I'm back, with a complex alternate universe! This is set in the same AU as 'Live a Little' and 'Summers and Francis', so I would recommend reading those along with this, especially 'Live a Little', to get more of a feel for the AU.

The nations are all now Kings, Queens, Lords and Ladies on a huge mass of land which is split into five kingdoms: The Britannic Kingdom, with England, America and Canada, the Kingdom of Fire and Ice, with the Nordics, The Eastern Kingdom, with the Asians, The Long-Winter Kingdom, with Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, the Baltics and Poland, and the Great Kingdom, which is basically the other European nations which haven't already been mentioned.

The Great Kingdom is the most complicated because it is split between a group of monarchs. Each part is named for the real nation it represents, so for example, King Ludwig is the ruler of Deutschland. King Francis, one of the main characters, rules the territory France, but it is pronounced Fronce, as they say it in French.

I'm uploading this now so that I can get feedback, specifically if you want me to continue this story - I want to know if you're enjoying it! Any feedback at al is appreciated. It's a short prologue, I know. I might upload the first chapter too, to give you a feel for the rest of the story... Now, on with 'Breaking Apart'!


Breaking Apart


The Eastern Kingdom, mid-Autumn

His eyes glowed in the ethereal light of the sunset.

Two adolescents walked in the vast, ornate gardens of the Palace in the Eastern Kingdom. The air was warm with a slight, refreshing breeze. His green military school uniform was pressed, the buttons polished, and the boots shining. Her richly embroidered cheongsam glinted red and gold, and her tiny flowerpot soled shoes added an extra inch to her delicate stature.

Sixteen-year-old Princess Chun-Yan knew what Prince Arthur wanted, and he knew that she knew. His father and brood of siblings had stayed at her family's Grand Palace for the past four months, and yet she hardly knew him.

That obviously didn't matter to him.

They walked in silence. Their fathers trusted them alone together now. The Emperor knew that Chun-Yan was a sensible girl, and Arthur had proved himself to be impeccably mannered and courteous.

"Do you know why I was sent to military school?" Arthur suddenly asked. Chun-Yan looked over to him, and saw those glimmering eyes.
"Why were you sent to military school?" she asked, looking away again. She was a dignified young woman.
"I can put on a show for my father," Arthur smirked, "but truly I am rather… promiscuous."
"I do not understand." It was only partly a lie – she truly didn't know what the word meant, but she understood perfectly his tone of voice and his expression.

"Oh, I think you do."
He had her caught, and she was so inexplicably attracted to him that she had no way of escaping.
"I leave in three days. This may be our only chance."

She led him to a small stone pavilion. He took down her hair and stroked her face and lifted her higher than she had ever been.


The Long-Winter Kingdom, early winter

"Vanya!"

Prince Ivan's head jerked up from the book he was reading. He was sitting in a large, plush armchair beside a roaring fire in the dimly lit library. His older sister, Princess Yekaterina – known as Katyusha or Katya to her siblings – stood in the doorway. The firelight flickered against her plain blue gown and her pale hair. Tears that so often shimmered in her watery blue eyes were openly spilling down her plump, flushed cheeks. The platinum-haired boy could see that his sister was shaking.

"Katya? What is wrong?" he exclaimed, jumping up. His book fell to the floor with a clatter, but he paid it no mind; he ran to his older sister. She collapsed into his arms and sobbed.
"Father is dead," she choked, burying his face in the shoulder of his thick, warm winter coat.

Ivan froze. Their father. The stern general and king, who ruled his kingdom and his children with an iron fist. The cruel man who ridiculed Yekaterina for her simplicity, who ignored Natalya to the point of barely acknowledging her existence, and who enjoyed heaping pressure on Ivan's young shoulders. He was gone.

"W-W-What does this –"
He was interrupted by his father's four most trusted advisors entering the room. They eyed the tall fourteen-year-old with a critical gaze which made Ivan's stomach go cold. A slender girl of eleven peered out from behind one of them. As soon as she saw Ivan, she ran at him and clung to him.
"Big brother," she whispered, clutching his arm at the crook of his elbow. His arms around his weeping sisters, Ivan looked at the advisors.

"What is going to happen now?" he asked, steadying his voice. I am confident. I am brave. All four men, proud lords and commanders, glanced at each other before reluctantly sinking to their knees.
"Your Majesty," they intoned as one.

Ivan felt weak. He was… the king?


The Great Kingdom, New Year

It was over. Six months of battle between the lands of France and Deutschland, nicknamed 'the Autumn War',were finished. The Deutsch Army had gathered all of its soldiers for a massiveraid that had completely decimated the Français troops. France had been forced to give up so much land, but the army was nowhere near ready to get it back.

The New Year had been celebrated with the bitterness of being on the losing side.

Prince Francis walked through the torch-lit stone hallways more purposefully than he had ever walked before. His delicate, expensive shoes made nearly no sound on the cold stone floor. His face, so usually graced with a carefree smile, was set with a determined expression. A small, deep cut was etched into the skin on his high forehead.

He was heading to his father's study.

King Rodel was broad-shouldered and muscular, with chin length blond hair and a short beard. He did share some features with his fifteen-year-old son, but where Rodel was manly, Francis was… not as manly. Rodel did love his son, but he wished that the boy would stop floating around and take an interest in his country. Francis was clever enough to be a General, but he just didn't care for it.

So imagine the King's surprise when Francis entered his study with a much stronger gait, sat down at the desk and asked him to explain what the loss of the war would mean for France.

"Do you see this map?" Rodel gestured to a large map of France that hung on the wall. "This is what France looked like two days ago."
The King took a pen from in front of Francis, dipped it in a pot of ink, and marched angrily over to the map.

He slashed across the paper kingdom with an angry grunt, ripping the territory in two down the middle. He turned back to his shocked son, anger marring his chiselled features.
"See what they have done to our land!" he shouted, brandishing the pen. Ink splattered across the desk. Francis stood up.
"How can they do that?" he asked indignantly, striding over to the map. "They have cut France in half! They have no right to do that!" The prince ran his smooth, soft finger along the new inky border that separated France and used-to-be-France. His finger left the page with a smudged black mark marring the perfect creamy flesh.

"What do we do, Father?" Francis had a vengeful fire in his eyes that Rodel had never seen before. "How do we get our land back and restore honour to France?" His words were imbued with a rich, deep anger.

"We must wait, son," replied the King, astounded. He was shocked and proud that that Francis had turned over such a new leaf. All his prayers had been answered! "Well done, boy," he said gruffly, giving his son a hearty clap on the back. "It's about time you used your brains for the good of the land." His words had an undercurrent of sarcasm to them.

"Yes, we must wait." Francis was still staring at the ruined map. "We must wait until our army is the most powerful in the Kingdom. Then we will invade, and take back what is rightfully ours."

A slightly maniacal smile twitched on the edges of his adolescent lips. He would wait, and he would invade, and he would take back what was rightfully his.


Please review, no matter what you think. Like it, offering constructive criticism, whatever, just please tell me so that I know whether to continue!