The sound of patent-leather shoes rang through the halls, belonging to solemn residence of Austria-Hungary union. The nation, concretely a female, hazel waterfall of her hair tied back in a low ponytail, with a flower bloom or two, stopped before the white, elegant door. On a small golden doorplate stood a name, carved in delicate cursive.

"Erzsébet Héderváry"

The girl hesitated to place her hand on the wooden surface and knock. She knew that Ms Hungary, the nation who held her upon control, was tired and depressed from all of the things that happened, and ended, recently. She was badly injured in the Great War, not to mention she was forced to capitulate as well, when the Central Forces saw that they will not be victorious in this bloody argument...

'I've heard her crying last night... And the night before...' The girl thought sadly. Erzsébet was depressed as well. Both her and Roderich knew that, when the war ends, and if they lose, that they will be dissolved and separated. And the all nations they were ruling upon will become independent, and walk their ways out, to be recognised.

The Hungarian feared that the most. Despite the ways she treated the other nations, they were always like children to her.

She did love them, but not many of them truly saw that.

The girl before the doors, Milica, also known as Vojvodina, was one of those rare ones. She could never say that the couple didn't take care of her and the others. Yet, the girl longed for freedom, as well the reunion with her brother, Serbia, who felt the same towards her, although he was the independent one.

A small, yet long enough to be heard sob, coming from the inside of the room, drew Milica out of her deep thinkings. She quickly knocked on the door, and got a blunt sound of something being dropped down, followed by breaking glass, in response. She heard a swear or two, then footsteps coming nearer to the door, and the detestable creak when they opened.

"Ah, Vajdaság, it's you" A soft, yet voice full of tiredness, welcomed Milica. Erzsébet's emerald eyes were framed with circles a bit darker than her skin was. Two or three small teardrops were still on her long, black lashes.

'She hasn't slept in days... And she did cry recently' Milica thought to herself, as she spoke a word of greeting to the Hungarian, making a small curtsey. She also noticed that the woman before her was holding an old framed photo, but the glass shattered, some pieces missing, some gathered in her hand, a small stream of blood coming from beneath them.

"Mađarska... You're... You're hurt" Milica's eyes widened at the sight of the crimson liquid. She never liked seeing blood. But what she didn't like more was how Hungary reacted about it.

"I am? Oh, I am indeed... It's just a cut, relax. I've been through much worse." Erzsébet's lips stretched meekly, forming a rather tiny smile for Milica's likings. A fake one.

"Don't respond like that! Bandage yourself up already! And if you're not going to do it yourself, then I'll be the one who does!" Both of the females were surprised by the attitude of the younger one. The commanding tone was completely unintentional. Without any thinking before, Milica was already in the chamber, searching for the bandage, then wrapping it around Erzsébet's palm. She spotted her own face in the photograph, realising that it was from the times when she and her siblings under Austria-Hungary were young.

"You're still keeping this old thing... I thought it was lost long ago, the photo"

"Igen, of course I am. It brings so much memories" The Hungarian responded, her eyes softening a bit, before she noticed that the paper was teared between her and the Austrian man, who was sitting on her right.

"But it's not going to last very long" She held the photo carefully, observing it closely, something in her throat becoming heavier, as a small tear formed in the corner of her eye. "Roderich is going to kill me"

Milica decided to break the awkward, discomforting silence afterwards.

"Speaking of Herr Edelstein..."

"Yes?"

"He's asked me to say that he wants you to attend the family meeting . The urgent one"

So it began. The event Hungary feared the most. These meetings were never smelling good. She stepped out of her room, adjusting her outfit, and the two of them went through the halls, in the direction of the grand meeting room, the room used mostly during the war times, and after-war times, like at this very moment.

They both noticed that a faint noice in the background became stronger and stronger as they were coming closer. The voices were mixed and not recognisable by each-other. As they opened the double doors, they noticed an angry looking Croatian, arguing with dark-haired Austrian across the long, white, polished table. The blonde Slovene was taking his place at the Croat's side, nearly knocking off an expensive-looking flower vase from its place. The Czech and Slovakian were at the same side as well, deep in the discussion, half with each other, half supportable of the Croatian's biased speech.

"Pa ne može to tako!" Dražen, the Croat, slammed his hand at the polished surface, causing the gentle Slovene to jump in his seat. Milica coughed to let them acknowledge her and Erzsébet's presence.

The Austrian shot an annoyed glare at Dražen, before turning to the females who came in.

"Servus. It's a pleasure to see you here." He greeted, a firm smile on his face. "We didn't mean to start without you, but as you can see, this hotheaded Slav couldn't resist to start an argument. Have a seat, bitte."