Joana put her beauty-case on her desk, tinkering inside it, looking for the eye-shadows casket. Once found and opened it, she stared busily at the different colors, searching among them the right shading which would match up with her robe. At the very end she opted for combining red and orange, toning down the first one with the second. She took up the little brush and started applying the eye-shadow on her eyelid, with extreme slowness. She grimaced face to an unsatisfying result and, after removing the powder, she tried a second time, successfully.

"Gosh, I should warn my cooks, they need to prepare the dinner… I cannot!"

She rushed downstairs, but didn't notice her sister poking out of her room; Brazil didn't oversee her make-up and understood something was going on. Suddenly, as soon as she realized Portugal's new look probably wasn't casual, a virulent feeling stormed through her body, a feeling she had never suffered from: jealousy. The image of her sister being kissed by her Netherlands popped up in her mind, irritating her. She wouldn't sit on her hands, she needed a project. She vanished, slamming the door behind her.

"Okay, that's disposed.", the Portuguese woman talked to herself, coming back into her bedroom.

She got leisurely naked, abandoning her trousers, her boots and her shirt on the floor. After getting closer to the mirror, she watched her body for a few minutes. She was surprised at remarking that, after all, she wasn't as ugly as she had always reputed; sure, her biceps and quadriceps weren't as harmonic as other women's due to her constant training, though her general appearance was good. Smiling, her thoughts flew back to Jasper and his body and she unexpectedly wondered how their two physiques would unite. Blushing, she took her bodice and put it on; how weird, she thought, in spite of its skinniness it wasn't that uncomfortable; on the contrary, her breasts was finely propped up. She finally wore on her dress.

"Not bad…", she commented. "I just need high-heels shoes and some jewelry…"

She grasped the only pair of high-heels shoes she had kept and put her feet in. It was incredibly hard to walk with these, especially after decades of using boots exclusively. She stepped leftwards and rightwards in order to practice a bit and to find her equilibrium. At the very end, she combed her hair, perfumed her shoulders and her neck, and slipped her left hand into her favorite bracelet.

"I'm ready.", Joana stated. "And hopefully attractive enough for him…"

Jasper had been called by Portugal's servers and was already sitting in the refectory. Brazil was at his side, her hair gathered up in a braid and wearing a very short skirt. He had no suspicion concerning such a change, he even didn't waste any time staring at her. But, as soon as the house-owner entered, he couldn't avoid gaping: she was marvelous. He hadn't expected her to listen to his wish, he had believed she wouldn't fancy herself up just for his pleasure. Her surprise filled him with joy, and excitement, of course. Holland didn't taste his meal at all, he was yearning for the up-coming night, so much that his eyes were set on his love the whole time long.

"Netherlands!", Brazil cried suddenly out, after everyone had eaten. "I'd like to show you something!"

He turned perplex to her. "Show me something? What?"

"Oh, please, please! It's important!", she flashed up to him and started gripping his vest.

"Where is that?", he sighed.

"In my bedroom! Don't worry, it won't take long!"

Jasper stood up and glanced lustfully at Portugal. "…wait for me, Jo."

This last one turned red. "N-No problem, I will."

The Brazilian girl grabbed the Dutchman on his right wrist and dragged him the entire way to her room. She jostled him inside and shut the door. Then, she sat on her bed, staring at him with a licentious look and crossing her legs several times. He looked back puzzled at her.

"So what? Where's the stuff?"

"Why are you in such a hurry?", she asked with a seducing voice, pulling slightly down the collar of her shirt.

He crossed impatiently his arms. "I don't wanna play with you, sugar. Show me whatever you wish and then let me out."

"Okay, then.", she groaned, stretching herself to the other part of the bed, where her desk was. "I distillated my favorite beverage this afternoon and I'd like you to give me your sincere opinion about it.", she held him a glass out.

"Yeah, I could give it a try.", he took the drink in his hand and, after looking at the infusion, he swallowed it down. "Mmm, it has an unusual taste, but I admit it's not bad at all."

"It stems from the berries of my country", she explained, exposing her breast as much as possible. "Come on, get yourself one glass more, it won't endamage you."

"All right, but not more than one.", he said, serving himself. "It's quite strong."

"Oh, it's no tragedy if you get boozed, is it? Or shall I believe you dislike it?", she squealed.

"I've just told you it tastes fine.", he repeated, going on drinking.

Two, three, four, five glasses. Or even some more? Jasper had forgot to count them. He needed to sit on Brazil's bed, because he couldn't stand anymore; his sight had turned a little dim and he was getting a slight headache. He felt like he couldn't control his own actions any longer. The girl obviously profited of his condition and came closer to him, holding his hand and snuggling up to him. Her task was achieved.

"Netherlands…", she whispered, caressing his neck. "You know, I've been reflecting about your words… about boys…"

"Have you?", he laughed. "And?"

"You were right… I'm interested in men.", she pulled her skirt up to its limit.

"Are you referring to me, sweetie?", he grinned.

"Oh, I'd so love to understand what hides behind the word intercourse…", she murmured. "It'd be great If you could help me…", she flirted.

"Oh, Brazil", he replied, looking into her eyes. "Ain't I too old for you?"

"That's it.", she pretended she would be offended and about to stand up. "I knew you would be no good teacher. You're probably afraid of failing…"

Such a provocation couldn't be overheard by Holland, in such a drunken state as he was.

"What?", he spoke. "I never fail with women. Let me show you.", he added, grabbing her back and moving onto her.

"Don't disappoint me…", she moaned.

"I won't…", he said, licking her neck. "But be aware, I won't contain myself…"

Portugal, in the meantime, was gradually getting worried. More than twenty minutes had already passed and she feared something serious could have happened. She loaded the dishwasher up and then stepped towards the stairs. It was extremely painful to proceed with high heels, but she tried to do it as quick as she was able to.

"Aaah!"

That was doubtlessly her sis' voice, Joana realized, she had been hurt! She wore off her shoes, left them on the step and accelerated. Had she fainted? Had she been injured? Had she fallen down? The Portuguese maiden had grown attached to her and wanted her best. As soon as she arrived in front of her door, she opened it wide, panting.

"What's going on, Bra—"

She suspended her sentence and got frozen. Before her eyes there were Netherlands and Brazil, having sex. She was under him, grabbing his back with her nails, completely sweaty. Jasper turned towards the new-come, smirking.

"Oh, Jo", his voice was exalted. "Wanna join us? There's enough place for three…"

She brought her right hand in front of her trembling lips, while some tears began sloping down her cheeks. Everything he had been telling her, everything he had been doing for her, every smile, every favor had been false! She meant nothing to him: he had just wished to possess her for a single night, to use her for his own lust, like he had done with thousands women before. The love story she had been dreaming of was nothing but a mere delusion.

She drew back, quivering. "I—I HATE YOU!", she shouted, leaving the room.

Portugal started sobbing loudly, sheltering herself in her room. Getting on her knees, she hid her face into her hands and went on crying for a long while. Her tongue formulated words without letting her notice it: 'liar', 'cheater', 'asshole', among the many ones. Such a dummy she had been! She had trusted him, although she was conscious of his reputation! She stood up in rage and tore her dress apart, ripping it in rough pieces, before smashing her beauty-case on the floor.

"And Brazil… why has she done this…?", she babbled.

She leaned both hands on her writing desk and closed her eyes for a while, breathing deep. Beyond the walls she was still able to hear the two lovers sighing and wailing with pleasure. She tried to stop her ears with both hands, shaking her head. Banging her fists on her belly, she opened up her eyes again and stared into the large mirror.

"All this make-up… all my preparation… in vain!", she murmured.

She desired to cancel every trace of her weakening. She gazed at her eye-shadow and immediately wished to take it off her face. Her left hand lifted up and rubbed energetically her left eye; unfortunately, she forgot she was still wearing her bracelet.

"Ah!", she shouted, feeling a sudden pain on her eye and closing it.

Some seconds later, Portugal opened it again and remarked she had scratched herself: it was a deep, bleeding cut she had caused herself with her arm ornament. It wouldn't cicatrize that easily, since it was a delicate, always-moving zone… and if it had done, a scar would have remained. The permanent sign she had bent in front of a man. She stiffened her fists in rage and went to bed, without even binding the wound.

It was the hardest night of her life.

Note:

Netherlands' coupling with Brazil in this chapter represents the Dutch invasion of some Brazilian regions during the XVIII century.