Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Alice turned the page and sighed. Alfred was asleep next to her, dozing on her shoulder. She didn't have the heart to wake him up, she knew he wasn't getting enough sleep, not for the job he did at least. The princess debated on suggesting a different job for him to take, although given his noble status he really didn't need a job anyway.
The Britannian glanced back to the page. It showed a photo of an old Americanan royal family she didn't recognize. The book was an Americanan history book. She had hoped in reading it around Alfred, it would spark something. He fell asleep before anything could happen, but she couldn't really blame him.
The princess sighed and shut the book, as it was of no interest to her. She was careful to not move too much so he wouldn't wake, but she began to brush her fingers through his soft hair.
Was it really possible it was him? Was a dead prince sleeping on her shoulder? No.
It was impossible, absolutely impossible. There was no way her Alfred could be that Alfred. These were just coincidences. Who knew, there could be another Alice out there that looked like her. She could be dead.
She shouldn't be debating about this, because it was crazy. Suggesting to the Americana royal family, or even her own parents would be stupid. They'd laugh at her. Maybe she would break their family again, this time with false hope.
If the prince was out there, alive, then there was an incredibly small chance he could be right here. How could he have found his way to her, become best friends, fell in love? The whole thing was preposterous. The prince was probably just dead somewhere else, maybe in a little unknown graveyard in a little unknown village.
There were more important things to figure out at the time. When she wasn't engaged to a pervert, she could revisit the idea. Now she had to figure out a way to get out of her engagement. Alfred's real identity could wait.