CHAPTER 1

Biting steel flashed like lightning, clashing against each other to make a
brassy thunder roar. The air was dry and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, but
Austria was soaking wet, covered from head to toe with slick liquid. It was
raining Austrian blood. A maelstrom of death.

He spun around, searching desperately for an ounce of hope to keep him

from surrendering mentally. His soldiers were being slaughtered before his
very eyes, thrown mercilessly into the whirlpool of Prussian rage that tore
them apart and spilled their blood. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his
sword and gritted his teeth. The burning desire for revenge coursed through
his nerves, making his heart pump so quickly he was certain it would leap
from his chest.

He fought. He swung his sword and clashed against Prussian force. He could
feel the strength and power behind their swords and he could feel himself
weakening. But the sight of his dead men battered and broken on their own
soil ignited a fire in him that urged him to fight on. But no matter how hard
he battled or how strongly he defended himself from the sharp metal flying
toward him, it did not stop his men from falling.

"You'd be better off surrendering."

Austria could still hear Prussia's words sting in his ears. He gritted his teeth
and let out a yell before pushing the Prussian soldier back. Prussia's voice
sent tremors down his spine. He will not give the nation the pleasure of
victory, even if it killed Austria. If he was going to die, he was taking the
Prussian with him.

Fight.

Defend.

Kill.

That was a soldier's only purpose.

Dying was not part of it.

"Why, what do we have here?"

Austria barely had time to lift his arm and block the blow before Prussia's
sword could slice his face in half. The blade was a centimeter away from the
tip of his nose, threatening to skin it off. Austria mustered all his strength and
shoved the blade away, stepping back.
"Someone lost his way to the infirmary and ended up in the big boys'
battlefield," Prussia said coldly. "Don't worry; you've got a hospital bed
reserved just for you waiting there."

Austria didn't have time to retort. Prussia swung his sword at his head and it
was by sheer luck that Mariazell was not spliced off as Austria quickly avoided
the blow. He lunged toward Prussia, aiming for his heart, but his attack was
swiftly parried.

Austria could see Prussia's snarky grin flash like the steel sword as the blade
swiped at Austria's side, drawing blood. Austria forced back a yelp of pain as
his uniform became bloodied.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Prussia said mockingly, dramatically putting a bloody hand to
his mouth in feigned shock. "I accidentally got blood all over your luxurious
coat! But those aren't too hard to get for snobby fops like you, are they?"

Prussia's words were as sharp as his swords, digging their nails into Austria's
scalp and painfully clinging onto him. He raced to stab Prussia, but the other
nation easily wounded Austria on his other side, almost identical to the
previous one.

He was only playing around with Austria.

Austria was fighting, but he knew he was losing. The more Austria faltered,
the more energetic Prussia became, his blows coming faster and stronger
than the previous one. Prussia was beaming as he fought, almost laughing
with mirth. This was his home field, his expertise, his calling.

"Come on, now, Austria," Prussia jeered before wounding Austria's leg.
Austria stumbled, blood flowing freely from his knee. "Enough dancing. Why
don't you try fighting for once?"

Austria bit back his tongue, knowing that any sign of anger would only satisfy
Prussia even more. He staggered as he battled, his right leg barely able to
support him.

"This is boring," Prussia sang. He wasn't even out of breath. "Let's kick this up
a notch, shall we?"

Without warning, Prussia grabbed Austria's neck with one hand while the
other blocked Austria's sword from slitting his own throat. Austria gasped for
air, flailing under Prussia's grip as he swung his sword toward Prussia's torso.
Prussia deftly blocked the sword with his blade, tightening his grip on Austria.

"I'm curious!" Prussia shouted, his burgundy eyes flashing mischievously. He

knocked Austria's sword out of his hands. "What exactly happens to a nation
if his head is cut off? Can they still 'not die?'" He brought his sword to
Austria's neck. Suddenly, all signs of jollity slid off Prussia's face, now
replaced with inexplicable anger. "Any bets, Austria?"

Austria took the moment to strike Prussia with his free hand in the chest,
pushing himself out of Prussia's clutches. He stumbled back, relishing the
taste of cold, free air in this throat before he felt slashing pain run through
both legs. He was forced onto his all fours, his muscles and bones screaming
in agony.

"You're wasting your time," Prussia hissed, standing before Austria. He used
the toe of his boot to lift Austria's chin up to look at him in the eye. "You can't
beat me. Nobody even cares if you win this war. They don't give a damn."

Prussia used the tip of his sword to unhook Austria's glasses off his face,
deliberately cutting a thin line across Austria's temple. Austria could barely
see anything without them. Now the entire world was just a colorful blur of
black, red, and white.

"Hell, England doesn't even give a damn," Prussia said. "Who have you got
left?"

"Hungary," Austria muttered.

Prussia froze. He grabbed Austria by the hair and wrenched him up. Austria
winced as he felt blood stream down his face.

"Who did you say?" Prussia asked dangerously.

Austria refused to speak immediately, drawing out the silence just a little
longer to irritate Prussia. "Hungary is my ally. She'll do anything to defeat
you."

Crack. Austria's glasses shattered in Prussia's hands. Prussia let out a growl
before knocking his fist against the top of Austria's head, sending him
sprawling on the ground once more. Austria could feel the sword tickle his
scalp. He was completely under Prussia's mercy.

"Well," Prussia said acidly, grinding his heel on Austria's spine. "Looks like I
have myself a checkmate."

Austria felt his ankles and wrists bound with thick chains as a blindfold was
forcefully wrapped over his eyes. Austria knew he had no chance of escape,
but he struggled and flailed nonetheless, trying to fight back the binds. Panic
spiked his mind as he was dragged onto his feet, his wounded knees
threatening to give out under him.

"You're lying," Prussia said, his voice rising severely, "Don't lie to me about
her. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't. It never will."
Austria didn't need to be able to see to know that Prussia's grave
countenance suddenly brightened into a grisly grin.

"Come on, then," Prussia said loudly. "Let's go show Old Fritz what a sorry
excuse for an enemy you are."

CHAPTER 2

Austria was thrown down to the floor of the prison; the dagger was pointed
straight at his temple. He spat out hot blood, letting it dribble down his chin
and stain his already soiled uniform. His hands were bound tightly behind his
back, cruelly cutting off proper circulation. How was he supposed to use
those hands to play the piano with if they were going to be denied blood?

He barely suppressed a groan of pain and blearily opened his eyes to stare
up at his enemy. The prison was dim and he could barely see anything
without his glasses, but he could still recognize the dark red eyes glaring
down at him.

Prussia slammed his fist down against Austria's skull, sending him sprawling
on the cold stone. Pain shot through Austria's skull and his sight blurred
momentarily. He clenched his teeth; he had known that Prussia's military was
harsh, but this was just ridiculous.

"My apologies. This prison may not be up to your lavish standards," Prussia
said in a voice even colder than the prison. "Not everyone can live the life of
an aristocrat free of suffering."

"Oh, that's quite all right," Austria said lightly. "I don't expect much from
frugal and pitiable Prussians. My standards were low to begin with."

"Well, I'm glad we're both at odd ends of each other," Prussia shot back. "I
didn't expect anything at all from the Austrian army either."

Prussia slowly paced around Austria like a patient vulture. Austria kept his
gaze steadily before him, not even flickering toward Prussia when he passed
by. There was a bandage wrapped around Prussia's ankle, but he didn't even
limp.

"Looks like the invincible Prussia had a bit of a nasty blow as well," Austria
couldn't help but comment, eyeing the ankle.

"Don't even try to flatter yourself; it wasn't caused by any Austrian," Prussia
said summarily, immediately halting directly behind Austria. Austria could
feel Prussia's eyes glare down at him as he hovered like a Grim Reaper,
waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
 "If it was caused by an Austrian, you'd be bedridden," Austria retorted. He
was not one to sit around idly while his enemy crushed his name into the
dust.

"The most any Austrian can do to me is sicken me with their superfluous

lavishness," Prussia snorted. "But thankfully, I've managed to get over it, no
matter how disgusting it is." He moved in front of Austria and crouched
before him. Austria stared defiantly back at the younger nation.

"So what shall we start with?" Prussia said coolly. "Can we skip immediately
to the interrogation, or will we be required to dirty our hands and force it out
of you?"

"How kind of you to offer the guest a choice," Austria said sardonically.
Prussia chuckled and playfully patted Austria on the cheek before rising to his
feet again. "What do you want from me?"

"Oh, I merely took you hostage because I enjoyed your suffocating and
uptight presence," said Prussia. "I guess I'll have to get used to it, considering
you'll probably be stuck with me for a good amount of time. It isn't like
anyone would want to bust you out anyway."

"Not everyone is friendless like you, Prussia," Austria shot back.

"England would rather fight France than rescue you," Prussia continued
stubbornly. "Netherlands barely ever gets his hands dirty helping you against
me. Your own countrymen would rather attend some posh opera than do
anything about you. Loyalty, what a pal."

Austria coughed, trying to avoid licking the blood that oozed down his lips.
"There's still Hungary."

"You are a liar. She isn't even in this war," Prussia said automatically. "Just
because you practically enslaved her under the Holy Roman Empire's rule
doesn't mean she is obliged to run to your call like some mongrel."

"I never enslaved her," Austria retorted. He felt a blunt and heavy impact on
his back that made him double over. His spine tingled with numbing pain. "It
was arranged by the Hapsburg Monarchy! She agreed to it."

"Didn't stop you from forcing her to wear some frilly apron and making her do
your shit," Prussia spat. "That wasn't how she was before at all. Back then,
she wouldn't come near a dress or resign herself to house chores. She'd get
off her seat and hunt or fight—none of this docile rubbish. What did you do to
her?" Prussia wrenched Austria forward. "What did you do to change her like
that?"
 "Times and people change, Prussia!" Austria hissed. "You may remain
hopelessly immature and ignorant all your life, but others change as time
passes!"

The next thing Austria knew, he was flying headfirst into the stone walls of
the cell. He crashed against the sickly rock and crumpled onto the ground,
wracked from head to toe with agony. His head pounded as if the painful
blows were coming from the inside of his skull instead. He knew he should
have expected it; Prussia, being a violent and brash man, was so predictable
when angered. He was like a cantankerous child. Austria couldn't help but
chuckle at the thought

"You think this is funny, don't you?" Prussia hissed. Austria merely shrugged
good-naturedly.

"Why, of course not. You must have mistaken my bitter sobs for laughter. I'm
deeply heartbroken, really," Austria said smoothly.

Prussia struck him across the head with the hilt of his sword. Pain shot
through Austria's skull and his sight blurred momentarily.

"You stole my best friend," Prussia whispered dangerously. "You took her
away from me. Do you know how that feels?"

Austria didn't respond. He was trying to clear his head as the pain dizzied him
horribly. Prussia's voice was coated with something Austria had never
expected to come from the other nation. It was broken, even human.
Prussia's words affected him in a way he did not expect; it struck him in the
stomach in a collected pit.

But it couldn't have been guilt. Austria loved Hungary. He did not regret
loving her.

"If I had it my way, I wouldn't even bother imprisoning you," Prussia growled.
"To hell with country relations or for the balance of the world. I would have
killed you the moment I saw you."

Austria could barely move; excruciating pain paralyzed his entire body. It was
even more effective than handcuffs or chains. Prussia placed his heel on
Austria's cheekbone, threatening to crush his face. Cold bits of glass were
sprinkled on his bruised cheek; the remnant of Austria's glasses.

"So what do you want from me?" Austria grunted. Prussia added pressure on
Austria's cheek at every syllable he spoke. "War plans? Military secrets?"

"I can demolish you even without any of those," Prussia said stoutly.
 "Then what is it?" Austria demanded, his throat searing. Each word clawed
the inside of his throat before being forced out, as if dragging its nails in
desperation. "What do you want?"

Prussia smoothly shifted his weight to one foot, crushing Austria's cheekbone.
He could feel it crackle under his soles and grinned at Austria's sharp gasps
of pain. He bent down low enough so that his lips were close to Austria's ear.

"I said it before, didn't I?" Prussia said in a low voice that reminded Austria of
a snake. The words coiled around his neck and suffocated him. "I look forward
to hearing you plead for your life."

A metallic clang echoed through the cell as the iron doors slammed shut,
trapping Austria in Prussia's mercy.

"I'll have you warned now," Prussia said quietly, his voice resonating in the
cold and dank room. "When you get killed, the only reason you'll be going to
heaven is because you've already served your time in Hell here."

"Any news?"

Hungary bit her lip hard, following Maria Theresa fervently as she paced
across the grand hall, fumbling with her own fingers nervously. The tension
oppressed them, squelching any sound made. Time became lame, crawling
lethargically like a cripple and making every second seem like an hour. Virtue
be damned; patience was a cruel and spiteful enemy.

"None so far," Maria Theresa admitted. Hungary let out a heavy sigh of
defeat. Her heart fluttered frantically liked a trapped bird, batting against her
ribs like wings against a cage, wildly desperate for freedom. Austria had gone
to battle with England against Prussia but there had been no sign of them
since.

"They're probably just running late," Hungary mumbled, crossing her arms
tightly across her chest. "I mean, Austria tends to get lost a lot…perhaps he's
returning home right now but he lost his way…"

"He would be with England, though," Maria Theresa pointed out. "England
would have led him back if that was the case."

Hungary bowed her head, trying to hide her nervousness. This was why she
hated it when Austria went to war. It was too much fear and uncertainty that
she could bear. Especially when his enemy happened to be Prussia. Her heart
jolted with anger at his name. Her muscles tensed immediately, as if already
preparing themselves to pummel the life out of that boy.
"You don't think that they were completely defeated in battle, do you?" Maria
Theresa asked worriedly. "I mean, it is two against one nation, but Prussia is
a harsh enemy—"

"Not at all!" Hungary said feverishly. "I know Prussia. He may sound ruthless
and powerful, but he's much less than that. In fact—in fact I've beaten him up
several times! Austria and England would have no problem!"

Maria Theresa gave Hungary a quick smile at her optimism before turning her
back on the nation to cover up her continuous anxiety. Hungary could not
blame the queen; ever since the morning Austria left for battle, Hungary
could barely sleep or eat properly. She was stricken with concern for him.

"Your Majesty." Hungary and Maria Theresa quickly turned to the entrance
way of the grand hall to see a servant at the door. He gave a sweeping bow.
"The Austrian army has arrived from battle."

"Finally!" Maria Theresa exclaimed, a relieved smile softening her features.

She hurried out of the castle to greet her soldiers with Hungary tailing her.
Outside, Hungary craned her neck to try to see over the soldiers' heads and
her heart skipped a beat. There were far less soldiers returning than there
were riding out to battle. Dread pervaded her senses, washing out the brief
but sweet relief that only had about two minutes in the limelight.

"Look at them," Maria Theresa whispered. "They look as if they saw Hell."

"They must have," Hungary said darkly. A memory of Prussia flashed in her
mind before she chased it off fiercely. She tugged at Maria Theresa's sleeve.
"Come. Let's go somewhere higher up so we can see everyone that arrives.
Our short statures won't help on the ground level."

Maria Theresa nodded and followed Hungary away from the throng. However,
she stopped short and let out a defeated chuckle when Hungary launched
herself onto a tall tree and shinnied up.

"You do that yourself," Maria Theresa called up to her. Hungary shrugged,

considering climbing trees completely natural. She balanced herself on a long
tree branch, shading her eyes to spy upon the arriving army better. She
strained to catch sight of a stray strand of brown locks in the midst of the
dirty and bloodied uniforms or the glint from a pair of familiar spectacles. She
must have been perched up on that tree for a good thirty minutes, scanning
the crowd as the gnarled tree bark scratched her skin and the leaves tangled
into her hair. Every spare minute heightened her already swollen uneasiness.

"I don't see him," Hungary admitted shakily. She had to raise her voice over
the clang of tired weapons and the low rumble of many soldiers' voices
speaking at once. "Your Majesty, I don't see him!"
She looked down and took a double take in surprise to see that Maria Theresa
was no longer with her. She nearly fell out of the tree in panic only to spot the
queen a little ways off with the general. She slapped her forehead in
aggravation before swinging down to the ground. That would have been a
much simpler and easier choice than clambering up a tall tree and getting
jumbled in the branches. She combed the stray sticks out of her hair before
dashing toward Maria Theresa.

"Have you seen Austria?" Hungary would ask desperately as she wheedled
her way through the large crowd. "Roderich? Have you seen Roderich? Is he
here?" Everyone she asked would give her a confused look before shaking
their heads. She swallowed down her urge to cry out with frustration and
hopelessness. So many soldiers were horribly wounded and scarred, their
own blood already seeping through their thick and tight bandages and their
eyes hollowed out without any emotion or sensitivity left in them. Had Prussia
done this to Austria's soldiers? The thought made her bristle with indignation.

"Your Majesty?" she said hastily as she arrived at the queen's side. She felt
her heart sink to her stomach at the sight of the graveness in Maria Theresa's
face. "Where is Austria?"

"We've—we've lost the battle," Maria Theresa coughed. Hungary cast a

second glance at the disheveled remainder of the Austrian army. It was
almost as if the word 'lost' was too much of an understatement.

"What of Austria? Roderich?" Maria Theresa insisted, turning to the general

once more. "Where is he? Did he not return with you?"

Hungary felt the pit of cold dread in her heart slowly spread throughout her
entire body. "Where is Roderich?"

"We don't know," the general admitted softly. Hungary could barely breathe.
She felt as if someone punched her in the heart. "We all have returned, but
no one knows where he is."

"You don't think—he couldn't have been—" Maria Theresa stuttered, her face
paling. "He can't be killed, can he?"

"No!" Hungary said quickly, her voice shaking. "Surely some of the soldiers
might have seen him! They must know where he is!" She stared pleadingly at
the messenger, begging him to confirm her thoughts.

"They have," the general said quietly. Hungary's face brightened, but the
general still remained grave and cautious. "Some of the men saw him fighting
Prussia. After that, he was gone."

"What?" Hungary breathed. The mere thought of Prussia made the lump in
her throat toughen and ache with fury. "What do you mean by that? He
couldn't have just pulled a disappearing act after that!"
 "It was complete disorderly chaos. It is hard for anyone to truly understand
what's going on in battle!" the general protested. "Others have said they saw
Prussia taking Austria as a prisoner of war."

Hungary felt all the blood in her face drain away. She felt her entire body
stiffen with shock. Maria Theresa was no calmer; she looked as if she were
sick, for she was frighteningly pale.

"That can't be," Hungary stammered. "How could he have been? Austria—
Austria wouldn't let that happen! Of course not!" She could feel the
beginnings of a desperate rant creep up on her. She couldn't help it; she was
still drenched with disbelief and panic. "Prussia couldn't do that! He isn't that
strong!"

"Many soldiers said the same thing," the general said regretfully. "He was
fighting Prussia, beaten down, and bound. It can only mean one thing."

Maria Theresa turned away from the general. She paced to and fro, her hand
to her mouth with alarm. Hungary silent took Maria Theresa's arm and led her
back inside in the palace, her own nerves strained and battered. Her deep
resentment toward Prussia surged rapidly like a powerful fountain. How could
he have done all these horrible deeds to Austria? What did Austria ever do to
him?

"Your majesty?" Hungary coughed out, closing the mahogany doors behind
them. Maria Theresa didn't appear to have heard her; she continued pacing
without even stumbling or changing her pace. Hungary raised her voice.
"Your majesty!"

Maria Theresa finally jerked back to reality. She quickly whirled around
toward Hungary, her face contorted with distress.

"What things could Prussia do to Austria?" Maria Theresa inquired. "Would he

be able to kill Austria?"

"He wouldn't. He can't," Hungary blurted out, though a part of her didn't even
believe her own words. This was Prussia they were talking about. The
merciless, monstrous Prussia. Killing a fellow nation would seem kindhearted
to him. "He wouldn't dare."

"But what would he do to Austria?" Maria Theresa cried. "They must have
kidnapped him for a reason. They want something from us."

"Prussia definitely would," Hungary said in a low voice. Nothing could hunger
Prussia's insatiable hunger for power. "What shall we do?"

"I don't know what Prussia wants from us," Maria Theresa admitted grimly.
"We're going to have to find out somehow. He would probably send word to
us, declaring his actions and demanding a price."
 "We can't just sit around and wait for him to give us conditions!" Hungary
cried. "I refuse to be bullied around by that—that horrid man!" There were
many other choice names she would have called Prussia had she not decided
to be more careful with her tongue as a lady.

"If I send my men to attack, Austria would be at stake," Maria Theresa

pointed out. "Not to mention the men themselves. In all honesty, we don't
even know where Prussia is keeping Austria in the first place."

"We'll give Prussia a taste of his own medicine!" Hungary declared. Her mind
was bubbling with thousands of ideas to seek revenge against her newly
declared foe. It was a strange place to be in, desiring to hurt a former best
friend, but all Hungary could think about was Austria's wellbeing. She would
not rest until she knew he would be safe. "We'll kidnap some of his officers
and force the answer out of them! Surely they would know! Or—"

Suddenly, the idea hit her like a sledgehammer. She froze for a moment, her
mind so engrossed on her idea that it almost forgot the rest of its duties.
Finally, she let out a gasp and spun around toward Maria Theresa.

"Maybe—maybe I can wheedle the answer out of him!" Hungary exclaimed.

Maria Theresa gave Hungary a very confused look. She shook her head. "I'm
sorry, but how would you be able to manage that? What difference is there
between you and—I don't know—a different country?"

"Because he knows me," Hungary insisted. "We've known each other since
we were born, practically. He trusts me—to an extent. And—and he doesn't
know that I'm your ally yet!" Her words became more feverish and rushed as
she continued on. "He might think I'm neutral, so he wouldn't expect
anything! And then I could find out where Austria is—maybe I can save him!"

Maria Theresa's face had an unreadable expression. "Would that be all right?"

"What do you mean by that?" Hungary demanded.

"I meant, would you be all right with that?" Maria Theresa asked carefully.
"You have his trust. Would it be safe to break it now in the long run?"

"I don't care," Hungary said stalwartly. She gripped her fists. "He hurt Austria.
Prussia already lost my trust. Might as well make it mutual."

Maria Theresa bit her lip. "But what if Prussia finds out your deeds and keeps
you as prisoner as well? Then I'll have two missing nations on top of
everything else!"

"You needn't worry, your majesty," Hungary assured her. "I know how to deal
with Prussia. I could defeat him myself; I've done it before. It would be
nothing close to a challenge."
 Hungary could see the apprehensive doubt in Maria Theresa's face. "I
promise you, your majesty! I will succeed! Please trust me in this. You know
how strong I am."

"I don't doubt your prowess," Maria Theresa confessed. "I worry of Prussia's
wrath."

"You needn't," Hungary replied without skipping a beat. "It is nothing we

cannot handle." She rushed over to Maria Theresa and beseechingly took her
hands. "Let me go, your majesty."

Maria Theresa hesitated for a brief moment before finally nodding. A flow of
victorious excitement coursed through Hungary as the adrenaline pumped
with every concise heartbeat.

She had been waiting for a chance like this for far too long.

She was dying to hear Prussia beg for mercy.

CHAPTER 3

"Has he been cracking anytime soon?"

Prussia shook his head before continuing to unravel the bandages around his
ankle. France watched complacently by the fireplace, trapped in the
Prussian's steel silence.

"Have you been interrogating him at all in the first place?"

"Who do you think I am? A sadist?" Prussia said, aghast. He blanched at

France's smirk and threw his dirtied bandages at him. "You're sick."

"You fool me well enough," France sang, playing with an ornate dagger
scabbard left on the fireplace mantelpiece. He ran his finger across the
curling design as if following a long and dangerous pathway across the
smooth metal.

"I'm not," Prussia insisted earnestly, massaging his injured ankle. It still
throbbed angrily even after it was treated. He barely suppressed a wince
before starting to wrap it again with clean bandages. "And no. He hasn't
spilled anything. Not that I expect him to."

"That's a surprise," France commented, "considering the horrid pain you

inflict upon him."

"It isn't horrid. You speak of it as if it were completely out of the ordinary,"
Prussia said indignantly. "Any other country would do the same to their
 prisoners. I know that for a fact." His face darkened considerably and he
hurriedly returned his attention to nursing his wound.

"Ah, but what a way it is to treat a guest!" France said teasingly. "What a
horrible impression you make upon them. You should treat them to soft
pillows and wine instead of what you're doing now."

"I do not aim to try to seduce everyone that enters my country's borders,
France," Prussia said testily. "A good lot that would do. What kind of
formidable superpower would I be if I handed out sweets and alcohol?"

"All you care about is being seen as intimidating," France lamented. "I would
much rather be loved and appreciated than to be feared."

"And look where you are. Pummeled by the English," Prussia said coolly.
"That may suit you fine, but I've got different plans."

"Harsh words spoken to a true friend," France said dramatically, gently

placing the dagger sheath back to its original place.

"…Sorry," Prussia muttered. "Look—I didn't mean anything bad, it's just—"

"No need, no need," France said lazily, waving the matter aside. "I
understand your nature. It's natural for you to retort like that."

"Natural?" Prussia asked confusedly.

"Of course," France said casually. "You're the warmonger, after all." He
leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on Prussia's desk. "Though
you are more so in this situation. If it were anyone else besides Austria, I'm
sure you would be a little more lax in your treatment."

"I suppose," Prussia laughed. France raised an eyebrow.

"Why him specifically, of all people?" France inquired.

"Why not?" Prussia retorted incredulously, as if the answer was blatantly

obvious. "Everything about him! I won't bore you with the details; I know that
I've done it too many times already." His face grimaced with disgust. "And
he's a liar. He said Hungary was on his side. How could she be? That is
nothing like her. She never declared war on me either." He gingerly rose to
his feet.

"How did that happen, anyway?" France asked, nodding at Prussia's ankle.

"Not in battle," Prussia said shortly.

France raised an eyebrow. "But that hasn't told me anything. What

happened?"
 "What does it matter?" Prussia muttered. He hesitated before continuing.
"You remember how there was an attack on that one military fort not too long
ago?" France nodded. "I was trying to drag a soldier out from under a pile of
wreckage but then the enemy launched an attack that knocked even more
rubble down and it buried my leg. It should be snapped in half, but somehow I
just got away with a sprain."

"Ah," France muttered. He raised an eyebrow curiously. "And the soldier.

What of him?"

Prussia didn't respond immediately. He stared off into space for a moment
before averting his gaze toward the floor and absentmindedly fiddling with
the buttons on his navy coat. "He was completely crushed. What would you
expect?"

France remained silent, cautiously watching Prussia as he distractedly

straightened out his uniform, desperately donning strained indifference.
Prussia sensed the watchful and uncomfortable silence and turned sharply at
France.

"Come on. I've got to get back to interrogating Austria again," Prussia said
hurriedly to cut short the silence. "You might as well come along and enjoy
the show, considering you're already here."

"Would I be able to participate in it?" France asked saucily.

"Though my treatment of prisoners is more typical, I don't believe 'rape'

would be quite as acceptable," Prussia said dryly. France chuckled before
following Prussia through the capacious and crowded Prussian military fort
that was surrounded by a thick and impenetrable stone wall with a pair of
heavy locked doors fitted tightly on one end. Guards watched over the door
with sharp and steely eyes; France reckoned that they were so mistrustful
and paranoid of anyone coming in that the guards never once opened the
door unless a company of wounded Prussians were at the door.

"It's like its own little kingdom instead of just a military fortification," France
commented blithely. "It's large enough to be a town, I imagine."

"And even more orderly," Prussia added. He halted before a windowless

building, fashioned to be both the infirmary and the prisons in two separate
wings. He nodded to the guards at the door, who immediately stepped aside
and let their nation walk in.

"He's lively today," Prussia remarked simply, noting the loud but
incomprehensible strings of shouts unraveling from the pit of the prison.

"I've never imagined that the little Austrian could get so worked up like this,"
France said playfully as Prussia led him down the dim stairway, their boots
clicking cleanly on the stone like the sharp cocking of rifles.
 "Austria," Prussia sang, drawing out the first syllable playfully. "Look what
we've got here. A guest for you to entertain."

France could barely see Austria in his cell, squeezed in the heart of the
shadows that the stingy oil lamps refused to shine light upon. Prussia
unhooked a ring of keys from his belt and slowly unlocked the door. The door
swung open with a welcoming groan in its old and weathered voice, bidding
Prussia and France to enter.

"I believe," Austria's voice croaked as he rose to his unsteady feet, "that I am
entitled to at least a letter back to my empress so she would at least know
where I am." His voice sounded fifteen years older than usual.

"I've already taken it upon myself to do it for you," Prussia said carelessly.
"No need to thank me."

Austria's face spoke no more calmness and tranquility that was once his
trademark. It was etched in pure resentment.

"And what were your terms?" Austria demanded.

"What does it matter to you?" Prussia said shortly. France gave a wary
sidelong glance at Prussia. His ally had suddenly adopted an unfamiliar aura
that was both mocking and menacing, both a double-bladed dagger and
some salt to pour on the wounds. "It's for your precious empress to decide
whether or not to take the deal, not you."

"More land, I presume," Austria said disapprovingly. "Silesia wasn't enough

for you?"

"Not even close," said Prussia.

France could feel Prussia's bitterness level steadily grow in the cramped cell.
It pressured him uncomfortably and France had to fight the urge to escape
the prison. Prussia's presence had suddenly become too oppressive to bear.

"I wish I had some sort of painter around," Prussia muttered, tugging on his
black gloves, "so he could paint a picture of your miserable state and send it
to your little empress. Maybe that would quicken her end of the deal."

"What did you ask for?" Austria repeated. Prussia did not respond
immediately. He took his time retrieving a half-full bottle of beer that had
once belonged to one of the guards from the wooden chair propped against
the wall.

"Your precious piano," Prussia said sardonically as he uncorked the bottle.

The heavy and thick scent of alcohol stung their noses. It made France
cringe.
 "It wouldn't be much of a loss for you, would it?" Prussia said dangerously,
lazily running a gloved finger down the glass bottle like a drop of rain would
slide on a glass windowpane. "Considering your house is weighed down with
so much extravagance that it would make Solomon's riches lose their luster."

His eyes suddenly flashed like a wolf's. France didn't notice that he was
slowly backing away from his own friend until he felt his back press against
the cold wall.

"You must think you're living the high life, don't you?" Prussia said breezily,
taking a quick swig of the drink. "Like a king. The riches. The loftiness." He
took a step closer. "The slaves."

"They aren't my slaves," Austria said quietly.

"They were forced under your rule to do your bidding whether they liked it or
not," Prussia shot back fluidly. "I don't know what you call it, but it certainly
isn't any way you should treat her!"

"What have I done wrong?" Austria cried out. "I would never do anything to
hurt her."

"But you would break her?" Prussia retorted. "Then what's the difference?"

"I can promise you, Prussia," Austria said earnestly. "I want her to be happy
as well. I wouldn't do anything that would upset her. I care about her."

Prussia didn't reply. His eyes flickered to the ground and his fists tightened.
He looked as if he wanted to speak up, but he held his tongue. For a moment
his coldblooded façade cracked, revealing only sliver hints of his true
emotions. He didn't seem angry; only uneasy.

France could hear distant footsteps run down the stairway. Prussia's attention
jerked to the newcomer. It was a young messenger bounding down the stairs,
clutching on a grubby note in his hands. Prussia tilted his head curiously
before pushing the cell door open.

"What news?" Prussia demanded.

"This—this came for you," the messenger coughed, handing Prussia the note.
The grimy light from the oil lamps barely sufficed to read the scrawled
letters. "It's from the Kingdom of Hungary!"

Two hearts immediately skipped a beat at the sound of the name. Austria
clenched his teeth, anticipating both the best and worst. He knew how
determined Hungary was to defeat Prussia, but a cold premonition nagged
him in the back of his mind, telling him that it couldn't be this easy and this
quick.
"I see," Prussia said gently. "Thank you, Rolf." The messenger nodded before
hurrying out of the chilly, grisly prison as if doom was at his heels. Prussia
turned the letter around in his hand, eyeing it contemplatively. After a
moment, he finally tore it open and held it up to the light to read. He
immediately recognized the sharp and haphazard handwriting scrawled
across the paper like a row of spikes. He held his breath in anticipation and
began to read the contents.

France could feel the impossibly overwhelming tension in the room. Austria
looked as if he was about to burst from his corner and crash through the
obstinate iron bars and even through the powerful stone walls; the hidden
power was practically visible, coursing through his anxious and taut muscles.
Prussia was as immobile as stone, as if he was a white marble statue. France
felt as if he was caught in between.

Prussia suddenly looked up from his reading, and France was relieved to see
his excited smile and his red eyes brighten. It was the same Prussia he knew
long before the beginning of the war; the sane Prussia. He rushed over to
France, his grin broadening as he handed him the letter.

"She's coming here," Prussia said feverishly like an innocent schoolboy. "She
wants to discuss our international relations. She wants an alliance."

Austria felt as if a meteorite had crashed through the ceiling and pummeled
him. His mouth suddenly felt very dry and every heartbeat ached.

"I haven't seen her in so long," Prussia said in an elated whisper. "So long."
He looked down at the paper and read the words again, as if to make sure he
did not misinterpret her letter. There was no mistake; it was stamped out in
bold black ink.

"Look at this, Austria." Suddenly Prussia's voice grew dangerous spikes like a
mace. He had not forgotten what company he was in. "In her own hand." He
tossed the letter to Austria, who fumbled to catch it. It was difficult to read
anything properly in the murky shadow, and Austria refused to step out into
the light and look too eager. But there was no mistaking her familiar
handwriting. His heart stopped and then it sank. What was the meaning of
this?

Prussia quickly took it from Austria's hands, gentle enough as to not rip
Hungary's words. Austria swallowed hard, suddenly breaking out into cold
sweat. What in the world was Hungary doing? This could be too dangerous;
what if she got hurt? Too many questions were bubbling over in Austria's
mind and no answers to appease them. When Prussia and France left him
locked alone again in his prison, he still did not calm down.

It had to be some sort of ploy. She hated Prussia, as she had mentioned so
many times to Austria. Ever since the war began, she cursed Prussia's name
every time Austria returned, utterly trounced from the Prussian attacks.
 What if Prussia hurt her?

He didn't care how many beatings he got or how long he would be forced to
rot in the Prussian cell. If Prussia did anything to harm Hungary, he would
never forgive himself. He would rather face Prussia's wrath to its fullest
capacity than have her hurt.

If anything wrong happens to her, it will be your fault.

You aren't even strong enough to protect her or yourself.

He would have thought that this voice, this devil with the serpent's tongue,
would sound like Prussia's voice at least, but it didn't. It sounded just like
Austria's voice.

Maria Theresa studied the map of Europe carefully, her eyebrows knit in
determination. Her very country might have been kidnapped and held captive
in some anonymous dungeon, but that wasn't going to stop her from fighting.

She pressed her fingertips together in thought, her mind quickly calculating
the possible tactics or battle plans that her military needed. She had to
admit, she was feeling rather nervous and uncertain. Hungary had gone off
with some soldiers to meet with Prussia. She had no idea how Austria was
faring. Her country was doing poorly in the war. It was enough stress for her
to bear.

"Do you know if Hungary has reached Prussia yet?" Maria Theresa asked her
men anxiously.

"She left last night, your Highness," an official answered calmly. "It would
take a lot longer for her to reach the military fort."

"Of course. Of course, you're right," Maria Theresa murmured hurriedly. "…do
you know if she's close to it?"

"I don't have an idea," the official said tiredly. Maria Theresa bit her lip and
nodded.

"Your Highness!" Maria Theresa quickly looked up from her work. A servant
dashed inside, waving a letter in his hands. "It's word from the King of
Prussia! He sent a letter regarding the terms!"

Maria Theresa immediately stood from her seat and ran toward the servant.
She quickly snatched the letter from his hand and ripped it open. Her careful
eyes scanned the contents of the letter and she let out a sound of disbelief.
"What terms are these?" Maria Theresa exclaimed. She reread the letter as if
to make sure she understood them correctly. "Why would the Friederich ask
for something like this?"

She turned the letter over in her hands. Her officers watched her with
curiosity, dying to know what the Prussians demanded in exchange for their
country. Maria Theresa narrowed her eyes before folding it back.

"It doesn't have the king's stamp on it," Maria Theresa announced in a low
voice. "Friederich did not write this letter."

"Then who wrote it?" an official asked with disbelief.

"Prussia himself," Maria Theresa muttered. The officers exchanged wary looks
with each other. The mention of the great kingdom made their blood grow
cold.

"What did he demand?" one man inquired.

Maria Theresa stared down at the map of Europe. She quietly traced her
finger around the Austrian empire, pausing when it reached Hungary. She
pursed her lips, digging her nail into the Hungarian border.

"He demands that we let Hungary become its own nation, free of the Austrian
Empire," Maria Theresa finally told them. Exclamations of disbelief echoed
throughout the conference room.

"But…why?" a man asked dubiously. "Does Prussia want to take over

Hungary? It doesn't seem like a plausible idea, though."

"I don't know," Maria Theresa said uneasily. In all honesty, Prussia wouldn't
need Hungary to be completely independent if he wanted to become one
with her. It didn't add up.

"But Hungary is on her way to meet with Prussia this very moment," the man
pointed out. "Would that cause complications?"

"I hope not," Maria Theresa said quickly. But she still had the growing dread
pulsing inside of her.

"Hungary is a strong country," an officer said stoutly. "They could certainly

defend themselves if Prussia tried anything."

"You're right," Maria Theresa echoed. "I should worry more about Prussia's
welfare after Hungary gets a hold of him." She gave a lighthearted smile to
her men. "Let us disperse for now. I think this is all we can do today."

Her men murmured in agreement before slowly filing out of the conference
room one by one. Only Maria Theresa remained before the map, rapping her
 fingers on the sturdy oak. She scrutinized the worn map, biting down on her
lips.

Of all countries, of all things Prussia could have demanded, why did he
choose this? And why did he not have his king write it instead? The letter was
etched on weathered, yellowing paper without any indication that the king
even approved of the letter before it was sent out. Did Prussia do it in secret?
Did Friederich even know his country was keeping Austria captive?

What if Hungary was right now running into the arms of a very terrible ploy?

CHAPTER 4

"Look who it is!"

Hungary looked up at the sound of the familiar loud voice. She and her
military men were crowded before the heavy guarded door of the Prussian
military fort. She saw a gloved hand waving at her from the top of the
impenetrable walls.

"If it isn't Little Miss Hungary, finally coming to see her old friend!" Prussia's
voice fell from the top and rained down on Hungary. She swallowed down her
pride and antagonism toward Prussia and forced on a cheery smile.

"Forget the melodrama and open the doors, Prussia!" Hungary bellowed.
Prussia chuckled before pulling the doors open, allowing Hungary access to
his military fort. The inside almost seemed larger than the outside world,
bustling with order and warfare. Hungary was swallowed into the giant
Prussian beast of combat.

Prussia ran down the stairs of the fortification towers, his face lit with
excitement. He nearly tripped over the steps and Hungary couldn't help but
smile in spite of herself. Why was he always boasting about being a fearless,
ruthless man when he was such a child?

"Hungary! Hungary! Hungary!" Prussia laughed when he finally approached

her. A wide grin made his thin face almost seem innocent. He stumbled just
as he reached her, nearly falling onto all fours. It did not faze him one bit.
"What took you so long?"

"I didn't come from anywhere close to this place; you know that!" Hungary
said indignantly.

"That wasn't what I meant," Prussia said, shaking his head. "I meant, what
took you so long to finally write to me, much less come and see me?"

"Do you really think I have all the time in the world?" Hungary said, forcing
her voice to be less accusatory and more amicable. Just looking into his dark
red eyes made her want to slit his heart. These were the same pair of eyes
that laughed when they tore down Austria.

"True. You're always stuck serving Austria," Prussia lamented. But then his
grin grew wider. "But not anymore. You're free, aren't you? You will be."

"Free?" Hungary repeated confusedly.

"Oh wait! You lot are probably tired, aren't you?" Prussia suddenly exclaimed
to Hungary's men. "Here—I can take care of your horses. We've got extra
barracks and I'm sure there's still food somewhere—"

Hungary watched in slight surprise as Prussia rushed around the military fort,
arranging for her men to be taken care of. She had always imagined Prussia
to have changed into a cold, snarling dictator, but here he was, acting as if he
never actually grew up.

"Do you have enough room and supplies for that?" Hungary asked Prussia.
"You already have so many men here."

"I'm fine. We're fine," Prussia said quickly. He nodded genuinely at Hungary.
"I'm serious! A couple companies have been transferred to a different fort, so
it's a lot emptier than it was before."

"Emptier…?" Hungary echoed, glancing around her. This place was far from
deserted.

"Ja," Prussia said, tying the horses in the stall. "What about you, though? I
haven't any specific place for girls, in all honesty. Maybe with the nurses."

"I'm fine," Hungary said quickly. Her eyes darted around outside the stalls.
Where on earth could Austria be in this enormous military fort? It could take
days just to look through everything.

"When was the last time we saw each other?" Prussia asked as they left the
stall. He led her into his headquarters that spoke of many stories of being
used for all nighters. The simple oak desk was completely covered with maps
and papers blackened with Prussia's cramped handwriting. "I don't mean
meeting and actually talking like normal people. The last time I even laid
eyes on you was ages ago."

"You stopped visiting Austria's house," Hungary pointed out. Her eyes
scoured the desk in search of anything useful. Unfortunately, her fluency in
German was lacking and she couldn't tell if she was trying to read an
important secret war plan or just a to-do list.

"You stopped wanting me to come," Prussia said, blinking confusedly at her.

He beckoned for her to take a seat by the fireplace as he straightened out his
desk.
"Why'd you think that?" Hungary asked carefully. In her defense, she had
never told nor intended to tell Prussia that she didn't want to see him
anymore. She just no longer cared whether or not he came.

"Wasn't it obvious?" Prussia said, frowning. "You weren't the same person
you used to be."

"I'm still Hungary," Hungary said indignantly.

"Not the same Hungary," Prussia said bluntly. "Ever since Austria took you in,
you grew out your hair and changed your style of clothes—heck, you even
started to talk differently. It was like you had a complete personality change."

"So I dressed and talked differently. That doesn't completely define who I
am," Hungary protested.

"That's only part of it," Prussia continued, rolling up the map on his desk. "It's
like you completely forgot who you were before. When I tried talking to you
about the times you were off in war, beating up Austria, hunting, riding
horses like a nomad, you kept shushing me and denying that ever happened.
As if you didn't even want to be that Hungary."

Hungary pursed her lips. It was true that whenever Prussia tried to strike up a
conversation about the past when she was in Austria's house, she always
quieted him down and pretended it never happened. Why would she want to
remember? She was a proper lady now, one that Austria loved. That was the
kind of girl she wanted to be, not the kind that could easily be mistaken as a
boy by both looks and nature.

"I didn't want to anger Austria by mentioning it," Hungary suddenly heard her
own voice saying. She frowned slightly at her own words. "Reminding him
about the times I beat him up wouldn't bring fond memories, now would it?"

Prussia smiled wryly before gathering his papers into an orderly pile. His
smile faded a little later as he reminisced. "It's just—it seemed like you were
completely denying that I was your friend, you know? That we never had a
past together."

I was, Hungary thought unrepentantly. She only nodded solemnly at Prussia,

biting her tongue.

"But now you're here," Prussia said fervently. "You're here and mein Gott,
how much things have changed!"

"The way you talk makes it sounds like we lived two completely separate
lifetimes," Hungary pointed out amusedly. She appeared relaxed and
collected, but inside she refused to let her guard down. She was here to free
Austria, not prance down memory lane. "But we need to get to serious
matters here, if you don't mind."
"Of course. Of course. I was going to say that," Prussia said hurriedly. He
finally sat down behind his desk, still slightly mussed from the many papers
and notes piled on top of it. "About the war. In your letter—" He slipped the
old folded letter from his breast pocket and flattened it carefully on the wood.
"—you said that you wanted to…form a passive pact with me?" He raised an
eyebrow inquisitively.

"Yes," Hungary lied, gripping her knees tightly. Luckily for her, the desk
blocked it from Prussia's view. "I can provide supplies and any aid for you."

Prussia cocked his head curiously at her. "In other words, an alliance? You
want to beat up Austria with me?" His eyes brightened excitedly at the idea,
and Hungary had to force down any urge to pounce on Prussia and throttle
him right then and there.

"I can't provide soldiers, though," she said calmly. "I have to keep them
around for internal affairs, but as for horses or food or whatever it is you are
lacking—" A heart, perhaps? "—I can help."

"But you won't join the battlefield?" Prussia said good-naturedly. "Pity, I
would have loved to see you fight."

You will sooner or later, mark my words, Hungary thought dangerously. She
let out a soft chuckle and shook her head. "What is it with you and my
tomboy side?"

"It's who you are," Prussia said genuinely. "The way you were when I first met
you."

"Well, like any other female," Hungary said ironically, "I've become
acquainted with femininity."

"I've noticed," Prussia said grudgingly. "Austria is the epitome of femininity."

He eyed Hungary carefully. "Why don't you ever fight back?"

"What do you mean?" asked Hungary warily.

"You can't possibly tell me that you enjoy being under Austria's rule," Prussia
exclaimed. "Your freedom was taken away! How can you stand that?"

Hungary hesitated. How was she supposed to answer that in a way so that
she would not be suspected of plotting a trick? But that wasn't the only
problem; she didn't know how to even answer that herself. It was true that
her power over her own people was limited, but it wasn't absolutely horrid
like how Prussia thought. She fell in love with Austria, and that was worth it.

"I have my people to think about," Hungary said tactfully. "It doesn't matter
what choices I make; I need to do what will benefit my people the most."
Prussia leaned back in his chair skeptically. Hungary sat very still, wondering
if Prussia could still read her thoughts through her eyes like before. For safe
measures, she tore her eyes away from him, busying herself by lacing her
boots.

There was a light knocking on the door. Prussia stood from his seat
immediately and wrenched it open. A messenger stood by the doorway,
silently handing Prussia a small letter. Prussia glanced perplexedly at it
before his lips twitched into a humored smile.

"When did this come in?" he asked the messenger.

"Just now," the messenger murmured. Prussia beckoned the boy to leave
before closing the door. He quickly ripped open the letter.

"What is it?" Hungary asked curiously as Prussia's face softened as he read

the letter.

"Just a letter from my little brother back home," Prussia said, grinning, before
folding the letter several times and placing it in the pocket inside his navy
coat.

"Pardon me—little brother?" Hungary said, flabbergasted. When was Prussia

ever responsible enough to take care of another person? "Is he a human?"

"No, he's one of us," Prussia said animatedly. "I don't know his name yet, and
he actually doesn't know his either. I think he must be a new nation. I just call
him West."

"Where did you find him…?" asked Hungary faintly.

"In the west, hence his name," Prussia said simply. "You should meet him
someday! He's got so much potential—you'll like him for sure. I know you
will."

Hungary couldn't help but crack a smile at Prussia's eagerness. When was the
last time he was happy for any other reason besides hurting Austria?

"What did he write?" Hungary inquired.

"That he is safe and sound back home, and he's keeping up with his studies
and training, and that he misses me," Prussia summarized. "Goodness…it's
been too long since I've seen him, it seems. You know, fighting Austria and
completely obliterating his ass is fun, but I want to go back home
sometimes."

Hungary could only stare incredulously at Prussia. Who was this West that he
could influence even Prussia to drop his shield and armor and be disillusioned
from war, at least to an extent?
There was distant shouting outside of the headquarters. Prussia narrowed his
eyes before gritting his teeth and pulling on his gloves. Hungary remained
seated in her place, watching Prussia suspiciously. Surely he was going to do
something to convince Hungary that it was all an act.

"I've got to deal with some issues concerning the war right now," Prussia said
quickly, kicking open the door. "I'll be back." Without another word he
disappeared through the door, the door slamming behind him.

Hungary wasted no time. She pushed herself out of her armchair and dashed
for Prussia's desk. She spread the many papers across the table, trying to
decipher which could be useful for the Austrian war effort. She only knew
very basic German, so the documents were a mystery to her, only providing
paltry clues that still didn't make sense even if she could read them.

She groaned and unfurled the map that Prussia had put back earlier. The map
of Europe was completely inked with old battle tactics and snippets of
German sentences that still did not make sense. Hungary was at a loss of
ideas on what to do, so she hastily scrawled a sketch of the European map on
the back of scrap paper with a stubby pen, trying to catch the main idea of
the battle plans on paper. She had no idea whether they were already used
or plans for the future, but she clumsily drew it anyway.

As soon as she awkwardly rolled the map back up and stowed it away in its
usual corner, she attacked the desk again. She waved the paper with the
map in the air, urging it to dry more quickly as she dug through the papers.
Would Prussia notice if one of them was missing? No doubt he would.

In an act of desperation, she could only scrawl random sentences on the

same paper. She couldn't understand them, but whatever they said could be
extremely important. She wasn't going to lose any chances.

She wrenched the desk drawers open in search for any sort of key. Supposing
that Austria was kept in the same military fort as they were in right now, no
doubt that he was trapped in a dungeon that needed a key. She peeked
inside and groaned with disappointment. All that was inside were many
sheathed daggers. She fingered her own blade kept discreetly in her boot
before slamming that drawer shut and attacking another. The next one was
filled with many letters addressed to Prussia, sent by the same person: West.

Hungary heard distant voices approaching the room steadily. She gasped
before kicking the drawer closed and hastily returning to her chair. She
patted her pocket protectively, the pocket that held the notes she had
written. She swore to herself that she would cure her German illiteracy
sooner than later.

"—a whole company of them," she heard Prussia say to someone else. "We
can't get to them, so they can only come to us. We're the fort with the most
supplies after all."
The door swung open and Prussia returned. He muttered his goodbyes to one
of his officers before sliding back into his headquarters and shutting the door.
He turned toward Hungary, who was sitting primly at her chair like an
obedient porcelain doll.

"You couldn't have been sitting here the whole time, have you?" Prussia
asked doubtfully. As he walked back to his desk, Hungary heard a slight clink
of metal. She spotted a small rink of keys around Prussia's belt. Of course.

Hungary glanced up at Prussia with wide, confused green eyes. "What else is
there to do?"

Prussia furrowed his eyebrows before sighing and shaking his head.

"Damn," he muttered. "Austria really broke you, didn't he?"

Hungary kept her calm composure, but inside she bristled with indignation.

Austria can't break me!

But she kept her vexation barred behind her teeth.

CHAPTER 5

It was absolutely evident that Prussia was deeply troubled.

Hungary had been at his military fort for two whole days but they never had
the opportunity to sit down and discuss Hungary's potential role in the
Austrian Succession war properly. Duty called Prussia away from her
constantly, rushing him towards other forts and battalions to care for his
men. Unfortunately for Hungary, she was kept under close guard so she was
unable to search for Austria or find any other military secrets. It didn't matter
anyway; Prussia carried the tiny ring of keys with him as he departed, so
even if Hungary did discover where Austria was kept, she wouldn't be able to
enter without suspicion.

It was already arranged, however; if all went horrible, Hungarian soldiers

would attack the fort if Austria was not freed yet. Hungary personally dreaded
such a solution, for it would spell out death for more men than she could
have lost if she was successful.

When Prussia finally returned late at night, his trademark grin was wiped off
his face. His burgundy eyes flashed with something dangerous and
monstrous. It was as if a hint of the monster Hungary had first expected
before she met Prussia for the first time in a long time was finally featuring,
but now she wished it never appeared.
"Well, that's what you would call a Pyrrhic victory," Prussia muttered to
himself, taking off his hat and cloak.

"What happened?" Hungary asked, feigning concern. In actuality, it wasn't

completely faked. It was rare to see Prussia solemn, and it must have been
for good reasons.

"A lot," Prussia said briefly. He ran a hand through his white hair. "A company
is being moved to this fort. They've—well, to put it bluntly, they've received a
beating and we have the most supplies to help them. But I don't know if
they'll make it safely, or if we could save all of them."

"We're taking up your supplies and space, aren't we?" Hungary said
worriedly. She was surprised at her own concern. In her defense, she saw
those men as not just the soldiers that destroyed Austria's forces, but also
men and boys with families waiting for them, not unlike how Hungary waited
for Austria. "We should move from your way as soon as possible—"

"You aren't. Don't fret about it," Prussia said firmly. "Of course this fort is fine.
We're always prepared." He winced slightly before sliding to the ground,
rubbing his ankle gingerly. He looked up at Hungary and shook his head.
"Don't give me that look. It's fine. I'm fine. We'll be all right."

Hungary didn't even know that worry was visible on her face. She quickly
rearranged her features and nodded hurriedly.

"But shouldn't you take better care of it?" she pointed out.

"How?" Gilbert muttered, massaging it tentatively.

"Well, for starters," Hungary said as-a-matter-of-factly, "you shouldn't be

running around all day on a sprained ankle. Stressing it makes it worse."

"You sound like our medic," Prussia grumbled.

"You should listen to your medic," Hungary chided.

"I'm not weak," Prussia protested. "I have to keep on working and fighting."

"Why are you even fighting?" Hungary blurted out. "You've already got
Silesia. Why do you need more land? Your kingdom is already so vast!"

Prussia raised an eyebrow at Hungary guardedly. "You wanted to help me in

a war and yet you don't even think I should be fighting it?"

"I never said—I didn't mean that you shouldn't fight!" Hungary defended
herself as to not blow her cover. "I just want to know—is all this—" She swept
out her arms for emphasis. "—just for more land?"
She didn't know exactly why she was asking. Perhaps she wanted to assure
herself that all of Austria's pain and suffering was for a bigger purpose, at
least somewhat noble and not just for gluttonous, lifeless land.

Prussia bit the corner of his lip contemplatively. "More or less," he admitted.
Hungary clenched her teeth.

"What does that mean?" Hungary demanded.

"I want to win more land," Prussia said circumspectly, "but not for myself."

"I see," Hungary said tentatively. Who was supposed to take all that land
Prussia was trying to earn? "What good would that do?"

Prussia studied Hungary carefully before turning away, arranging his rack of
weapons more neatly. "You said it yourself; my kingdom is quite sizeable
already. Gaining more land would make me stronger, no doubt, but I'm
already at a prominent level. I can wait a little to continue. As for others…"

"Who else is there?" Hungary asked curiously.

"West," Prussia said sharply. He turned back to her, his eyes lit with spirit.
"You'll know it when you see him. He deserves so much more. He's small and
such right now, but if I work hard enough—for the both of us—I can help him
grow strong!"

Hungary furrowed her eyebrows at Prussia's passion. He had always been the
one to fight for himself only. Every man for himself. A dog eat dog world.
Where did that ideology go?

"What is it about him that makes you want to help him so much?" Hungary
questioned. "You don't care for anyone else!"

Her tongue froze a millisecond too late. Prussia raised his eyebrows in
surprise at her declaration, slightly taken aback. She averted her gaze,
resentful and mortified at once.

"I found him almost dead and destroyed by war," Prussia said stiffly. "He's
already seen Hell. There's no reason to make him have to go through more."

And yet you rain hell down on Austria, Hungary thought bitterly. Instead, she
nodded wordlessly.

"So that is the reason," Hungary said carefully. "You're doing all this for…
West?"

"A good part of it, but not completely," Prussia admitted. He fumbled with his
black gloves absentmindedly. "Hungary—are you happy with what you are?"
"W-what?" Hungary said, taken aback. "Wait—what kind of question is that?"

"A blunt and uncensored one," Prussia said frankly.

"Well—" she stammered, her tongue tied with confusion. "I don't exactly—I
don't think I know what you mean by that."

"I meant, are you happy with how your life is now? Part of the Austrian
Empire—your status in your own home—is all that all right with you?" Prussia
asked. Hungary hesitated, looking away from Prussia's attentive red eyes.
Why was he so curious about her life under Austria's rule?

"I am," she said boldly. "I mean—I suppose there are times I'm a little defiant
against Austria, but it's nothing enormous or hateful. I don't hate it."

"So—you're fine with it?" Prussia said anxiously. "If you had a choice between
freedom—your own rule and no one else sharing your country—and what you
have now…would you choose the latter?"

"No," Hungary blurted out. "I'm not fine, but I'm—how do I say this? Okay,
look," Hungary took in a deep breath. Her thoughts were now jumbled. "Of
course I want to be independent. Every country wants to be independent! I
like my freedom and my right to have a choice just as much as any other
nation! But I'm not mutinous or anything."

Prussia seemed relieved by the answer. He let out a sigh and offered a smile.
She bit her lip inquiringly.

"Why?" she demanded.

Prussia pursed his lips wordlessly. He waited a moment before finally

responding.

"I—how do I put this? I made a…deal with Austria's empress," he said.

Hungary stiffened immediately. She glanced down for a second; the ring of
keys was still looped through Prussia's belt.

"I don't understand what you mean," Hungary admitted. "Austria—he's

captured by you, isn't he?"

"How did you know?" Prussia asked, frowning. Hungary swallowed hard,
wildly thinking of an excuse.

"I overheard some of your soldiers talking about it," she fibbed.

"I see," Prussia said contemplatively. He did not continue on; he busied
himself with the artillery batteries for a moment before speaking up again. "I
gave his queen some terms."
"Terms," Hungary repeated, knitting her eyebrows. "What are they?"

Prussia bit the corner of his lip. "That they release you. From their empire."

Hungary's eyes widened. Suddenly nothing made sense to her anymore.

"What? Why did you ask for something like that?"

"So you could have your freedom!" Prussia exclaimed. "So you wouldn't have
to live the rest of your existence under Austria's thumb anymore!"

"But…why?" Hungary demanded, flabbergasted. She had expected so many

other different things Prussia could have asked for: land, money,
unconditional surrender…but instead he had asked for her release. "You
weren't—you didn't want to take over my land, did you?"

"Of course not!" Prussia snorted. "Besides, I wouldn't have to remove you
from your binds to do that."

"Then why?" Hungary echoed faintly.

"Can't you see?" said Prussia, slightly crestfallen. "I just want you to be
happy." He drew away from her, as if concerned that for some reason he had
angered her. Hungary had no idea what to say. Never in her life would she
have dreamed that she was the determining factor of Austria's captivity.

She suddenly realized that Prussia was staring at her. She nervously looked
up and locked her green eyes with his vivid red. Days ago fury would have
burned and risen in her like vomit, but now there was none of it. Confusion
and slight wistfulness was in its place.

"I should check on my men," Hungary said in a cracked voice. "Make sure
that they aren't—misbehaving or anything." She hurriedly tore herself from
Prussia's penetrating gaze and disappeared around the corner. Her heart was
almost left behind, but it remembered in the last second and came chasing
after her, beating ardently.

The boy couldn't have been any older than nineteen.

Austria wasn't exactly sure if it was just because of coincidence or perhaps

Prussia was trying to insult him by placing only one very young guard to keep
watch over his prison. Either way, Austria couldn't help but feel a little wary
and somewhat harried at the situation. This would have been a perfect
moment to attempt a break-out if only he didn't know that there were tens if
not hundreds of Prussian soldiers outside these doors.

It was the only time Austria was left under such meager security. Usually
Prussia would have positioned two very able-bodied guards in the prisons. At
least then the two men would converse amongst each other and fill in the
thick silence that was now flooding the prison. The young boy was standing
stiffly across from Austria's cell, not making a single sound.

"Isn't there someone else who is supposed to be guarding me with you?"

Austria couldn't help but ask. His voice was very dry and crackled from lack
of use.

The young soldier seemed surprise at being addressed to. He hesitated for a
moment before silently shaking his head. Austria shrugged and brushed stray
strands of hair from his hair. His hair was now unkempt and falling over his
already myopic eyes. He was forced into a very simple and grey ensemble as
a prisoner of war, his old uniform long gone. Prussia claimed to have burned
it, and Austria would not be surprised in the least if he did.

"Are you…?" the young boy started. He paused and seemed to want to
change his mind, but pressed on anyway. "Are you actually the country of
Austria?"

Austria raised an eyebrow at the question. "If I wasn't, I doubt your leader
Prussia would hate me as much as he does now." Austria never understood
why Prussia detested him so much. When had Austria ever wronged Prussia?

"And he is actually the embodiment of my home? Truly?" the young boy said
eagerly. Austria nodded and the boy let out a weak chuckle. "I never really
believed it in all honesty…tell me—if you can—do you all represent the
government? Or the people?"

Austria couldn't help but give a crooked smile at the boy's curiosity. It wasn't
unusual for people to confront the truth from their countries.

"We are whoever our government tells us to be," Austria said simply. "They
are our bosses."

The boy nodded as if satisfied, but then a confused spark lit his features once
more. "But—shouldn't they be under your control? Because—without a
country, there isn't a government, right?"

"But without a government, there is not country either," Austria pointed out
sagely. "There are rules on what a nation is and what isn't, and having a
government is one of them."

"I see," the boy said with a tone of eagerness. Soon Austria no longer saw the
stiff and heavy uniform or the weapon in the boy's hands; he could see the
young green eyes and boyish face.

"What's your name?" Austria asked.

"Alois," the young boy answered dutifully.

"Roderich," Austria introduced himself.

"You have names as well?" Alois questioned. "Don't you just go by the name
'Austria?'"

"Some nations do," Austria explained. "For example, I know that Denmark
and Norway opted not to have another alias, but other countries like I have."

"I learn new things every day," Alois quipped. The stiff and unapproachable
façade was quickly dissipating. What would Prussia say at this sight: his
trusted guard warming up to his prisoner and worst enemy?

"Why did you join the army, may I ask?" Austria inquired. "You seem so
young to be fighting in a war."

"I'm twenty years old," Alois said. "My country—Prussia, shall I call him now?
—needed men to step up and help the cause, and I was able enough.
Besides…" He gave a shy smile. "A fine way to get a job, ja? Fulfilling the
Prussian virtues and helping to support my family—why wouldn't I?"

Austria was all too familiar with the Prussian virtues that Friederick I had
imposed. He had to admit that Prussia followed them quite devotedly; his
Pflichtbewusstsein and toughness was impeccable, and neither compassion
nor common sense seemed to have made it on the list.

"Who is in your family?" asked Austria.

"My mother and father. Two younger brothers—twins, actually—and an older

sister," Alois answered, a small smile flitting across his face. "And Analiese.
Well—" His cheeks tinged slightly. "Not yet. But soon, she will. I'm certain of
it."

Austria could decipher that tone of voice from anyone. "A sweetheart?" he
said lightly.

"Perhaps," Alois said, his face coloring rapidly. "We're planning on getting
married as soon as I'm free of service." He gave a resigned chuckle.
"Unfortunately, I've just started and I haven't even seen combat yet, so I
suppose it would take a while."

No wonder he was so lighthearted. Austria was certain that if he had been

guarded by a veteran, such a conversation wouldn't have even begun. To
them, he was the enemy, the monster, the reason why their friends and
comrades were killed in battle.

"Analiese," Austria echoed, tasting the name in his mouth. "How long have
you known her?"
"Since my adolescents," Alois said breezily. "You wouldn't believe it—she and
I always fought when we first met. Most of the time she would win the battles
as well—she considered herself as strong as a boy."

Austria felt a chilling sensation of déjà vu at Alois's story. His heart panged
and he was flooded with both longing and worry for Hungary. How long was it
since he had last seen her? He heard stories through cracks underneath the
heavy doors and the whispers of guards that Hungary had arrived already,
but that was to the extent of his knowledge.

"What about you?" Alois asked. "You countries—do you have families?"

"No," Austria admitted. He stretched out his legs; after being immobile for so
long the muscles creaked in protest. "But…" His mind wandered to Hungary
again and he had every desire to rip apart the bars and search for her, even
though his strength was sapped away. "Alois—I heard Hungary arrived in the
military fort. Is that true?"

Alois was surprised at the question. He hesitated, his eyes darting toward the
door as if to make sure no one was listening in. "Maybe. Why do you ask?"

"I just hear of the guards talking about it many times. I wasn't exactly sure if
that was the truth or not," Austria said carefully. He gripped the metal bars
tightly until it became hot under his palms.

"They must be awfully chatty," Alois commented, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Is she taken as a prisoner?" Austria said nervously.

"As Prussia's guest," Alois corrected, surprised. "Why did you think as a
prisoner?"

"A strange assumption of mine," Austria said anxiously. "No reason, actually."
He drew away from the bars and delved back into the murky shadows of the
cell. Hungary was safe…for now. He had no idea what was in store for her.

"I reckon they must have taken a fancy for each other," Alois said casually.
When he realized what he said, he immediately shut his mouth, embarrassed.

Austria perked up immediately at Alois's words. "Why do you say that?"

"I—I'm not completely sure," Alois stammered. "I mean—they seem very
close, and he—Herr Prussia— becomes much gentler around her—or as
gentle as someone like he could get…And she is kind to him." Alois shrugged
and laughed in spite of himself. "I'm probably mistaken. But he's very
different around her. And they've known each other for so long—that is what
Herr France said when he visited, anyway…"
"I see," Austria said quietly. His mouth grew very dry but he did not let his
uneasiness surface. He had always suspected that Prussia was fond of
Hungary—something Austria had been wary about for years—but what of
Hungary's case? She expressed her undying hatred towards him at any given
chance. It didn't seem like her that she would withhold her antipathy against
him. What was she putting herself up against?

The longer he was left alone deep in his thoughts, the more apprehensive he
became.

Hungary, why are you here?

CHAPTER 6

You've only got one shot, Hungary. Make it good.

Hungary quietly slipped out of the barracks that she shared with the nurses in
the military fort. The tip of the rising sun barely skimmed the horizon, but she
was awake and alert. The only ones awake now were some of the guards
patrolling the heavy door on top of the wall. Prussia and three companies had
left late last night to escort the indisposed soldiers from one miserable fort to
another. The coast was finally clear for her.

She slowly shut and bolted the door behind her, taking extra effort to avoid
drawing any attention. Some of her soldiers were patrolling the fort as well,
but they had little care for keeping the fort safe. Their job was to navigate
every nook and cranny of the fort in order to plan Austria's escape and the
ultimate attack more meticulously.

Tucking her hair into her tight hat, she hurriedly scampered toward one of
her men. Her boots made light patting sounds on the gritty soil, interrupting
the morning silence. Prussian soldiers spared her a curious glance before
moving on with their work, suspecting nothing.

"Abbot!" Hungary hissed. Abbot, a bearded redhead, turned quickly to

Hungary. She dashed to his side, one hand clamped over her hat and the
other holding her musket tightly. She immediately slowed her pace into an
aimless amble when she reached him, feigning no conspiracy. After walking
in silence together past the Prussian guards, she finally spoke up.

"What have you and the others found out?" she asked.

"This place is massive. It took a great amount of time to map this place out
mentally," Abbot said under his breath. He eyed a Prussian soldier that was
close by, loading his musket with gunpowder. "The building past the place
where they make repairs—that is where they keep a lot of gunpowder. I don't
think it's even all of it."
"What else?" Hungary urged. Abbot closed his mouth as three Prussians
walked past them. He watched them leave with narrowed eyes before
continuing.

"There are batteries atop their fortifications that they can aim at anyone
threatening them," Abbot reported. "They are not fixed to the spot, so if
trouble erupts inside the fort, they could easily swerve their aim."

"How much gunpowder is in that storage house behind the repair station?"

"Several barrels—the place wasn't very big, but it's enough to supply several
companies—perhaps even a battalion," answered Abbot. Hungary chewed on
the corner of her lip contemplatively.

"Is that place guarded?" she asked curiously.

"Not exactly. The doors are locked and there are no windows to it, but
otherwise there is no actual guard standing post," said Abbot.

"I'm supposing Prussia has the key for that," Hungary muttered to herself.
She thought of the ring of keys dangling teasingly on Prussia's belt. "What
about the prisons?"

Abbot glanced around to make sure their conversation was not overheard. "I
haven't seen it for myself, nor have any of our other men. However, I heard
that the barracks are between the headquarters and the stables, not too far
from the gunpowder room."

"Isn't that where the infirmary is?" Hungary asked.

"Yes. They share the same building, except the cells are downstairs,"
confirmed Abbot. "It's such a large building; I actually don't find it surprising
that it serves two roles."

Hungary cursed under her breath. "There are guards there all the time. And
I'm sure there are at least two guards down in the actual prison. How am I
supposed to go there? I need to tell Austria that I'm actually here and I'm
going to help him."

"Shh," Abbot warned, glaring at two unaware strangers from the corner of his
eyes. The Prussians glanced confusedly at their way but did not press further.
"You're in enemy territory; shouldn't you be more careful?"

"All right, all right," Hungary said, irritated at being scolded. "When do you
think is better: now, when not everyone is alert and awake, or later, when
there is too much going on for them to notice?"

"It all depends on your means of going to Austria," Abbot said in a low voice.
Hungary stayed silent for a moment, thinking furiously for a plan. Her eyes
locked on Prussia's headquarters a little ways off.

"Prussia is apparently under the impression that I hate Austria," she said
slowly. "I'll just use that to my advantage."

Abbot did not reply. Hungary beckoned him to follow her as she strode
quickly toward the infirmary and prisons. There was only one soldier at the
entrance of the building, and when he saw Hungary advancing he turned to
her sharply.

"Your business?" he said efficiently.

"I have to get in," Hungary said harshly.

"I can see that," the soldier said testily. "But your reason?"

"It's the infirmary. What other information do you need? Isn't it quite
obvious?" Hungary snapped. The soldier studied her with his cloudy green
eyes. She could tell that he was skeptical of her reason, seeing that she
appeared unharmed.

"I need to seek help from a nurse," lied Hungary. "I have female problems
that I need to deal with now."

The fib apparently convinced the young soldier enough. He nodded quickly
and stood to the side, permitting Hungary in. However, Abbot was stopped at
the door immediately, for he had no reason to follow Hungary as she tended
to her 'female problems.'

"Danke," Hungary said surly as she hurried down the corridor. When the
sunlight in the hallway disappeared as the door closed behind her, she took a
quick detour to the iron door and down the black stairs at the very end of the
passageway. Her footsteps echoed eerily in the emptiness, sounding wet and
cold.

One guard was pacing through the prison room, his bored eyes locked on
Austria's. He almost didn't notice Hungary as she sped downstairs. It was
difficult to see where Austria was even when the prisons were lit with oil
lamps. Before the guard could confront her, she marched up to Austria's cell.
Austria looked up at her in surprise and stood up quickly, emerging from the
sickly shadows. Austria was very pale and looked ill, making Hungary sick to
the stomach with hatred of Prussia.

She didn't even have time to consider her actions. She strode up to him, and
just as the guard was about to push her away, she spat at Austria.
Austria jerked back in surprise. Hungary was immediately sick with guilt when
she saw the confusion and hurt in his wide, violet eyes. Even the guard
seemed taken aback, stopping immediately in his tracks.

"It's good to see where you belong," she said coldly. Austria didn't reply, nor
did his expression change, but Hungary knew him enough to recognize the
change in emotion behind his dark eyes. She sucked in a deep breath and
turned quickly to the guard.

"Could you please excuse us?" Hungary said through gritted teeth. "I want to
have some moments alone with my monster of a slave owner and tell him
just exactly what I thought about all those years of serving under him."

The guard bit his lip and saluted, recognizing a livid country when he saw
one. He gave a short bow before climbing up the stairs. She did not move
until she heard the resonating clang of the metal door upstairs. Once she
heard that, she immediately reached through the bars and took Austria's
hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that disrespect. Please
forgive me."

Austria gripped Hungary's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her sharp
knuckles. She felt a warm glow inside of her at his familiar touch and she
couldn't help but laugh weakly.

"Are you all right?" Austria asked worriedly. "Has Prussia hurt you?"

"I should be the one asking that to you!" Hungary exclaimed. "What
happened to your glasses?" She gazed at his disheveled state, noting the
bandages around his legs and head.

Austria gave a wry smile that told everything. Hungary gritted her teeth.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Hungary said quietly. "I promise." She cast
a nervous glance at the stairway. She backed away from the prison cells and
shouted in a loud voice, "How could you say that?" She turned back to Austria
guiltily.

"I have to keep up the act that I hate you," she said apologetically. "They
might suspect something."

"Are you alone here?" Austria asked.

"No. I have several of my men with me," Hungary said. "And…it's already
been decided. I've already planned for two battalions to march over here and
attack the fort. That is if I don't get you out of here by then."

"How much longer until they arrive?" Austria demanded.

"Perhaps…perhaps three days from now," Hungary estimated. "I want to get
you out of here before then. I don't want to risk any more lives."

Austria pursed his lips in thought. He shook his head. "No. I think we should
wait until they actually arrive."

"Why?" Hungary asked, aghast.

"If it is just you, me, and a handful of your soldiers running away from this
fort, Prussia's men would catch up with us and defeat us in no time," Austria
pointed out. "Then Prussia will hurt you, and we'll be back to the beginning,
except at a very great disadvantage."

"So you want to be busted out right when my men appear?" inquired
Hungary.

"The more confusion, the better distraction," Austria pointed out swiftly.
"Perhaps we need to convince the guards upstairs that you hate me once
more."

"Right," Hungary said regretfully. She motioned for Austria to back away from
the bars. He did so according, and Hungary raised her musket and banged
the handle on the bars. The sharp and angry clang rang through the prison.

"As we were saying," Austria said smoothly as if nothing happened, "it would
be better if I was out of this prison cell right before your men make an attack.
If Prussia realizes that his enemies happen to be Hungarian, you will be in
great danger."

"I'm the one busting you out of this cell in the first place. I'm signing up for
great danger no matter what."

"But you could do it inconspicuously," Austria insisted. "Do you know where
the prison keys are?"

"Yes!" Hungary answered feverishly. "Prussia keeps them."

"Delightful," Austria muttered. He ran a gray hand through his mussy hair. "Is
there any way you can get your hands on them?"

"I could try," Hungary said warily.

"Thank you," Austria said gratefully. "Bring them to me before the attack. I'll
carry out the rest. Tell me about the layout of this fort, please."

"To the left of this building is the horse stables," Hungary said quickly. "Right
next to that is where they keep some extra gunpowder. To the right is the
officers' headquarters, and a little ways further is the barracks." She used her
fingers to imitate two walking legs, as if giving Austria a makeshift tour of the
fort. "Right in front is where they keep their food, and around that is a repair
station, weaponry, and more barracks."

"What about the walls and the entrance to this place? How impenetrable?"
Austria questioned.

"The walls are thick stone. Quite impenetrable," confessed Hungary. "The
doors are just as well, and there are men that guard the doors and control
them—whether or not they will open."

"Are they on the ground or on the walls?" Austria asked.

Hungary furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. "They're on top. The walls

are about two hundred and fifty meters high."

Austria nodded thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed with thought. "Cannons on

top as well, I presume?"

"Obviously," Hungary muttered. Afterward, she let out a ruthless insult for the
guards above to hear and even Austria feigned a cry of pain to add to the
effect. "If you need to hide, I suggest the very back of the fort, behind the
storage of coal."

"It isn't so I can hide," Austria said in a low voice. "It's for something else." He
looked up warily. "I heard rumors that Prussia is trying to recruit you into
some Freedom Fighter group or something along those lines."

"Those are certainly just rumors. I don't even know of a Freedom Fighter
group," Hungary laughed. "Perhaps they were talking of how Prussia is
always trying to convince me to regain my independence."

"Why?" Austria asked, even though he believed he already knew the answer
too well.

"He—well," Hungary said with discomfort. "He doesn't like how you have
control over me, I suppose. He's desperate to take me away from you."

Austria's eyes flickered to the ground; there was an unreadable expression on

his face. "Does he really think I mistreat you?"

"I don't know. Perhaps," Hungary admitted. She never thought Austria as a
tyrant in her life, but admittedly she would sometimes be bold at his control
over her.

"You should go," Austria said quietly. "If you stay here too long, they might
get suspicious."

"I'm surprised that they aren't checking on you to make sure I haven't killed
you yet," Hungary quipped.
"I'm sure Prussia told them that I was better off dead anyway," Austria said,
shrugging. Hungary nodded and backed away. Before she did, Austria pulled
her close by the hand and kissed it once more time. Hungary felt her heart
both flutter with joy and ache because Austria was forced to suffer and she
couldn't do anything about it. She squeezed his fingers, reluctant to let go.

"Go," Austria urged. Hungary took in a deep breath before releasing her grip
on him. She bounded up the stairs, forcing herself not to look back in fear
that she would cave in and rush back to him, perhaps even blowing her
cover. She glanced down at her hand, still warm and cheered from Austria's
kiss.

Her mind suddenly flitted toward Prussia.

She gulped and immediately shoved her hand into her pocket, bewildered.

Where did Prussia belong in all of this?

It was near evening when Prussia finally returned to the fort with the battle-
worn company he had gone to fetch. When the guards of the walls finally
pulled the lever back and opened the door, Hungary saw with horror the state
of the weary company. Many were riding wagons because they were unfit to
walk, and those that were lucky enough to be on their feet were still covered
in dirty makeshift bandages. Many of them had lost their military wigs, so
their long hair was slick with sweat and blood.

The wounded soldiers were quickly ushered into the infirmary. Hungary
craned her neck to try to find Prussia in the midst of them, but was
unsuccessful. There were just too many people. It wasn't like she could
search for a shock of white hair to locate him; not only was it dusk and dark,
but many heads were bandaged, giving the impression of pale hair.

What had happened to these men? Were they battling England's army? She
wasn't sure if England bothered to even fight with Prussia or not, considering
that he always busied himself with defeating France.

"Wo kommen Sie her?" Hungary asked the first soldier she approached, her
tongue feeling heavy with the unfamiliar German. The soldier spared her a
glance but did not answer. She watched as the group of people trudged to
the infirmary, her heart sinking at the sight. This did not look like the army of
the ruthless Prussian army she had always pictured; they only looked like
homesick and defeated men, lost in the whirlwind of blood and metal. Even
victors had to pay a price.

"Prussia?" she cried out, her voice rising over the men's heads. "Prussia!"
Receiving no response, she hurried to the infirmary. The beds were all
occupied and the nurses were flying from one patient to another. They had to
strip the soldiers of their dirty, bloodied bandages and clean the wounds as
best as they could. Many were already infected.

"Prussia!" Hungary tried again, standing on her tip-toes.

"Over here, Hungary!"

She heard Prussia's loud voice over the loud din. She maneuvered her way
through the rows of beds to where Prussia was. Prussia couldn't even stand
still for one second. He was helping the nurses bandage his men's wounds,
pour water, stitch deep cuts, even clean the bed sheets. He quickly moved
back and forth, his hands constantly busy. Hungary noted that Prussia was
limping now; the sprained ankle was finally catching up on him.

"What happened to everyone?" Hungary asked.

Prussia didn't have time to answer. A small cry called him to the farthest
corner of the infirmary and he hurried off immediately with a roll of bandages
in one hand and a rag soaked in hot water in the other. Hungary searched
around for an unattended roll of bandages for her to take, but there were
none. All of them were being used if not already used up.

"Prussia, let me do all of this," Hungary demanded, reaching out to take the
wet rag and bandages.

"I'll do it. I'm fine," Prussia said in a rushed voice. He was proficiently
wrapping up a man's bleeding leg.

"You should be treated yourself!" Hungary cried out. "Look at your ankle!"

"I told you, it'll be fine!" Prussia insisted. He poured a glass of water and gave
it to a soldier whose eyes were covered with white and red.

A voice nagged at her in the back of her head. What would Austria think if he
saw her tending to his wounded enemies? Nevertheless, she couldn't just
waltz out of the infirmary and feel nothing for them. They were no longer
masked with the bloodthirsty aura that she thought she hated; she saw the
raw, pained men underneath.

Prussia handed Hungary a chick wad of clean bandages. A young voice cried
out in pain; Prussia closed his eyes. Hungary could see the pain in his face
that had nothing to do with physical wounds. He opened them and gazed into
Hungary's eyes. His red eyes were filled with an emotion Hungary never
imagined that Prussia could even comprehend.

"Help me," Prussia pleaded. Hungary couldn't refuse him. She nodded
fervently and followed him to the bedside of a very young soldier. Prussia
gritted his teeth before pushing up his sleeves and kneeling next to the bed.
"Luther Friedman, isn't it?" Gilbert muttered. The young boy nodded shakily.
The bandaged wrapped around his head and covered his right eye was
colored with blood, and his arm was in a sling. His whole torso was covered in
bloody bandages. "It's okay; I'm going to patch you up."

Luther gulped and nodded once more. Gilbert undid the knot on the crude
sling carefully, trying not to disturb the injured arm. Hungary set down her
bandages on the bedside and helped Gilbert slide the grubby cloth away from
the boy.

"What happened to the last fort these men were in?" Hungary murmured to
Gilbert. She thought of how meticulous and well supplied this fort was.

"England decided to make his mark," Prussia said briefly. He pursed his lips at
the sight of the very broken arm. It was set correctly, but there was no doubt
that it was very shattered. Without saying another word, he wrapped the arm
with a thick layer of cloth. Luther swallowed hard, forcing down grunts of
pain. Hungary could see the blood seeping through his bandages on his
chest.

"Once we have you fixed and healed, you get to rest," Prussia promised,
tying the sling around the boy's neck. "Isn't that great? You'll get to relax and
I'll bet that the war will be over before you even get to return to duty."

Luther gave a brittle and hollow laugh that unnerved Hungary. Boys as young
as Luther shouldn't have so little hope. War did not just kill men. Hope was
one of the thousands of victims.

"You live in—in Berlin, don't you?" Prussia asked. Hungary wondered how
Prussia could even keep a tab on every one of his soldiers. When Luther
nodded, Prussia gave him a sunny smile. "Amazing. That's where I am as
well. Maybe after we win this war, I'll go to your family and brag to them how
awesome you were."

"D-don't have to," Luther stuttered bashfully. His face was beginning to pale,
and though Prussia's optimistic persona did not falter, his hands began to
work more frantically as he unraveled the bandages on Luther's sunken
chest.

When the bandages were removed, Hungary felt her heart sink. The wound
was so ghastly, and there were already signs of infection. She could feel
Prussia's tension as well as he hesitated before cleaning the wound. Luther
gasped in pain as Prussia struggled to clean the infection. It looked several
days old already.

"It's bad—isn't it?" Luther mumbled.

"No," Prussia said stoutly. "You will be all right, Luther. Just trust me."
Luther was trembling—whether from pain from his grotesque injury or from
emotion, it was hard to tell. Hungary had to scrape the infected flesh from his
chest with a knife; she was amazed she didn't cut the boy in half because her
hands were shaking. This was not new to her; she had fixed horrible wounds
before, so why was she so nervous now?

"It's been like that for days," Luther said quietly. "Maybe even a week. It must
have gone really—really bad, hasn't it?"

"We just need to clean it up and bandage it tight," Prussia said with
determination that shook his voice. Luther was paling dramatically now,
almost to a grisly gray. "Then you have to rest. I told you that. Don't worry.
Please," his voice seemed to break after he said that word, "don't worry."

Hungary felt her throat tighten as she handed Prussia the fresh roll of
bandages. The boy's chest looked so frightening that even she had her
doubts. How young was he? Eighteen? Not even old enough to marry and he
was about to die.

All around them the moans of men and the nurses speaking in condescending
voices echoed in their ears. Hungary could barely hear herself think. The
infirmary was chaotic yet she could only see and know one thing; this boy—
Luther—was dying on this very bed.

"Hungary!" Prussia said loudly. "Scissors!"

Hungary handed him the blades. Prussia cut the bandages off from the rest of
the roll and tied it tight.

"Poroszország," Hungary said quietly, reverting to her own language. She

knew that Prussia knew enough of Hungarian to understand. She stared at
the clean bandages that covered an impossible would and couldn't help but
think that it was going to be for a waste. "Nem fogja túlélni."

Prussia looked up in shock at Hungary's bluntness. The energy in his eyes

turned from frantic to cold resolve.

"You're wrong," Prussia said sharply. He glanced nervously down at Luther,

who was sickly pale and extremely worried. He lowered his voice and replied
back in the unfathomable Hungarian. "I can heal something like this. I've
done it before."

Prussia saw how Hungary's expression did not change. However, Hungary
could see that his eyes were not coated with fortitude with a thin pit of doubt
nestled deep inside; it was pure determination. Hungary hesitated before
nodding and continuing to help Prussia.
But it was going horribly for them. Just as they moved on to fixing the head
would, the chest wound burst open again and soaked the bandages through.
Hungary had to tend to the head wound as Prussia returned to the old injury.

"It h-hurts," Luther choked out as Prussia mopped the blood off his chest.
Prussia set his jaw but didn't speak or betray his composure. His hands were
smothered with the boy's blood.

"Just relax. We've got it under control," muttered Prussia. He began to stitch
up the boy's chest. Hungary was gently cleaning the dried blood on Luther's
head. Even that gash looked absolutely worrying.

"Herr Preußen!" a nurse's voice called out. The young girl was swamped with
injured soldiers. "Bitte helfen Sie mir!"

Prussia held back momentarily. He clenched his teeth before looking back at
the desperate nurse. Even with the fort's large supply of nurses, the hospice
was still barely keeping afloat in the ocean of blood. He hurriedly finished
stitching the wound and wrapping it up once more.

"Stay calm, all right?" Prussia said to Luther, wiping off the blood in a basin of
water. "Keep your breathing level so you won't burst any of those stitches."
He nodded toward Hungary. "You're in good hands."

Hungary felt a cold chill as Prussia rose to his feet and followed the nurse
asking for help. She turned back to Luther, who was looking no better. She
sucked in a deep breath and continued with the head injury; the air smelt of
sticky sweat, blood, and mud.

"Is it that easy?" Luther said in a strangled voice. Hungary did not understand
him until she saw him gazing at something from the side. Nurses had pulled a
sheet over one fellow soldier's head and carried him out. There was no time
for words of memory or respect. That bed was needed.

Hungary had no idea what to say. All her life she knew that death was a
faraway and unfamiliar thing, something she needn't worry about. She rode
out into battle without any fear or thought of it. How could she comfort a
human boy like Luther if she had absolutely no knowledge how it felt to
almost die?

"I'm almost done with your bandages here," Hungary answered quietly. "And
then you won't have to worry."

"I want to go home," Luther whispered. Hungary stiffened at the boy's honest
words but did not even pause in her work. The tightening in her throat nearly
choked her as she fumbled with the bandages with her trembling hands.

"You will," Hungary said desperately. She finally tied the last knot on the
bandages. "I'm done. See? You can sleep now. Rest."
Luther nodded shakily and closed his eyes. Hungary backed away and rubbed
her fingers together. They were sticky and gritty with dried blood.

She looked around her, gazing at the bloodied chaos. To think that even the
Prussian army could be reduced to such a state! Her previous mental image
of old, burly soldiers was reduced to withering, helpless boys.

How was it possible for her to hate them?

She then remembered that soon, if not three days from now, if these boys
made it back by then, she would have to fight and kill them.

Hungary was cloaked with midnight.

Prussia had stayed up till nearly one thirty in the morning tending to the
soldiers, and Hungary could never get close enough to him to sneak the key
from his belt. It wasn't until he returned to his headquarters around two in
the morning did Hungary sneak towards it. Very few men were up at this
hour; they were either sleeping away in the barracks or being tended by the
gentle nurses in the sickbay. The guards patrolling on top of the wall were
focused on the happenings outside their fort, not inside.

As quietly as she could, she opened the door to the large headquarters
building. Most of the high-ranking officers slept in their own rooms apart from
the others in the army, so Hungary assumed that Prussia did the same. If he
was asleep by now, and his belt thrown carelessly on the floor or a chair,
Hungary could just slip the ring of keys off and succeed in her mission…

She tip-toed through the long hallway, her boots thudding on the wooden
floor. She winced at every sound and prayed that all the officers were too
dead asleep to hear her. Prussia's door was a little ways off, just five more
down.

One…two…three…four…

She rested her hand on the doorknob, wondering what she would do if the
door happened to be locked.

Five.

She gripped the handle and slowly turned it. The door opened to a slight slit.
She took in a deep breath and pushed it open a little more.

"What are you doing here?"

Hungary let out a little squeak of surprise at Prussia's sharp whisper and
nearly backed into the wall. Prussia was still awake, surrounded by a flurry of
papers and maps. The room was lit by several knobby candles positioned
haphazardly in the corners.

"I—I—" Hungary tried to answer, desperately thinking of a response. "I

thought I accidentally left something here. Um, when you were gone, I was in
here because—I was looking for a map. And I thought I left my—gloves—
here."

It was probably the worst lie she could have ever thought of, but as Prussia
looked around the room, Hungary reckoned that he didn't find it too
surprising to lose anything in such a cluttered room. Prussia shrugged and
pushed a pile of papers on the ground to the side with his foot.

"It couldn't wait until the morning?" he muttered.

"It was a spur of the moment sort of thing," Hungary said innocently. "I didn't
think you would uh, be in here. Awake."

"Couldn't sleep," Prussia replied, running a hand through his white hair. "I'm
surprised you're still awake. Aren't you tired?"

"Aren't you?" Hungary found herself saying. Prussia still wore the belt, but the
keys were no longer looped through it. She spotted them in his pocket
instead. This was going to be much more difficult than she had imagined.

"I told you. I can't sleep," Prussia repeated. "I'm trying to—uh—do
something." He looked around at the mess of papers. "I think." Even his cot
was loaded with papers. It looked as if it hadn't been slept in for days.

"Why can't you sleep?" Hungary asked innocently. She saw Prussia's navy
coat draped over a wooden chair. The sleeves were lined with dried blood.

"I shouldn't sleep," Prussia said flatly. He rubbed his eyes and cleared a spare
chair of rubbish. "Here. Sit."

"I don't need to," Hungary protested. "You should be the one sitting. Don't try
to hide it. Your ankle is getting worse."

"It's perfectly fine," Prussia said stubbornly. Hungary had to fight down the
urge to kick his wounded ankle just to prove a point. Before, she would have
done it immediately, but now she couldn't bring herself to do it. It didn't feel
right anymore.

"Look at you. You're tired. Keep this up and you will drop dead in battle
before you even start fighting," Hungary scolded.

"Since when did you become a mother hen?" Prussia quipped. Hungary
glared at Prussia, but only because she didn't know the answer. She was
shocked when she realized that inside, it was no longer an act to win trust. It
was genuine.

"I heard from one of my guards that you went to visit a certain prisoner
today," Prussia said in a strange voice. Hungary felt her heart skip a beat and
cold fear froze her skin.

"I did," she said stiffly.

He cracked a slight smile that made Hungary relax. In all honesty, there was
no reason to relax; he could easily denounce her right then and there. It was
just that his smile made her feel relieved.

"He said you unleashed quite a hell on Austria," Prussia continued.

She let out a soft sigh. "Yes. I did." She swallowed hard. "I don't regret it."

"I thought you said you didn't mind Austria," Prussia pointed out as he
scooped his papers and pens off his cot and arranged them on his desk.

"I thought I did also," Hungary said in a hollow voice. She averted her gaze to
the floor. "But—I realized that the old life—what I have now—isn't the way I
want to live. I don't want to be bound to Austria."

Prussia looked at her with a mixture of surprise and confusion. She braced
herself and looked up at his face. It was hard to see what he was thinking or
feeling since the room was so dim.

"Do you mean it?" Prussia said, unsure.

"Yes," Hungary choked out. "I miss being who I want to be."

She gripped her hands into fists. Prussia stared at her for a moment before
moving toward her. However, just as he did so, his ankle gave out on him and
he stumbled, crashing into the chair. Hungary gasped immediately and
reached out to him.

"I told you, didn't I?" she hissed. "I told you that you would only hurt yourself
more if you keep straining your ankle!"

"I hope no one woke up from that," Prussia muttered to himself, not paying
heed to Hungary's warning. He hobbled to his cot, where he sat down and
fingered his sprained ankle gingerly.

"Why can't you sleep?" Hungary asked again. "It certainly isn't because you
aren't tired."
"I just can't," Prussia said sternly. Hungary sat down on a chair across from
him. "It isn't anything out of the ordinary; I usually don't sleep a lot during
war."

"That's stupid," Hungary said harshly. She softened her voice. "Maybe I can
help?"

"Doubt it," Prussia said immediately. "It's just—" He hesitated. "I always get
nightmares during wartime. I can't stand them anymore."

"Why do you get nightmares?" Hungary inquired, perplexed.

"I don't know. I just do," Prussia mumbled. "I-I'm not scared or anything!" he
said stoutly, trying to cover up his weakness. "It's just—annoying to see those
things and wake up in the middle of the night, and—well—you know what I
mean, don't you?"

Hungary nodded, though inside she knew that it was all a lie. If they weren't
frightening or disturbing, they wouldn't be considered nightmares in the first
place.

"Are they about war?" she asked. Prussia nodded. "I thought you liked war."

"I like the fighting and the victory," Prussia admitted. He gazed out the small
window on the wall. They could see the infirmary from here. His eyes did not
harden with hatred and vengeance, but saddened. It was then that Hungary
felt like she was his best friend in childhood again, where she could read his
thoughts and understand him without having him say a word. "But I hate
what it does to my men—"

He was interrupted when Hungary reached out and pulled him into a tight
hug. He jumped slightly in his seat at the sudden embrace. She gripped him
tightly, her mind screaming at her. What in the world was she doing? She
backed away quickly, her face growing extremely warm. What had happened
in the week that she had been here?

"Are you…?" Prussia said, confused.

"Don't say anything," Hungary mumbled. She tucked her hair behind her ear.
She caught a glint and remembered the ring of keys. She almost forgot why
she had come here.

"You should try going to bed," Hungary said softly. "There's a long day
ahead."

"I told you; I'll have nightmares," Prussia reminded her.

"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," Hungary said. Prussia blinked
bemusedly. "Come on. It'll be safe."
Prussia let out a weak chuckle. "I can't fall asleep with you in the room. That's
weird."

"Just do as I say, Prussia," Hungary said lightly. Prussia shrugged and lied
down on the cot awkwardly, one leg still hanging off the edge. Hungary
kicked it light and he obediently put that leg up as well.

"This is strange," Prussia admitted after a moment of silence. "I'm sorry.

Thank you for the attempt and all—but I'm not used to someone staring at
me until I fell asleep."

Hungary ruffled his hair teasingly. She could see Prussia's eyelids grow heavy
with fatigue and she placed his hand on top of hers. His hand was cool and
yet familiar.

"Sleep, baby, sleep" Hungary sang softly. Prussia closed his eyes, a small
smile on his face, "close your eyes…"

Her voice was soft, something she didn't expect. She would have suspected
that her voice would always be cold and harsh towards her former enemy,
but now it was as gentle as she would use with Austria.

Wait.

Former enemy?

"Sleep, ingo-bingo," she continued her lullaby. Prussia let out a chuckle at the
nonsensical word and even Hungary couldn't suppress a smile. "Little rose
bud…"

She had never even sung this to Austria before. She only remembered giving
this song to baby Italy when the little child couldn't sleep after Holy Roman
Empire had departed for war. She could barely remember the words, and
most of the song consisted of humming now, the melody whispered over and
over again.

So much can change in a week, can it?

"The violet is sleeping," Hungary sang tenderly. "Sleep, baby, sleep…"

Silence. Only soft breathing. Hungary glanced at Prussia and found him finally
asleep. He seemed so different when he slept; no more arrogance, no more
anger, just peace. For some reason, it almost broke her heart. She just
realized that she was holding his hand tightly, and she quickly let go.

She sat in silence, watching his sleeping form. She didn't know how long it
finally took her to remind herself once more why she was here. She slowly
reached towards his pants pocket, her nerves shot with anxiousness. As
slowly and as carefully as possible, she slipped her hand into the pocket. She
felt the cold metal key ring graze against her finger and gripped it tightly
before extracting it. Prussia stirred slightly and she froze, her heart beating
wildly in her chest. When all was quiet again, she took the keys from Prussia.

The ring of keys jingled softly as they nestled against each other. Hungary
searched through them carefully before recognizing one of the keys to be
identical to the ones the guard down at the prison had. She slid the key from
the ring and stowed it away in her pocket. As gently as she could, she stowed
the key ring back into Prussia's pockets.

It was finished. She finally achieved it. She let out a sigh of relief before rising
from her seat. She couldn't help but spare Prussia one last glance. She looked
at him so differently now. Something cold and bitter coated her heart, but
she couldn't understand what it was.

Guilt?

For what, though?

She turned to leave, but her muscles felt frozen to the spot. She took in a
deep breath and stood from her seat. She blew out the candles, bathing the
room in indigo as blue moonlight trickled from the window. She watched
Prussia's silhouette, watching his chest rise as he breathed deeply. As her
heart panged painfully, she finally tore herself away and disappeared from
the room.

CHAPTER 7

Austria grazed his thumb across the jagged edge of the door key in the safety
of the darkness. It was the third day, the day all their actions were supposed
to take place. Admittedly, he was rather nervous about the ordeal, but what
other plan did they have?

He glanced up at the guard who was positioned in the cells today. It was Alois
again, less cheerful or talkative than usual because apparently one of his
good friends in the army was one of the victims that were brought in for
treatment some days ago, and had died earlier that day. Austria wanted to
give some sort of comfort, but he knew it would be futile. He had never had
such a close relationship with a human before because he knew how the
story would end. He would always be left behind.

He glanced upward toward the black ceiling as if he could see through the
rock and find out what was going on above. There was no sign of an
upcoming battle, so he supposed that Hungary's army did not arrive yet.
When was he supposed to carry out his plan? Too late would be useless; too
soon would cause too much suspicion.
Well, it's now or never, Austria thought to himself bitterly, finally creeping
toward the bars.

Alois did not seem to notice. He had taken advantage of the period of
quietness and solitude to write a letter in the weak light of the lamps on the
wall. About his unfortunate tragedy, no doubt. Austria felt the inevitable guilt
cloud over his plan, but he fanned it away quickly.

He reached to the ground and quietly picked up the old fork that was given to
him during meals. He casually leaned against the bars, playing with the fork
absentmindedly, before 'accidentally' letting it slip through the bars. It
clattered to the ground and slid out of Austria's reach.

He let out a silent curse and sighed. Pressing himself against the bars, he
coughed quietly to get Alois's attention. Alois looked up from his letter,
perplexed.

"Sorry," Austria said softly. "Would you mind getting that for me?"

Alois put down his pen and paper and reached down to take the fork. Just as
he came closer to hand Austria the fork, Austria reached through the bars
and grabbed the front of Alois's coat. He wrenched Alois towards him,
slamming the boy's head against the metal bars. Alois slumped to the
ground, knocked out. Austria hurriedly reached his arm out of the bar toward
the lock, unlocking the door with the key. The lock clicked and the barred
door swung open obediently. He couldn't help but sigh with relief, despite the
guilt that plagued him.

"It's all for the better," Austria muttered to himself. It was safer for Alois to be
down here than up on ground level later. As swiftly as he could, Austria stole
Alois's navy blue military coat, boots, hat, and gloves, leaving him with only
simple britches and shirt. Austria used the oil he had saved from many of his
meals to slick Alois's long and dark hair to his scalp so that it would appear
short, for Alois's hair was longer than Austria's. He hurriedly pulled on Alois's
uniform, shielding his face with the black hat. For safe measure, Austria
bound Alois's wrists and ankles and muffled the boy. He silently closed the
door and locked it shut.

His legs were still shaky and weak after being unused for so long in such a
small place. He crept up the stairs, almost falling because his injuries that
Prussia had given him still smarted. He wasn't sure if anyone would notice
who he was; most of the soldiers didn't actually see what Austria looked like
since not everyone guarded his prison or witnessed his imprisonment.
However, if he ran into Prussia himself…

His fingers (so bony and weak now after so much abuse, could they even play
a single note on any instrument now?) curled around the metal doorknob at
the top of the stairs. He took in a deep breath before twisting it and pushing
it open.
He could hear many muffled voices on the other side of the door and he
froze, his heart practically stopping. Then he realized that they were all
coming from the infirmary and not an imaginary throng of soldiers at the
door. If he could sneak past the doorway, they wouldn't notice him…

Austria stepped out, reveling at the smell of blood and sickness that wafted
from the infirmary. It was not unlike the prisons. Judging by the number of
lamps already lit, it must have been close to dusk by now. Perfect; it was
harder for anyone to see him in the dark.

Austria braced himself. Whether or not this would work was beyond him; if it
failed, then he would not only be sent to the prisons again but also drag
Hungary with him. That thought alone gave him a huge surge of
determination to succeed.

At that very moment, he bolted toward the door.

Three days had passed so unbearably slowly that Hungary was almost certain
that her army would never come. She had snuck the key to Austria after she
swiped them from Prussia, but she had no idea what in the world Austria was
planning. According to Abbot, the man she sent to give the key to Austria,
Austria had given her one warning: to stay as close to the walls as possible, if
not on top of them. Confused as she was, she silently obliged, offering to
keep watch on the door on the top of the fortifications.

The third day had dragged by restlessly, causing Hungary's heart to quiver at
every beat with nervousness. From morning to dusk she had been waiting for
some sign of her army, but none had come. For a moment she wondered if
she had accidentally miscounted the days and fretted that it would
completely ruin their plans.

"Something the matter?"

She gasped and spun around, her hand flying to her waist where she kept a
sheathed dagger.

"Of course not!" she sputtered.

Prussia raised his eyebrow at her reaction. "You were never a really good
liar."

Hungary snorted at the irony. She would have laughed in spite of herself if
she wasn't so nervous. The sun was settling into the horizon, darkening the
sky. Didn't the army promise to come on this date? They couldn't have been
held up, could the army promise to come on this date? They couldn't have
been held up, could they?
"Why are you even up here anyway?" Prussia asked. "You don't have to work
while you're here."

"What's wrong with it?" Hungary asked. "You aren't going to say this is a
man's work, are you?"

"Psht, no," Prussia chuckled. "I'm just saying—I never asked you to—"

"I think that if you asked I would be more reluctant to actually do it," Hungary
admitted.

"Good point," Prussia said, smiling. They stayed quiet for a moment or two,
watching the sun sink into the earth at an alarmingly fast rate, leaving only
pastel residue on the blue canvas. Hungary was running out of time and she
had no idea what to do.

"Austria's little queen never gave me an answer," Prussia said

conversationally. The drone of other soldiers' voices around them filled the
silence between them. "I don't know what she's waiting for."

"Mmm," Hungary replied simply. How would Maria Theresa respond, if she
didn't have a plan to save Austria already? Would she let Hungary go?

"I suppose it wouldn't be that easy, eh?" Prussia said dryly, stretching his
arms. Hungary cast a quick glance behind her shoulder toward the inside of
the fort. Did Austria escape his cell by now?

"If it was that easy, it would have been done a long time ago, wouldn't it?"
Hungary pointed out. "Then again, kidnapping Austria would be pretty
hassling, so it would be too much trouble, right?"

Prussia gave a small shrug, glancing away. Ever since that night when
Hungary stole the key from Prussia, he wouldn't look at her in the eyes, as if
embarrassed. Hungary couldn't help but admit to herself that she was
unnerved by it.

"I'd do it as many times as you needed it, if you wanted it," Prussia said
stoutheartedly. Hungary felt her cheeks burn and she hungrily cast a glance
at Prussia. He was turned toward the outside, his eyes not really seeing the
trees or the grass stretching out before him. Behind them, fires and lamps
were being lit to illuminate the fort. The outside world was now a black
nothingness; they were a tiny ball of fire in the midst of blackness. There
wasn't even a moon to remind them of the outsiders.

"If this doesn't work," Prussia said, "I could try fighting Austria to win your
land away from him. I wouldn't keep it, of course," he added quickly.

"How do you know it will even work?" Hungary asked quietly. "I might just—
well—I've been with Austria for such a long time. What if my country falls if
I'm separated from him?" She had never considered it before, but she knew
that her survival had some dependency on the empire Austria led. "For all I
know, I could die."

"Do you really think I'd just let you die?" Prussia said skeptically. "My word,
Hungary, you really don't give me that much credit, do you?"

Hungary let herself chuckle. "Well, I have many reasons why, if you're
wondering."

"Psht, I bet they aren't even legitimate," Prussia said stubbornly. Hungary
rolled her eyes and laughed. They were both now facing the inside of the fort,
watching the small lamps being lit in the darkness, not bright enough to
attract any enemies.

"You keep telling yourself that," Hungary smirked.

"Do you hear something?" Prussia said, frowning.

"What?" Hungary asked nervously.

Prussia furrowed his eyebrows. After a moment of not speaking, he shook his
head. "Never mind. It could have just been me."

Hungary nodded, frowning to herself. She hadn't heard anything out of the
ordinary.

"You know, after all this time, we barely had time to talk about what you
wanted to do with the war," Prussia pointed out.

"Oh! Right!" Hungary said anxiously. She felt herself shudder under pressure.
"A-about that….Well, it was hard to actually sit down and talk to you since
most of the time you're so busy…"

"Well. We're here now. Let's go with that," suggested Prussia. "Come down."
He headed towards the stairs that led from the ground to the top of the wall.
He and Hungary hurried down the stairs to the ground level.

"If you do help us out on this, though," said Prussia, "Austria's little empress
wouldn't be too happy about that, would she? I mean, she isn't completely
your leader, but doesn't she have some authority? She might wage war
against you."

"I can defend myself!" Hungary argued. "I may be under Austria's influence,
but that doesn't mean I'm completely defenseless!"

"I'm not saying that you are," Prussia defended. "I'm just pointing out a
possibility. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Why do you have to ask?" Hungary protested.

"I don't want you getting any negative consequences out of this!" Prussia
said. "Why do you want to do this anyway?"

"Because I support you!" Hungary said almost too readily. "I want to get away
from Austria!"

"I thought you didn't mind him back then," Prussia said testily.

"What kind of supplies would you want from us, assuming that you would
agree to my proposal?" Hungary asked hurriedly, casting nervous glances
back at the door. Where was her army? She wasn't sure how much longer she
could keep this up.

"I've enough weapons to last several wars, really," Prussia said. "It's mostly
doctors and medical supplies." He glanced quickly at the direction of his
infirmary before quickening his pace. "I need as much as I can get,
admittedly. I don't want to deny my men any treatment."

"Of course," Hungary said. What was Austria's plan of escape? Now that she
thought of it, he never actually explained his thoughts. "Do you know how
that boy was doing?"

"Hmm?" Prussia replied.

"You know—the young boy we were taking care of when you came back,"
Hungary said, trying to search her memory for a better description. "He was
wounded here and here." She pointed to her temple and her ribs.

"Luther Friedman," Prussia said in a hollow voice.

"Yes, him. I forgot his name," said Hungary.

"He died," Prussia said shortly.

Hungary was dealt a dull blow. She swallowed hard, trying to think of what to
say next. It wasn't much of a shock; she knew from the beginning that he had
little chance of recovery, but it was still a painful ordeal to learn.

"I'm sorry," Hungary muttered.

Prussia didn't respond readily. He walked in silence for a while. Hungary

tentatively reached out to him, but hesitated and drew back, her finger
grazing his arm.

"I made a promise to my men," Prussia said in a strange voice. "I said I'd
bring them back home for at least Christmas. I already broke my promise to
some of my boys. I want to keep it to the rest."
Hungary swallowed hard, her throat tightening. She couldn't help but regret
that she would be the cause of the broken promise. She opened her mouth to
say something, but in an instant, all thoughts of that conversation vanished.

"Herr Prussia!" a voice from above cried. Prussia and Hungary turned their
head upwards toward the top of the wall where a door guard was waving his
arms frantically to catch their attention.

"What is it?" Prussia shouted.

"There is an army approaching!" the man yelled. "They're about half a league
away!"

"Austria's men?" Prussia demanded fiercely.

"It's hard to say; we can't see them in darkness," the guard admitted.
Hungary's heart trembled with nervousness. Could this finally be the
moment?

"They probably don't seem like they're in the mood for compromise or deals
anymore, right?" Prussia said dryly, tugging on his gloves. "Prepared for
battle?"

"I can't tell the exact number, but there are surely many soldiers," the guard
warned.

"Just my luck," Prussia chuckled. He turned to Hungary, who jumped back in

surprise and anxiousness. Her hand automatically went toward her side
toward her dagger, wildly thinking that Prussia already suspected her.

"You stay in the fort," Prussia ordered. "Don't get into the fight."

"But—" Hungary protested. She had no time to argue or speak back. The last
word she uttered was completely lost from all memory.

It was instantaneous. Something flew through the air at breakneck speed.

Glass shattered behind them and suddenly the air grew unbearably hot.
Hungary spun around to see what had happened but Prussia pushed her out
of harm's way as great balls of fire hurtled toward them. They both crashed
onto the walls of the fort, disoriented and confused. The night sky was alight
with Hell's fire as the explosion stretched out its burning fingers and curled
around buildings and men, setting them on fire. Sparks and flames flew over
their heads like furious birds.

The sound did not reach Hungary or Prussia until it was too late. The
explosion hit them with as much force as thousands of bullets piercing them
straight in the ear. The fire roared and spat as it hungrily fed on the men
caught in its clutches.
"What happened?" Hungary screamed. "What happened?"

Prussia pushed himself off the wall and ran toward the chaos. His eyes
seemed to grow more scarlet as it drank in the coldhearted sanguine flames.
Hungary scrambled toward him, her heartbeats constricted with shock.

"The spare gunpowder supply!" Prussia shouted. "Somebody set them all
off!" He turned to his men and shouted orders in German before rushing
toward the flames.

"What are you doing?" Hungary cried.

"My men are caught in that fire!" Prussia yelled over his shoulder. "I'm not
just going to let them burn to death!"

Prussia pushed Hungary back against the wall to keep her away from the
flames before returning toward the edge of the fire. Men all around them
were shouting and trying to squelch the flames with wet sacks. Others tried
to shovel soil to strangle the fire. No one could remember the approaching
army.

"How did this happen?" Prussia yelled, his face paling with both anger and
horror.

"Consider it a parting gift to remember me by."

The loud voice brought chills down Hungary's spine. She saw Prussia's eyes
widen, recognizing the voice immediately, before spinning around toward the
heavy doors. There, standing on the top of the walls that protected the fort,
was Austria, clad in a Prussian military uniform. In the midst of all the chaos
that he had instigated, he was able to sneak up unnoticed.

Prussia's eyes widened at first before glinting with absolute anger. It was as if
embers from the fire had flew into his eyes and settled in his irises.

"Austria!" Prussia exclaimed, his voice strangled.

Austria kicked one of the cannons to swerve it toward the inside of the fort.
Before Prussia could say anything else, Austria shot the cannon towards him.
The projectile sped through the air and Prussia barely had enough time to
dive out of the way before it bore itself into the wall of the repair station,
blasting a giant hole through the stone. Hungary felt herself be torn apart.
Part of her wanted to rush up the stairs to Austria and escape this fort with
him, but another reached out to pull Prussia to his feet.

Austria shot the cannon elsewhere, this time toward Prussia's men trying to
put out the fire. They had succeeded in keeping it away from the frantic
horses in the stable. However, the cannonball tore through the crowd,
through wood and stone, splattering blood over the fire and quenching its
ravenous desire for death.

"NO!" Prussia ran toward the men as fast as he could, stumbling when his
ankle gave out on him. Hungary turned toward Austria, her emotions so
confused and jumbled she didn't know what to do. Austria met her eyes and
something seemed to shake him out of his bloodthirsty trance. His eyes
widened at the sight of the destruction he caused. He tore himself away and
unhooked a ring of rope from his belt. He turned to Hungary.

"Come on!" he yelled.

Hungary put her finger to her lips, urging him to stay silent. He cast a very
confused look before she gestured for him to go on. He hesitated, fighting
down the urge to rush down and take Hungary with him. Hungary shook her
head vigorously.

Come on, Austria! she thought frantically to herself. Just go! Don't let your
noble side come and get me!

Finally, Austria reluctantly departed without her. He tied the rope to one of
the posts and slid his way down to the other side. Hungary took in a deep
breath and turned away from the stairs, sprinting toward Prussia.

What are you doing, Hungary?

Even she didn't understand why she stayed behind. What was there left to
do? Austria was saved. She could leave this cursed fort like she had wanted
in the very beginning. She could finally be free of Prussia.

But is that what you want?

What are you going to do, give Prussia a quick goodbye before running off
with his enemy and prisoner?

"Hungary!" Someone grabbed her roughly by the arm and jerked her away
from the fire. She stumbled back and turned to face Prussia. His clothes were
singed and his hands had burns on them. He pushed her toward the stairs
that she had just departed from.

"Don't go in, it's not safe!" Prussia shouted.

"I should say the same for you, you idiot!" yelled Hungary. Prussia opened his
mouth to retort, but another horrible explosion burst behind them as the
flames caught another keg of ammunition on fire. Prussia shoved Hungary
against the wall, guarding her with his body. Hungary squirmed and flailed;
she could see the flash of fiery orange and red over Prussia's shoulder. It was
too close, much too close.
"Where did that bastard go?" Prussia growled as he pushed himself away
from Hungary. He turned toward the stairs and bounded up them. Hungary
followed, her heart sinking with dread at every step.

They reached the top of the stairs. Prussia rushed to the edge, facing the
blackness that surrounded the fort like an inky ocean. The army that had
threatened to attack was so close that it would only take a bullet to reach
them. The night was illuminated by the destruction in the fort, unmasking the
soldiers from their black protection.

"Where did he—?" Prussia stopped immediately. His eyes caught sight of the
uniform on the soldiers that he did not recognize as being Austria's. Hungary
stiffened immediately, her heart racing and on fire. Prussia's eyes darted
toward the army's flag. Red. White. Green.

Realization dawned on Prussia's face, which caused Hungary's blood to freeze

in their veins. He turned sharply to her, his eyes wide and disbelieving.
Hungary set her jaw and put her hand protective at her side. She hoped that
he did not see her shaking.

"You?" Prussia whispered. His fingers brushed against the ring of keys at his
belt, and when he realized one of them was missing, his eyes narrowed.
Hungary sucked in a sharp intake of breath. Was he going to hurt her? Kill
her?

It all happened so fast that she did not have time to think about what she was
doing. Prussia took a step toward her—why he did so, she would never know
—and in one swift motion she swiped the dagger out of her sheath by her
side and plunged it into his chest.

At that very moment, something inside her broke. She stared with horror at
the hilt protruding from Prussia and her hand how doused with his blood and
she screamed. She did not understand, did not realize…Prussia was
stumbling back, blood trickling from his lips and pouring from his chest...she
could not even hear herself over the roar of the fire, the soldiers outside of
the fort, the shouts of men all around her…her hand was still wrapped around
the cold, bloody hilt and it was so close to where his heart was…

Austria—Prussia—Austria—Prussia—

Why was her mind caught in a hurricane? She didn't want to leave—couldn't
just leave him after this. But soldiers had witnessed her turn her dagger
against their country; they were climbing up the stairs, shouting words that
Hungary could not understand. Another explosion shook the walls and Prussia
fell and she didn't see him anymore—had he fallen from the top of the top of
the wall? Down the stairs? She couldn't bring herself to check. The soldiers
were gaining on her—she had to leave now—
Hungary grabbed the rope that Austria had tied to the post. She pulled her
gloves onto her hand and swung herself over the edge of the wall. She took
in a deep breath and pushed herself from the wall, sliding down the rope at
an exhilarating and frightening speed. She could feel her gloves grow warm
from the friction…

Prussia Prussia PRUSSIA PRUSSIA PRUSSIA—

There was no going back. Her feet slammed down on the earth and her
ankles ached at the impact. She spun around and darted back to her men,
her army.

"Austria!" she screamed. "AUSTRIA!"

"Hungary!" Austria broke through the black monotony and wrapped his arms
around her. She sank into him, shaking and gasping for breath. She could feel
Prussia's blood coat her fingers like fire. She could only see the memories
flash in her mind.

Prussia running toward her when she saw him for the first time in years—

Prussia's face glowing when he read West's letter—

Prussia kneeling next to a young wounded soldier, uttering words of

determined comfort—

Prussia in her arms as she hugged him after years of solid hatred—

Prussia soaked in his own blood as she stabbed him in the heart—

She screamed.

CHAPTER 8

"Hungary."

It seemed so odd to hear that voice now. After being locked in a prison for so
long his smooth voice was now brittle. When she and Austria were escorted
far from Prussia's land, they immediately treated his many injuries. Hungary
refused to take off her gloves; she did not want to see her own fingers
stained with Prussia's blood.

Hungary turned wearily to him, her eyes glazed with tiredness. She could not
bring herself to sleep after they had escaped. It seemed unnatural to her
now. How was she able to go to sleep peacefully?

"Are you all right?" Austria asked concernedly. Hungary nodded and looked
away. The horses were trotting slowly enough for conversation, but she
wished that they would quicken their pace. She wanted to go back home and
forget everything that had happened.

"Did you get hurt?" asked Austria.

"No," Hungary said quietly. "I stayed by the wall like you said. The fire didn't
reach me." She regretted the emptiness in her voice. She truly rejoiced that
Austria was safe now, but at what costs? Did it have to reach that point?

"When you were with Prussia," Austria said carefully. "Did he—?"

"He didn't hurt me," Hungary admitted, her heart sinking lower and lower as
she spoke. "I'm fine. I'm—I'm completely all right."

An awkward silence filled in between them, with only the sound of horse
hooves clawing the loam. Austria reached out to take her hand, but she
jerked away immediately. She was afraid that somehow Austria could feel
Prussia's blood on her hands and know what she had done. Austria resignedly
let his hand fall to his side, crestfallen and confused.

"You…probably think I'm monstrous, don't you?" Austria said softly. His face
was filled with genuine sorrow, which made Hungary hurt even more.

"I don't," Hungary said slowly, though her tongue felt heavy as she spoke. "It
was—" She didn't want to say 'necessary' because it was too much. "It got
you out. That was the entire purpose in the first place."

Austria knew Hungary too well. He could sense the hesitation and reluctance
in her, but could not pinpoint any other reason except what he believed was
wariness and anger toward him for his violence.

"I'm the monster, anyway," Hungary murmured. Austria turned confusedly at

her.

"How can you say that?" Austria said perplexedly.

Hungary didn't answer immediately. For some reason she couldn't dare tell
Austria about Prussia. What if he turned away from her after finding out what
act of violence she had done? So many questions were flooding her mind.
Where was Prussia now? Was he dying?

Don't be stupid, Hungary, she scolded herself. Countries can't die as easily as
humans.

But what if another country had murdered—?

"Austria, what would make you hate me?" Hungary blurted out suddenly.
"What?" Austria exclaimed, absolutely bemused. Hungary didn't look at him,
only keeping her eyes forward.

"What would make you hate me?" Hungary repeated, raising her voice.

Austria, still puzzled from Hungary's question, shook his head. "Nothing ever
would."

Hungary gave a weak chuckle in spite of herself. "But I hate myself."

"What are you talking about?" Austria asked, baffled.

Hungary bit her lip, her mouth feeling extremely dry and sticky. "I don't know
how to explain it." There was so much guilt inside her for so many reasons;
for stabbing Prussia after pretending to be allies with him, for growing close
to Austria's enemy, for acting so miserable and cold after freeing Austria and
getting everything she wished—

—for wishing she never left—

"I'm officially in the war now, aren't I?" Hungary said, trying so hard to
change the subject. "Now that everyone knows I'm against—against Prussia."

"Yes," Austria said regretfully. "I wish you didn't have to get into this trouble,
but I can't thank you enough for helping me escape."

"You don't have to," Hungary urged. She didn't want to be reminded, but she
didn't know why. Austria was free from that horrible prison. That was all that
mattered, right? "You heard me before. I wanted to join the war. I wanted to
—" She stopped short, remembering how she promised herself to destroy
Prussia. Her past self must have been thrilled with her.

"I'm just glad you're safe," Hungary blurted out. It was the entire truth. If
anything, she wished that Austria was never kidnapped so she would have
never seen Prussia again. Perhaps all this madness, this guilt and confusion,
could have been avoided. She rubbed her hands uncomfortably, fidgeting in
order to distract herself.

"What happened?" Austria asked concernedly. Hungary gave him a confused

look until he pointed to her hands. She froze; while she was fidgeting with her
hands, her gloves shifted just slightly and revealed the telltale bloodstain on
the heel of her hand. She quickly pulled her gloves down to cover Prussia's
blood.

"Nothing," she said firmly.

"Were you hurt?" inquired Austria anxiously. Hungary swallowed,

apprehension crawling with its spindly legs on her skin.
"It's not my blood," Hungary said calmly. She snuck a glance at Austria, half
hoping that he would understand so that she wouldn't have to explain, so
that he would understand why she was so distraught, but at the same time
she couldn't bear if Austria would discover.

She saw the flicker of sage accepting in Austria's eyes and she knew that
even though he may not understand everything, he just knew her. He was
still her love and heart, after all.

"I've done things I've regretted, Austria," Hungary admitted quietly. "But I—I
shouldn't regret them." She bit her lip, afraid that Austria might take it the
wrong way. She didn't regret coming to save him, but the means she took to
do so…if she had just run away when she had the chance, when Austria was
urging her to climb over the wall with him, she wouldn't have these feelings,
would she? Why, why, why did she stay behind?

"Whatever you did," Austria said slowly, his eyes searching her face as if to
try to find some small bit of truth, "you still won't be any different to me. I
had told you, haven't I? Nothing would ever make me hate you. It's all right."

No it wasn't. It couldn't be. She had given Austria a grateful smile and
remained quiet for the rest of the way home, but inside she was not a bit
relieved.

She could not stop feeling Prussia's warm blood on her hands.

First there was a powerful pain that knocked him off of his feet. He couldn't
breathe; he felt like he was drowning in hot, thick liquid. He couldn't see or
distinguish anything in front of him; all he could see was red, black, and
brown. He tried to stand straight or at least move, but his legs suddenly
became weak and brittle underneath him.

Next there was nothing underneath him. The world shook as if God placed
both hands on the Earth and dribbled it. Before he knew it, he was falling into
Hell. He could feel the heat all around him, Hell's fire reaching out to embrace
him as he plummeted into who knew where—

Then there was nothingness. Absolute nothingness as if everything ceased to

exist. Hell disappeared in thin air. There was no heat, no pain, no comfort, not
even warmth or cold. He couldn't think straight; all his thoughts seemed to
slip from his grasp like water through his fingers. Time must have passed—
could it ever stop turning?

Finally, he could breathe. He could feel the warm air in his throat and it hurt
his chest to inhale. It was warm and soft, but there was still pain paralyzing
him. He felt something inside his fingers until he realized that it was just his
muscles moving. The swirling, unfathomable sounds floating above him
slowly formulated into words with meaning. He could recognize the voices,
but he couldn't tell what was going on. He tried to open his eyes, but they felt
so heavy and he felt so weak.

"…mostly made out of stone, otherwise the entire place would have been
burnt down."

That was France's voice, wasn't it? What was France doing here?

"But it was still really bad," Spain's voice answered worriedly. "Considering
the fact that there was oil poured over the place where the fort was
burned…"

"It's a miracle the whole place wasn't destroyed…"

Prussia finally managed to open his eyes. He winced at the bright light from
the fireplace. He blinked blearily, trying to see clearly. Spain and France were
sitting by the bed, and once they saw that he was awake they immediately
crowded around him.

"Are you okay?" Spain said, frightened. "I was almost sure that you were
dead! I thought you would have died! I mean—"

"Let him breathe, Espagne," France urged. Spain backed away, abashed but
still anxious.

"What's going on?" Prussia mumbled. He tried to sit up, but his chest
suddenly seared with horrible pain and forced him back down onto the bed.
With that jolt of pain came the memories of what had happened, rushing
through his mind like a wave. He felt another bout of horrible pain in him, but
this time it had nothing to do with the stab wound at his chest.

"I'm still at the fort, right?" Prussia said, his voice very soft and barely
audible. He turned tiredly to France and Spain. "What are you two doing
here? I thought—isn't this—?"

"When we heard what happened, we came over here right away," Spain
explained, nodding. "I couldn't believe my eyes when I came here…"

"Why? What's wrong?" Prussia said, expecting the worst as France elbowed
Spain in the rib for his lack of tact. "My men—how are they? Are many hurt?"

"You should relax, Prusse," France said firmly, pulling the sheets over Prussia,
"else you won't heal properly."

Prussia could immediately tell the discomfort in France's voice. He threw the
covers off and pulled himself up, fighting back the horrible pain that wracked
his chest.
"I need to make sure they're all right," Prussia muttered, placing his feet on
the ground. "What happened?"

"We were going to ask you that," Spain said timidly. "All we know is that
Hungary's army battled yours near your fort…"

"What happened? What was the outcome?" Prussia demanded. He couldn't

believe that a battle had occurred and he—he didn't even know where or how
he was during the entire event.

"Your army fought them off, but…it was quite a price," France admitted.
"Many men were lost. The fort is protected still, but so many were killed…"

Prussia could see the questioning in France's eyes. He immediately felt

growing discomfort and pain inside of him that even masked the stab wound
on his chest. He swallowed hard, realizing that he was shaking.

"Where's…Hungary?" asked Spain, watching Prussia warily.

Prussia shuddered and he couldn't look at either Spain or France anymore. All
that trust he had put in Hungary…what of it now? Had it been completely
pointless from the very beginning?

"Gone, isn't she?" Prussia muttered. He shook his head, trying to clear his
mind of her. He didn't want to think of her anymore. He had to move on. "My
soldiers. Where are they all?" He tried to push himself off the bed but he
couldn't even stand anymore. Not one, but now both his legs were petrified
with pain and he fell. France caught him before he could reach the ground
and pushed him back onto the bed.

"Don't even think of walking," France said. "You've broken some ribs and your
leg."

"How the hell did I manage to do that?" Prussia muttered.

"Some of your men said that you fell from the wall," Spain said quietly.
"After…um…"

"I'm supposing that they told you a little more than just that, hm?" Prussia
said flatly. Even if his mind just flitted toward Hungary, he would feel an
unnatural cold and hurt sensation seize him. He tried to remember anything
about her instead of that bloodied, stricken face he had last seen before the
world crashed around him. He tried to see her happy smile, her innocence
before any of this happened, but every time he tried the memory would
distort to that night in the burning fort and everything inside him hurt.

"I—" Spain hesitated, biting back his words just in time. "How—? Um…how
are you feeling? Your heart was almost cut out, practically. The dagger barely
missed."
Prussia could only shake his head. His chest was throbbing with horrible pain,
and he knew too well that it was because of his heart rather than his injury.
He couldn't help but suspect that even if the metal had missed, his heart had
been cut out of his chest already. He tried to ignore the excruciating pain and
stand up in spite of his broken and sprained legs.

"I need to know how my boys are," Prussia said sharply when France tried to
stop him. He balanced himself mostly on his sprained leg since he was so
used to abusing it. "I can't just stay here in this—this—" He looked around to
see where he was. "—my own office while my men are dying after fighting a
battle I wasn't even able to help them in!" How many boys had he let die? If
he had not trusted Hungary…would they still be alive?

"Prusse, you can't even move—" France tried to reason.

"I don't care!" Prussia cried out. He leaned against the chair, trying to stay
upright. "All this time—this whole time I thought—maybe things were
different—" He fell sideways and clung to the back of the chair, his entire
body shaking. His body protested and was wracked with pain.

Everything was falling apart around him and he didn't know how to fix
anything. His men had to die for him and he did nothing to help. He had
trusted Hungary, had been so convinced that she felt the same—what was he
thinking? How could he have been so mistaken? This whole entire time, she
must have not felt anything but disgust and hatred toward him. How could
she feel otherwise when she was only here to save Austria? Austria, though
he had no strength or power to protect anyone including himself, who had no
power or pride in his name, had taken away the only thing Prussia truly
yearned for. Power, control, victory, fear lacing his name…he had them, but
they all no longer mattered anymore.

But that didn't matter, did it?

All those things she had said to him, about caring about him and wanting to
be free…they were all blatant lies, weren't they? The gentle words and
concern she had given him…they only masked burning hatred and anger
toward him. That thought drove a knife sharper and deeper into his chest
than any metal ever could achieve.

What had he done wrong?

France pulled Prussia from the ground and pushed him back onto the bed.
Prussia did not protest or fight back anymore. It was true, wasn't it? He
wouldn't even be able to make it across the room in this state, no matter how
long or hard he tried.

"France?" Prussia said quietly. France almost did not catch it. France glanced
inquiringly at Prussia as he laid him back onto the bed.
"What?" France asked concernedly.

"You were right," Prussia muttered. His hand was reached out toward
nothingness, lingering in the air before he let it drop weakly to his side. "It's
better to be loved than to be feared."

He needn't say more. France knew with a jolt in his heart that Prussia had
been thoroughly, utterly broken down.

CHAPTER 9

October eighteenth, seventeen forty-eight.

England, France, Austria, Spain, Hungary, Prussia were all gathered in

Aachen. The tension between them was as palpable as the wood table they
sat around. Any noise was immediately squelched under the weight of
resentment and hatred. Anger spun a sticky and tangling spider web all
around them.

Austria had a bandage wrapped around the top of his head and his arm in a
sling. He kept his eyes calmly focused on the papers on the table, but he
would sometimes shoot bitter glares at not only Prussia, who sat across from
him, but also England, who stood at the head of the table. England and
France were at each end of the table, and though they had previously
conversed about the contents of the treaty earlier in Breda castle, they still
shot arguments and disagreements at each other constantly. Spain had a
deep half-healed gash on his cheek and walked with a limp, but he seemed to
be the only one at the table who didn't appear completely aggravated by
anyone. He glanced nervously at his allies and at his former enemies, waiting
for the agreement to be made. Prussia's face was completely blank, his eyes
always averted from everyone.

A large and intricate map of Europe was rolled out in front of them on the
table. The unfinished treaty was still piled on the edge of the table near
England as he would sometimes mark something on the map with his goose
feather quill before scribbling onto the papers. Austria set his jaw as the wet
black ink gradually shaved off more and more of his territory and his eyes
glinted with indignation, but he could not protest. He was not in the position
to do so.

"What else was there that we agreed?" England muttered to himself, chewing
on the feathery end of his quill in thought. He was less scathed compared to
the rest of the countries with him.

"Had we not agreed about the Duchy of Modena?" France reminded England,
rapping his gloved fingers on the oak table. There was an infectious wound
on his arm, which he kept tightly bandaged.
Austria jerked involuntarily, and his anger seemed to swell. "How is it," he
said through gritted teeth, "that you two agreed on so many things about my
territory in this private meeting of yours and I had none of my people there to
concur with your plans?"

"Lord Sandwich and France's delegate had worked hard on this agreement,
thank you very much," England said sharply, stabbing the paper with the
sharp end of the quill, letting it spit specs of ink on the treaty. "France and I
eventually agreed that this was the best conclusion for everyone."

Austria held his tongue, but it was evident on his face that he did not find any
of the terms of the treaty to be fair. Hungary already knew that Maria
Theresa was completely livid at the fact that France and England had agreed
the contents of the treaty to end the war on their own. Hungary, on the other
hand, cared less and less about it. All she wanted was it all to be finished.
She was tired of the fighting, the blood, the death, and the blind hatred.

"As for that Asiento contract—" England started to say.

"That agreement was made a long time ago," Spain protested. "Why do you
care about it now, forty years after it was decided upon, and since the war
had nothing to do with it?"

"Promises should be kept no matter how much time has passed," England
retorted, writing it down quickly on the treaty.

Spain pursed his lips, staring reproachfully at England. England cleared his
throat and laid his quill down onto the table. He lifted the treaty to his eyes to
read.

"So—here are the terms that have been agreed upon!" England announced.
"Austria must recognize Friederick II of Prussia's conquest of Silesia."

Hungary thought she could see the crooked smile flicker across Prussia's face
for the briefest moment, but it was gone as soon as Hungary suspected she
had seen it. Austria, sitting beside her, stiffened and fixed his gaze intently
on the paper in England's hands.

"Austria must surrender his Italian territories to Spain."

Spain gave a small and nervous smile, but Austria did not even look at him.
Hungary could feel Austria's growing discomfort and shame radiate from him
as his land was stripped away from him bit by bit, and all he could do was sit
there and take the beating. She quietly reached out a hand and placed hers
on his, squeezing his hand tightly to comfort him. Prussia shifted in his seat
across from them.

"France will withdraw from the Netherlands and give back Madras, India to
England and the Barrier towns to Netherlands," continued England. "In the
meantime, France will regain the Cape Breton Island that was previously lost
in the war."

France seemed to consider this more as a loss than gain, but he at least did
not have to give up his own original French land yet. He nodded gravely, a
little bothered that England benefited from the Indian city France had
occupied.

"Austria will cede the Duchy of Parma, Piacenza, and Guastalia to Spain."

Hungary gripped Austria's hand tighter as Austria resignedly watched his land
be handed to his enemy. Hungary felt a growing indignation toward the
treaty. Austria already had to suffer so much from the war and now he had to
gradually lose the land he had.

"The Duchy of Modena and the Republic of Genoa shall be restored," England
declared. The Italian land that Austria had once conquered was torn away
from him, just like so many other territories.

"Last but not least," England finally said, placing the treaty back onto the
table, "the Asiento contract between Spain and me shall resume."

Spain gave a small shrug and bowed his head in defeated consent. England
dipped the quill in the inkwell and held it up.

"Anyway want to sign first?" he said almost sardonically.

Everyone was silent. After a moment, Austria silently slid his hand out of
Hungary's grasp. He stood from his seat, made his way to the head of the
table, and took the quill. In spite of himself, Austria brandished the quill and
signed his name in dark ink on the treaty, signing off all of his land and hard
work away. He held it up, challenging anyone to step forth and be the second
to sign.

Spain looked around the room before moving toward the treaty and signing it
next. France followed, wincing when his infected arm panged as he moved it.
England scrawled his slanted signature directly underneath and handed the
brown and white quill to Hungary. She hesitated before taking it. There was
no other choice, was there? She dipped the quill into the shallow ink well and
scratched her name onto the treaty. She looked up afterward; the only
person left to sign was Prussia.

Prussia pushed his chair from the edge of the table and stood up. His eyes
still refused to meet Hungary's, and she was afraid what would be in them.
Intense anger? Hatred? She tentatively handed him the quill. He took it and
signed his dark signature onto the paper. The treaty was now official.
"Well, that's all settled now," England said casually, corking the inkwell and
gathering the sheets of the treaty into a neat pile. "If you all would come with
me, we should discuss this with our leaders next…"

"I want a word with you, Hungary," Prussia immediately said.

Hungary froze, her heart jumping. Prussia still did not look up. Austria looked
as if he wanted to protest. While the other countries filed out of the room,
Austria lingered, putting a protective hand on Hungary's shoulder.

"I'd like a word with you alone," Prussia said more firmly, his eyes set on the
map on the table.

"What you can say to her, you can say to me," Austria said mulishly.

"I'll determine that for myself, thank you very much," Prussia said icily. "You
have no authority over what I want to say to whom." He traced his fingers
across the map, smudging the still wet ink.

"If you're going to hurt her—" Austria warned, gripping Hungary's shoulder
tightly.

"Then I'm sure she'd love to have the honors of killing me herself," Prussia
interjected bitterly. "Might I say, Austria, that you're absolutely useless when
it comes to defense, considering how many times you needed someone to
save you." Prussia rubbed his finger and thumb together, smearing off the ink
on the tip of his fingers. "Secondly, are you going to drag your damn ass out
of this door or will I have to do it for you?"

Austria stiffened reproachfully. Hungary turned to him and gently brushed his
hand off her shoulder.

"Just go," she whispered. "He won't hurt me. It'll just be a couple minutes or
so."

Austria did not seem convinced, but he reluctantly consented.

"Be careful," he murmured, squeezing her fingers before heading out the
door. She turned back to Prussia, who was still not facing her. The door shut
behind Austria with a loud thud before engulfing the room in eerie silence.

"You seemed quite confident that I wouldn't hurt you," Prussia said calmly,
his eyes lingering on the grandfather clock by the wall.

Hungary clenched her teeth and stood her ground. Prussia still did not make
a move.
"How does anyone know I won't kill you right here just for my own
enjoyment?" Prussia said, his voice steadily growing colder. "It's possible,
isn't it?"

Hungary bit down on her tongue, refusing to make a sound. She didn't know
whether she should be afraid or angry or feel anything at all. She could only
watch and wait.

"Well, then?" Prussia said sharply. "Do you think I will hurt you? Tell me."

Hungary swallowed hard, feeling the tension in the room choke her. "No."

"Why?" Prussia shot at her immediately.

"Because you have nothing to gain from doing it," Hungary said quietly.

"I have nothing to lose as well," Prussia said flatly. They were silent for
another moment until he spoke again. "Why did you have to do it?"

"Do what?" Hungary asked.

"You know what I'm talking about," Prussia said sharply, affronted that she
did not know immediately. In truth, Hungary really did know what Prussia
meant, but she did not want to answer. She stared down at her hands and
suppressed a wince.

"You know already," she said. "I wanted to save Austria."

"I had already thought about it," Prussia said. "There were countless other
ways you could have planned out Austria's escape. Countless, simpler ways.
So why did you have to—have to say all those lies, do all those things, and
make me convinced that you actually felt—?" Prussia stopped himself. He set
his jaw, his fists clenched. He finally turned to Hungary, his eyes locking into
hers. To her surprise, his eyes were not brimmed with uncontrollable hatred,
but dejection.

"It would have been so much better for the both of us if you didn't say you
wanted to be free, or that you wanted to break from Austria, or seem like you
wanted to help my men," Prussia said, his voice strained. "I was so convinced
that you actually cared about them."

"I did care about them!" Hungary protested, her heart panging at the
memory.

"You still say that after you helped many of them burn to death?" Prussia
argued indignantly.

Hungary wanted to cry out that she had not thought of burning the entire fort
during Austria's escape, but remembered that it was she who informed
Austria about the spare gunpowder. She had her hand in it, whether she liked
it or not.

"My loyalties are to my men, Austria and Maria Theresa," Hungary protested.
"I didn't like or desire hurting your men at all, but my duties called me." It felt
ugly to say it, but it was the truth. Loyalties stood on a narrow staircase that
could only be climbed one at a time.

"I understood that about you perfectly, thank you very much," Prussia said
wryly. "I won't berate you for freeing Austria from my prison. Not today, at
least. I just want to know why—" He hesitated for a short second, as if afraid
she would give him an answer he would not like. "—you had to lie to me so
much." He shook his head, trying to formulate words while keeping his proud
composure. Telling her what he really felt and thought would be revealing too
many weaknesses, something he could no longer trust her with anymore.

"You knew, didn't you?" Prussia said. "How much I had trusted you at that
time? You already knew that, didn't you?"

Hungary closed her eyes, trying to bear through Prussia's words with strong
indifference. Inside, her heart felt like it was being blown apart. She wanted
her guilt and her pain, both their pain to just end.

"You shouldn't have ever trusted me," Hungary said quietly. "I don't even
understand why you did, after I was with Austria."

Hate me, she thought.

Positively, utterly hate me.

So nothing I will do to you will hurt you as much as that.

Because it was of Hungary's previous hatred toward Prussia which softened

away into compassion toward him (It couldn't be love it was never love was
it?) that made everything that had happened and everything that he said and
felt about her now hurt her more than anything else before.

If it was just complete hatred, if there was no hope, wouldn't all pain be
dulled?

"Because that didn't matter to me at that time," Prussia said, his voice
hollow. "I didn't trust you because of your political or international views at
all. I trusted you because I—" He stopped himself short, and his face grew
slightly paler. They both knew what he would have said. It made Hungary's
heart drop like a heavy stone.

"I'm sorry," Hungary whispered, but she was so soft that she doubted Prussia
could hear her. "But I love Austria."
Prussia closed his eyes, his face unreadable. Hungary swallowed, the inside
of her mouth tasting sick and bitter. The words she just heard herself say
sounded empty, as if it weren't a valid answer. How could she answer?

"I know," Prussia said softly. He opened his eyes again. They were steely and
dangerous. "Then you can be quite honest with him, can't you? Do me a favor
and tell Austria that his prison guard friend, Alois Ostermann, was killed by
your soldiers."

Before she could react, Prussia pulled out a long and silver knife from his
navy jacket, and for a moment Hungary wildly thought he really would stab
her. She drew back immediately before Prussia drove the dagger down onto
the table, right through the map.

"I thought you would like your knife back," said Prussia, his eyes cold and
unrecognizable. He brushed past her silently; she spun around and watched
him walk away, her tongue heavy with so many words she wanted to say but
hesitated a second too long.

"Wait," she whispered. She couldn't move; her muscles felt paralyzed, and
she thought that if she moved one inch everything would crash down on her,
if they had not already.

Hungary spun around and grabbed his sleeve. His arm seemed to stiffen, as if
tempted to tear away, but traces of an old affection tied him back. He didn't
turn to face her, but he did not move away.

"I'm sorry," Hungary said. She wondered how any of this made sense; she
was apologizing to the man who had imprisoned and tortured Austria. But she
couldn't bear to let him go. "I never wanted to hurt your men. I never wanted
to lie to you or trick you. Please believe me."

Prussia didn't make a sound. His head was bowed and his entire body was
completely still. Hungary swallowed, her throat hurting. She let herself grip
tighter on his arm, a tingling chill rushing through her spine as she did so.

"Prussia—" Before Hungary could say another word, Prussia pulled his arm
away from her grasp. With his head still kept low, he hurried out of the room
without uttering a single sound. Hungary didn't even have time to follow him
before he slipped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Hungary stood in the emptiness, completely alone. Frustration, regret, fear,

indignation, every single emotion nameable was bottling inside of her,
threatening to burst. She wanted to scream or cry or rage, but all the energy
in her had suddenly sapped away, leaving her desolate and drained.

Please come back.

She knew he would not.

She turned to the table where Prussia had lodged her knife in. It had cut
cleanly through the map of Europe, precisely through Königsberg. She
hesitated before reaching out and taking hold of the hilt. She winced; he had
not taken the liberty to thoroughly clean his own blood off the knife.

Please don't hate me.

It was too late to regret. Even if Prussia hating her would end all the pain
between them, even if it meant saving the world, she would now rather be
destroyed than have him hate her.

But it didn't matter what she wanted anymore, because it wouldn't change
anything.

Prussia hated her now.

With empty and hopeless defeat, she pulled the knife out of Prussia's heart.