DISCLAIMER: Still don't own Hetalia...

Chapter Ten: Reflection

Two months ago, Antonio would never have believed he'd be in this position.

Heck, two days ago the same theory would apply.

But the fact of the matter was that this was really happening; he was escaping his own country, whose royal family had just been ambushed by mafia men, with his parlour maid (of all people!). He wasn't quite sure how this had happened, and he was sure he'd probably never know exactly how it had happened, but it was happening, and he didn't like it at all.

First of all, he hadn't known anything! All this time, feeling as though people were hiding things from him and there really had been something going on? He wouldn't have believed it, however, if the identity of his attacker hadn't been revealed. That was another point: Lovino, his lover, the one who he'd been so close to and had been together with for what felt like years, took part in the attack! And he hadn't said a word. Antonio couldn't understand why; did the Italian not trust him, or was there something deeper going on beyond the attack?

Perhaps everything that had happened recently was linked to this. A guard was attacked as someone attempted to break in to the palace, someone had tried to kill him at the festival, and the fiasco at the palace; and perhaps it was even worth wondering whether the assassination attempt which brought him aboard the Pomodoro was a part of this too. There were so many possibilities, so many events that had taken place which seemed so similar. Could it all possibly be linked? If so, who could be behind it?

Thinking about the one person he knew had been involved in at least two of these events, Antonio gulped. He didn't want to consider it, but had Lovino been plotting against him, lying to him this whole time?

No, he couldn't be, he thought. Nobody would fake being in love like he was with me, especially not Lovino, right? He was such an introverted person, he would never pretend to love someone if there was a chance he could fall in real love with the person and inevitably end up hurt, right?

These theories of Antonio's floated through his mind for the next few days as he and Kat travelled cross-country. They hitched rides on the backs of merchants' wagons and slept under bridges or in abandoned buildings at night, trying their best to get away without being caught by whoever could be tailing them. Luckily they had some spare change, so when they were in Spain they could buy a few things to eat and drink as they ran. However, after a few days they had reached France, and the escape was becoming harder to manage.

France didn't use the same currency as Spain for a start, and the pair didn't have much money left anyway. Only Antonio could speak any French, but it was generally simple terms and ruder words, neither of which would help when asking to hitch a ride. So the pair was forced to run along with more rests throughout the days (unless they were able to strike lucky and find someone who spoke English or Spanish who could offer them a ride). When they became hungry or thirsty, they stole from market stalls or merchant wagons, putting them in potentially more trouble than they had been in the first place (seeing as how they had now stolen and they were being chased by the mafia).

One night, they were in a small town not too far from Paris. They were tired from all of the travelling they'd done that day - about 78 kilometres of France had been walked that day, taking them just under fifteen hours of blistering feet and grumbling stomachs. When they finally reached the town and found a small, abandoned building, they could have danced in celebration - if only their feet had not felt like they were about to fall off.

The building was old and run-down, sitting on the perimeter of the town, away from most other buildings. It was only a regular sized building, but the darkness surrounding it made it seem as though it loomed over the pair, leaving them with second thoughts about spending their night here. However, they had nowhere else to go, so they forced themselves into the slowly-deteriorating building.

Inside it was as dark and cold as the outside, with a something draft emanating from an unknown source. Cobwebs covered most of the furniture, which was in just as bad a condition as the house itself. It wasn't exactly a first-class inn, but it was all they had so they'd have to make do.

Antonio was eventually able to find a candle on one of the shelves, and matchsticks came later from the kitchen after Kat's search for edible food (of which they found none). It took a while, as many things were in that evening, but soon they were on the lounge chair in what could have been the lounge room, covered in moth-eaten blankets but more comfortable than they would have been in the upstairs bed, whose mattress was laden with bugs and seemed far too unsanitary for them to sleep on. On the table in front of them sat their dimly flickering candle, which provided enough warmth to heat the table around it, but was sadly unable to reach the pair on the chair.

They chatted for a short while, though it was mostly Antonio trying to make conversation whilst Kat sat quietly, shivering despite the blankets and the candle. He tried to take their minds off of the house they sat in, trying to imagine they were in a warm home in the height of winter in front of a blazing fire, or in a cold country in a summer where the warmth was still minimal. He may not have helped Kat's unsettled-ness, but at least she was able to fall asleep eventually. When that happened, Antonio was able to relax and let himself fall asleep too.

Author's Notes: Woo! Things are getting interesting!

Sorry for the kinda filler-chapter though "OTL Just developing Antonio's thoughts and some character/plot points here.

Your reactions though oh my god I just-

But don't worry, everything will be explained soon~ uwu

Thank you as usual for everything! You are all really awesome!

See ya on Sunday!

~Random