August 5, 1791 AD
The Hapsburg enters one of the studies in his palace. Tired and irritated he throws his wig on the table and relaxes on a comfy chair. The others are doing their usual duties. He looks at them all and asks: "Someone tell Serbia to stop pouting and come here. I want to discuss his yesterday's behaviour."
The others glance at each other. "He went back" Hungary finally speaks. Still irritated, Hapsburg looks at her with a serious expression on his face. "What do you mean went back. Went back where?" he asks.
Flashback: A confused Slavonia stands near the garden entrance. Hungary is near, holding her broom. "You can possibly be serious. Your going back?! Now? He'll kill you on the spot."
His interlocutor is Serbia who is checking to see if she packed everything into her over the shoulder shepherd bag. "He can't really kill me. He'll just impose his authority. This is not the first time I did something like this, I know the drill."
Slavonia turns to Hungary who is already sweeping disinterested with the whole thing. "Aren't you going to tell him something?" he asks concerned.
Hungary stops and sighs. "There's nothing to say. If he wants to go and get his arse kicked who are we to stop him. Not like he can't stay here and help with the chores. After all, you brought all those people. Are we're supposed to care for them without you?"
Serbia smiles briefly: "I can't play house right now. As for them, they'll behave even when I'm not around, don't worry about that." Taking a deep breath, in the clothes she came all those years ago, she adds: "They know what kind of persecution their fellow countrymen go through. Especially in the south and in my birthplace. They'll understand. My people need me back home more than ever. I won't let them suffer alone."
She waves and slowly heads south. Runt stands near her feet and follows her. Slavonia watches them scratching his head still extremely confused. Hungary turns her back and mumbles something like "Good riddance."
End of flashback: We see Hapsburg's tightened lips arching down. "Fine! Perfect even! Why stay here and enjoy all the benefits of a civilized world when you can live in a dirt-floor shack! I'm glad his gone. One less mouth to feed!..." he barks hitting the chair's armrest. His monologue continues as we see North Italy and Bavaria standing in the far corner. "This is bad. He's taken this too personally" North Italy whispers worried.
Next scene: A scene of a broken wooden fence. Feet in pig-skin shoes step on the grass as breaking sounds are heard. A group of a dozen Janissary is destroying her house, chasing away the animals, burning the hey and stalls. Runt, shacking from his little snout to his tail frantically runs in order to avoid being captured. Serbia watched them looking sour. We hear her thoughts as we look at the destruction: "Look at them. I could guess what village they were stolen from by their facial features alone. The others praise their skills as warriors. Their drive and deep devotion to their comrades as it is something to aspire to. Yeah… Sure... No mother, no father, no roots, drilled to be what you are not from young age, no right to a family. Who else can you bond with but the kid in the row next to you?"
One of the Janissary's shouts and point at her. They all run towards her as one. She puts down her bag and spreads her arms. We see their reflections approaching in her wide-open brown and green eyes.
Next scene: Unspecified time after. We see Ottoman with his white mask and turban bellowing at someone. "Did you really think you could get away with it! You filthy little nuisance!"
The one he is yelling at is, of course, Serbia. Her body is beaten up and bruised. With one eye swollen and the other covered in blood coming from the forehead, she squints as she turns her head to the side to avoid the full blow of his breath. The room they are in is empty and covered with simple white plaster. She is tied up.
Shacking from rage, Ottoman continues yelling: "Who put you up to this?! It was that wig-wearing pompous moron, wasn't it?! Why did you do it?! Tell me, why!"
She stays perfectly still and silent. We can only see her chest moving up and down.
"Speak already!" he continued impatiently.
"Hapsburg doesn't yell at his subordinates as much. He let's them say what is on their mind and replies in a calm manner" she says timidly. Ottoman raises his hand to slap his tattered prisoner but stops mid way.
"Oh is that it?" he moves away and starts mumbling to himself. "That hypocrite thinks he can turn my territory against me. Well, I'll show him" he utters grinding his teeth. He calls out and Bosnia and Hercegovina come running into the interrogation room.
"I'll have my coffee here. Bring me my cushions and two nargiles" he commands and the two bolt out.
Next scene: A small table is brought in along with a few cushions and a mat for the Ottoman Empire to sit. Serbia is kneeling next to the table, untied sitting uncomfortably still. She looks longingly at the small coffee cup next to the ratluk sweets. Ottoman mutters: "I hate drinking coffee by myself anyway" and takes a puff out of the nargile. He then looks at his prisoner, calmer than before but still pretty upset. "Well, what are you waiting for? Drink your coffee!" he barks.
Serbia grabs the cup with both hands and sips.
"Take a sweet" he continues. It is not really clear if he is offering or ordering.
She grabs a piece and eats it in one bite.
"Take a puff. Seriously Serbia, as if you never had coffee with anyone before" he says now calm and takes another puff. She looks at him. Her face is too bruised for us to recognize her emotions.
They sit like that, quietly sipping coffee and puffing tobacco for a while. Serbia touches a sore rib still in pain, her shirt is torn on her chest and we can see white blood-stained bandages beneath. "Is the wound still open?" Ottoman asks pointing to her bandages. Suddenly remembering something, Serbia covers her chest with her hand.
"Yes. It's really bad too" she says hiding her panic.
"Still? After all these years?" he nods and watches Serbia enjoying another sip. "Good, isn't it? Bet you didn't have coffee like this back at Hapsburg's place" remembering makes him upset again.
"To be honest, it was a bit sour" she says. "Your food is also better" she adds eating another piece of ratluk with zest.
Ottoman is very pleased with this. Finally in a good mood, he stands up. "I'm leaving now. You clean yourself up and get back to work. The fields aren't going to plough themselves." He steps towards the door, turns and adds in a menacing tone: "And if you do anything like this again, I won't be as merciful. Remember that."
Serbia, with her one good eye wide open, nods frantically. As he leaves, he slams the door shut. She lets out a sigh of relief and slouches back.