He wept off the sweat covering his forehead while advancing in the dark. It was extremely late at night, around midnight, he thought, he wasn't fully sure about it, but he knew he should be already lying in his bed, waiting for his sister to treat his wounds. Once more, he had been injured during his conquers, once more he had reached a new, unexplored territory needing civilization and had fought in order to spread his domination around. Such memories were twisting and warping inside his head whereas he was dragging his steps towards his mansion. None seemed to notice his return, nobody appeared to welcome him back, and he suddenly felt horribly lonely, in spite of his grandness. All streets, from the widest lane till the narrowest avenue, were silent, almost dead in that foggy obscurity which surrounded each corner, each curb, each roof. After leaving, he had been reminiscing about his folks, about his country, about his skies, he had expected his compatriots to stand along the quay the whole time long, awaiting their master. He was certain they would congratulate him for broadening their empire and widening their language, offering bunts of flowers, chocolate baskets, beer bottles and more. On the contrary, his wishes had been betrayed: no man was looking for him or eagerly seeking his hand for shaking it; no woman was trying to embrace him or pouring joyful tears to celebrate his heading back home; no kid was pointing at him in admiration or tearing his cloak to receive a flick on the right shoulder. He sighed in disappointment.
Indeed, his latest crusade in South Africa had been extremely strength-stealing. From the very initial disembark the savages seemed to dislike Netherlands and his manners, so much that they didn't allow him to encounter their chief as he had estimated. He absolutely wanted to get in touch with her for courting her, forcing her into bed and finally subdue her – his usual technique, the one he had applied in Suriname, in Indonesia, in the Antilles and in every other place he had visited – in order to dispose of her goods, her handwork, her raw materials. But this one time, his plan hadn't been fulfilled. In front of such a stark hostility, his seamen were compelled to get forearmed and exterminate a good part of the local population. The strife last several years and caused him considerable damages, both in terms of resources and of money, but at the end the queen gave up and handed her country. However, despite his victory, Jasper understood his newest score would need to be repopulated as soon as possible, otherwise it wouldn't bring any profits; hence, he cast off half of his sailors in there, urging them to work hard and to develop a new, Netherlands-imprinted economic system.
"Brother!"
In the meantime, without even realizing it, he had reached his destination. He abandoned his remembering as soon as he heard the familiar voice calling him. His sister, Belgium, was already standing on the doorstep, waving her left hand for catching his attention, her bright eyes shining with relief. Her teeth were slightly chattering, as she was wearing her violet nightdress only.
"Anneke! Are you nuts? What are you doing outside? Have you been waiting for me the whole night long?"
"Jazeker! You're my brother after all, I was looking forward to your homecoming!"
"You shouldn't have, you're surely going to get a cold now…"
She ignored his reproaching and hugged him delightfully. "I've been missing you, Jasper!"
"Ouch! Don't grab me that hefty, alsjeblieft…"
Belgium drew back and looked high at him with a clearly teasing glance. "Oh, I didn't know you are such a sissy! If that's the outcome of your travels, well…"
She aborted her own speech when she remarked her fingers were dirty with blood. Her eyes popped out with fear and she couldn't add anything more than a murmured 'what the heck…?'
Jasper grinned, trying to take it ironically. "Yeah, I haven't mentioned it yet, but in South Africa I had some troubles… my traditional strategy wasn't effective…"
"What are you babbling about? You're bleeding! Come in, you need to be cured!"
"Oh, my, don't be panicking like that, Anneke! It's alright… luckily I still had a bunch of those good herbs…"
"Jasper!", his sister scolded him vigorously. "I had begged you not to smoke grass anymore!"
He shook his head, chuckling. "Zustertje, how could I resist lacking of my best friend? That's where I grasp my energies from. I couldn't have born all the pain."
Belgium groaned and resigned. "Let's move in, I'm disinfecting your lesions."
Netherlands nodded and smiled at her as gently as he could. He didn't want to show her how aching it was. Being the eldest, he tried his best to hide his weaknesses in order not to make her worry. She was the only relative he cared about, although she had fallen in love with their ancient tyrant, Antonio, and even if he blamed her for this, he could have never hated his sweet sister. He smacked Anneke on her right cheek and entered the house, gritting his teeth due to the soreness. He instantly walked into his bedroom and laid himself softly on the mattress, breathing deeply.
"Jeez, I guess the painkilling effect's gradually fading…"
The young woman came back holding a bowl full of sterilized water and a washcloth. She put them onto his bedside table and bent over him in order to undress his body as slowly as she was able to. After depositing his scarf and his shirt into the washing basket, she started removing the temporary plasters and bandages her brother had used to stop the hemorrhage. Even though her touch was delicate, Netherlands moaned loudly.
"I'm sorry, brother… but it's necessary…", she mourned with tears in her eyes.
"I know, do it.", he answered categorically, panting.
The Belgian spent the following hour plugging his injuries and secretly praying God to help him recover. She noticed he had already fallen asleep, probably because of the physical stress he had been obliged to face and of the amount of blood he had lost. Caressing his ash-blond hair, Anneke set a warm patchwork on his upper body, attempting, in this way, to keep his body temperature stable.
"Hopefully you're going to be fine, broertje.", she whispered, switching the lights off.
She slid out, closing the wooden door as cautiously as possible behind her.
She hadn't had enough courage to tell him concerning the two sealed letters on his desk. He would have discovered the terrible news the following day.
