Romano remembers, the first time he saw Spain out in the battle field with his ax held high and covered in blood. The battle had already been won, but he could still see the blood lust in the Spaniard's eyes.
He'll be lying if he said it didn't make him want to piss himself, in fact, he nearly did.
In that moment, he didn't quite feel safe anymore. Before him was an empire, something that was far stronger than what he was. If Spain wanted to, he could destroy him, erase his existence as a country.
The thought shook him; all he wanted to do was run. But Spain noticed him and beckoned him forward.
He bowed his head, shaking it as he gripped onto the hem of his shirt. His feet felt heavy, even if he wanted to run, he couldn't make his body move.
There was a long silence between them before he heard footsteps near him and his body tensed. Romano saw red before him, red splattered on white.
"Don't be afraid, niño, I won't hurt you. Why don't you run ahead and tell the maids to prepare something for us? Yes?"
The voice was gentle, kind, compare to everything around them. The owner made no attempt to touch him
He forced himself to look up at the other's face and found that the Spaniard's eyes had softened with a smile. There was something about that expression that made him relaxed his body and with a nod, he ran off to do as the Spaniard asked, heart beating fast.
It was true that he was still afraid of Spain but something told him that could rest his mind of his previous thoughts.