Britain watched closely as France smiled back, actually looking happy for once. Ireland clicked his tongue quietly. " That's one nice French girl... "

" Oh shut up will you" Britain turned around, clunking his brother on the head. Ireland rubbed his forehead, grinning. The Brit thought things over quietly. 

" Alright... I'm going to go in and you- " Britain didn't have time to finish his sentence before Scotland kicked the door wide open. It crashed against the wall and Paris jumped slightly, turning to the door.

" Oops. " Scotland grinned, brushing off his suit. Paris looked to France, then looked back to Scotland with a confused but soft face.

" Bonjour, " she did a small courtesy, brushing her light yellow dress to the side. Ireland pushed past his brothers and stood up straight to the French girl. Her grey eyes blinked a few seconds as the largely taller Irishman leaned down closer to her face.

" Hello! I'm Ireland. You sure look nice " he gently kissed her hand. Paris stuttered for a slight second before letting out a stifled awkward chuckle.

France glared at the Irishman while Britain scrunched up his face in disgust. Ireland was such a flirt and he knew it. Scotland was able to peel his brother away from Paris and France raised an eyebrow, glancing in between the sea of siblings.

"So, there are even more of you? How many brothers do you have inside this family." she placed a hand on her hip. Britain gazed nervously back.

" Yeah, I have quite a few siblings... Wales, Scottie, Ireland, Northern, and Eng... never mind... " He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Paris smiled softly.

" You have a sister and too many regions to even count, give this poor man a break. " she chuckled and picked up the basket. France gave her a ' your supposed to help me ' look before waving everyone over.

" Everything is already finished. Our fathers were supposed to join us for dinner but they got caught up in ' official business '. Sounds like they decided to ditch us... " she waved her hands in the air then bumbled to herself in French. Britain cleared his throat quietly, not used to hearing France speak in such an informal way.

As the group took a seat at the long table, Ireland continued to flirt with Paris while Scotland started rambling on and on about how they were always too occupied to do anything anymore.

France joined in after a few seconds, trying to forget the prince that sat on her left side for the time being. Britain didn't want to fight so he just left it be for the second. Everyone sat down around the table, but it didn't look like anyone was hungry. Paris had an awkward smile as she leaned away from Ireland, scanning the row of brothers.

" So, I heard through the grapevine that a formal treaty has been signed and placed into effect. How are your citizens reacting to such a change " she asked, smiling cutely. The room went silent. Ireland looked at Scotland, Scotland glanced and Wales and Wales stared at Britain. The prince cleared his throat, trying not to cause a scene.

" The nation is surprisingly quiet," he said, timidly but in an honorable tone. Paris slumped in her chair with a jealous look.

" I wish that was the case back at home. Our people are torn between the decision. The majority of our population has sided with the treaty and a way to boost relationships and foreign trade, but others are... Upset to say the least. I won't deny that. We're lucky we haven't had any formal protests about it yet. I don't think anyone wants this turning into a formal dispute " she grabbed a small slice of cucumber, chewing it slowly. Wales nodded his head in agreement.

" The townspeople seemed receptive at first, but now that it has been ratified, they seem more comfortable to the current situation. I think once people are informed about the treaty, they will support it in due time." Scotland piped in, nodding as well.

" It always ends up in such fashion. Humans are unlike us countries. We are here to make diplomatic decisions on behalf of them, and find what's best for our people and Empire. Humans do not adjust well to change and prefer to have things as they always have been. We strive to make change while they despise it. Even some of the best decisions in our history took time to get accepted. We must go on and make the best of our situation despite the circumstances. " France closed her eyes with a pause. Britain felt something itching at the back of his mind.

" I think it's of vital importance that we all understand if we should choose to pursue this new alliance, we won't just be talking anymore. We'll have to show them how capable of maintaining the peace we are. " Britain pointed out quietly. Paris nodded, a careful glint in her eyes as the faint sound of an Orchestra began to play a French tune.

" That is the problem. How do we show this alliance is genuine? They have seen our incapabilities in working together in both domestic and military situations. If we really want to make an impression, it has to be a show of strength and arms towards one another. "

Britain took a small sip from his wine glass, listening to the music and feeling an unsettling sense of serenity wash over him. He watched as the countries continued to speak, but their voices seemed to drown out from his mind . The day was almost over, and all he had to do was sit through this.

" We do have a few options. " France shifted in her chair, nodding to all the countries around. " If we are able to show our willingness to cooperate and showed determination to become more of world power, we may be able to get some minor support and are able to exploit opportunities. " Scotland leaned forward, an eager look on his face.

" We know our people well enough to know that their main desire is power and dominance over other countries. Well, it's been our number one goal as a country and will continue to be. " he landed in closer grabbing Wales' attention as well.

" But let's not let the desire for power come in between us and our main goals as a nation and people. The desire to improve our relations with others is still strong, despite all the efforts we make. We must find a balance of what we want from others and what our own people need. " Wales nodded, raising his wine.

A pleased hum buzzed through the crowd and Britain felt something he had never felt at one of these meetings. Excitement. He looked over at Paris, suddenly giddy at the way her eyes seemed to light up. Her expression as she spoke was one of wonderment like she couldn't believe what she was saying. He looked over at Wales, surprised at the way he seemed mesmerized by Paris' speech as well. He gave a small smile at his brother's reaction and grabbed his glass, letting out a low, contented hum. The prince smiled back to stopped when his eyes met France's face. He set his glass down and took a hard long stare.

Britain saw something inside of France he had yet to ever see. He saw peace and understanding for one another. His mind slurred at the thoughts. Maybe normal France wasn't so normal at all, maybe her actions were being influenced by he father. They were both puppets to the royal family, but he had yet to know the extent of power her father shared over her. He stared at the French princess as Paris seemed to remember something once more, almost jumping from her chair.

" Oh my, please do excuse my forgetfulness. I suppose I'm a bit tired tonight. Now, on the topic of your wedding... " she eyed Britain with some caution, almost as if he were a criminal. France watched from the side, a scowl once more written across her face. " As a representative of the regions and cities of France, we have all come to an agreement that this will be the biggest French wedding ceremony to ever happen!

The ceremony will take place in the back gardens of Notre Dame and a decent amount of Empires, as well as the entirety of French people, have been invited. We have decided that white and yellow roses and Lilly's will be our colors, white and yellow represent the purity of your union and the happiness you will bring to all your subjects. After you two are formally wed there is a carriage leading straight to the Eifel Tower to which there will be an afterparty and talks of peace with other Empires as you would then be a combined nation. The flowers are already being ordered and our chefs are preparing the menu! There is much talk of this wedding amounting to perhaps the largest event in all of France! We have drawn worldwide attention to your union and we want to show our appreciation for this treaty as a whole "

Britain felt like he was overhearing some sort of dream. It sounded nice, but being married to France was something he just couldn't bring himself to do. Over the past month, he had thought about being like England. Taking the easy way out and simply running away. Sure, his entire existence would seem like a joke then but it was better than getting married to someone who hated him.

Britain let out a sigh, pouring himself more wine. He was just going to blank out and hope the next day was better.