Disclaimer: The Hetalia characters and their personifications belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. 日丸屋 秀和
What Not to do if You are a Knight by Gilbert Beilschmidt:
47.) Do not encourage a crowd of angry, confused guardsmen to fire when they are pointing loaded weapons at you.
48.) Especially do not do this when the people you are trying to save are standing in front of you like human meat shields.
A Grand Entrance
The journey was somewhat slow-going with only three riding animals, but the troop managed to reach Lovina's castle by sunset that evening. The sky was the color of blazing embers and the palace appeared as one giant, ominous shadow overcasting the village in the distance.
It had all gone as planned... for the most part:
Lovina, Elizaveta, and the trio of knights approached the gates slowly, hands raised up high to show they were unarmed.
Many of the castle guards had recognized their princess at once. There were immediate shouts of "It's her!", "The princess!", and "The princess has returned!"
Other soldiers had only seen the infamous black cross splayed against the three leading member's tunics and instantly feared the worst. They barked orders demanding that the newly-arrived strangers halt and warned them not to take a single step closer.
Still other panicked voices ordered the archers to take aim and be ready to fire when given a signal. These commands were followed by Lovina's urgent shrieks of, "No! Do NOT fire at your own princess, you idiots!"
Eventually, amidst the uproar of excitement and confusion, there were finally instructions to let the group inside the castle's gates.
"Lay down your weapons!" shouted a guard.
"We mean you no harm!" cried the Frenchman.
"Is it really her?!" asked an officer.
"Soldiers, on my mark!" asserted a man positioned atop the battlements.
"Shoot us, I dare you! Do it and she dies, shit-for-brains!" growled a crazed albino down below.
"Gilbert! Don't provoke them!" Elizaveta shrilled.
Then, with a loud creak and clang of metal chains, all the voices fighting to be heard were suddenly interrupted. The castle gates were lowered.
Standing at their base was the head councilman as well as several guards and other high-ranking officials. All of whom stared, awe-struck, at the apparition before them: their lost Princess Lovina.
A few of the maidservants watching from the doors of the inner bailey cried with joy and ran to both Lovina and Kitty, helping them down from their horse and checking them over like mother hens.
After the girls had dismounted, the latter of the two attempted to calm and reassure the fretting servant women while Lovina merely pushed them aside and stormed into her castle, past the high officials.
"Move over, ass-wads, we've got some preparing to do!"
"Lovina!" interjected the councilman with fake concern. "My dear Princess, we are so grateful for your safe return. But hold, who are these men? Why do they don the apparel of the Teutonic Knights? And what do you mean by 'prepare'?"
Lovina, however, was in no mood for dealing with the Council. She was in no mood for dealing with anyone at the moment. She was back in herdomain and she was going to protect it, dammit.
...And yet, Lovina could not deny that her next piece of information would undoubtedly spark an uproar of confutation from the group of powerful noblemen before her. She sighed heavily and a determined scowl settled onto her face.
"These three," she said, gesturing toward the small troop of dirty men currently encircled by an assemblage of swords and spears, "are ex-soldiers from the Order of the Teutonic Knights. They defected from the enemy's side to save me. Now they are going to lead our men into battle against enemy forces, who, I have reason to believe, will reach our castle any day now."
"Woah woah woah, stop, STOP!" objected the lead councilman. "Preposterous! We cannot trust traitors! They could be spies! Assassins! Setting you up for failure to make it easier for themselves!"
Lovina took a moment to contemplate her answer. She was no longer a child; no longer could she pout or whine or curse the Council out in a fit of callow rage. It would not work this time. Furthermore, to earn the respect she so desperately craved, Lovina had to find a way to speak rationally and convince her subjects that this was in the kingdom's best interest.
Unfortunately... "You just have to trust me," was the best she could offer, though she knew her response was less than reassuring.
"What a rash decision! No, absolutely not! Princess, it matters not what these heathens have done or said in the time you were away; they are tricksters! They-" One of the kidnappers quickly stepped forward.
"Please, Señor," the green-eyed knight began, "I understand how suspicious this all may seem, but you must believe us. It is the truth. We are willing to die for this cause rather than return to that army."
Accordingly, the three strangers bowed low to the High Council in a display of approbation. They each got down on one knee, crossed an arm over their chest, and lowered their heads.
"That is not enough of an explanation for me," ground out the elder councilman coldly. "And, Lovina, I am sorry, but you have NO power to make decisions here anyway. We've had this discussion before. We've-"
"We've agreed," she interrupted calmly, "that if I consented to marry a nobleman of my choosing within three months' time, I would retain my title as monarch and my position as rightful ruler of this kingdom." She paused, scanned her eyes over the crowd, and continued.
"I'm engaged," she declared for all to hear.
There was a collective gasp from all the castle personnel who had gathered near the entrance.
On cue, Antonio rose from his knee and stepped over to the small-statured Italian so that he stood beside her.
The head councilman looked with astonishment between the two. "No!" he raved. "Unacceptable! We will not allow this! You are insolent, Princess, and if you dare think you can just oh-so-cleverly circumvent the rules like this, then I suggest you think again. We will never allow our forces to take orders from these men - these boys, I should say! I will-"
At that moment, the young Spaniard lifted his chin. Antonio narrowed his eyes, clenched his fists, and, to everyone's surprise, stomped forward.
He ignored the clatter of weapons around him and continued to trudge forward until he was nose-to-nose with the head councilor. He spoke in a low tone so that only he and the surrounding councilmen could hear clearly. At first his voice had an almost lulling undertone, like an eerie calm that settles before a violent storm.
"I do not think you understand. It has been decided by the princess and no further approval is necessary."
Just then, Antonio barked out, in a thunderous voice sharper and more threatening than Lovina had ever thought him capable of: "Is that clear?! That is MY future wife and this is MY future kingdom. You do not get to talk down to me like that. Now if you wish for your pathetic lives to continue, I suggest you listen well..."
His eyes were large and menacing; green flames alight with hot rage. His grip was so tight on the cloth of the man's chest that the threads began ripping audibly. His face was so intense and so close to that of the councilman's...
At that moment, caught by surprise as much as anyone else gathered at present, Lovina could not help but recall that horrible ax-wielding assassin she had met on the fateful day when her carriage crashed. The one who rode through the pelting rain with murder in his eyes, who didn't hesitate to fire arrows at two unarmed women behind a thin canvas shield. She recognized then the animalistic warrior that had been born and bred in the Teutonic Knights, and realized in a flash of terror that this may very well have been the real Antonio all along.
Her heart dropped into her stomach as the fear that she had tucked away in the back of her mind came creeping out.
Dear God, what had she agreed to?
This Antonio person was clever beneath the surface. Had he tricked her? Was he only using her to reach a position of power? Was it too late to back out of her commitment? But then what would become of her kingdom?
Gesturing toward himself, Antonio continued, "You call us 'boys'. Youth means nothing! You NEED a powerful leader if you want to save this kingdom; someone mighty, someone fearless. You need to take a risk if you want even a chance of not being pillaged and burned..."
He was insane. He was dangerous. Lovina felt her legs begin to shake as she witnessed this dual-personality continue to verbally castigate the High Council so shamelessly before the entire courtyard.
"...You need someone commanding, someone determined. You need..."
And she had just promised him the crown. What was worse: allowing her kingdom to burn at the hands of a hundred bloodthirsty Knights... or crumble into oppression at the hands of just one of them?
God in Heaven, she thought lamentingly. She had been so desperate to protect her home, had she even thought of the consequences of striking a deal with this stranger? She was going to cry. She was going to be sick. She had absolutely no idea what to-
"...Princess Lovina to lead you."
Her head snapped up, broken out of her perturbed thoughts by the sound of her name. She stared in utter bewilderment as she slowly comprehended Antonio's last sentence.
"She is your last damn hope," the young Spaniard's voice rang out as clear as a bell through the entire courtyard. "Only a leader as devoted to her people as she, can possibly save you. What she says goes, and I'm here to personally enforce that message."
He turned back for a brief moment toward the astonished Italian. For an instant, all the malice and cruelty had vanished from his features, leaving only that familiar, goofy smile. He winked at her.
She stared at him. She did not know much about this Antonio character. He was more than just confusing, he was a complete and utter, headache-inducing mystery that she decided she would never be able to fully figure out. He was dark and light, brilliant and brainless, steady and clumsy. But there was something unexplainably... good about him. There was a spark of honesty in his eyes and in his smile that outshone his random bouts of darkness.
She didn't know what it was, why she could trust him so easily or what had convinced her to agree to a bond of matrimony with this weirdo instead of all the other suitors...
but as it happened, she was currently going to marry this stranger,
and knowing that made her feel suddenly braver, stronger, happier, and more reassured than she'd felt in a long time.
And she honestly did not know why.
But then and there, she decided that this Antonio was a good man to have on her side.
The deathly silence continued ringing throughout the courtyard for a full minute after Antonio concluded his monologue.
Eventually, the councilman narrowed his eyes and brushed Antonio's hands roughly off the front of his shirt. "Touching speech. Was that supposed to frighten me? To inspire us? Lovina is well known here. She is a spoiled child, and nothing more."
But then, one of the older commanding officers stepped forward.
"She is well known here. ...I know for a fact that she refuses to have a food-taster for fear that he might ingest poison that was meant instead for her. I know that when her maids fall ill she gives them her own bed to rest in until they are better. I've seen her fits, her outbursts, the way she stamps her feet at the Council, but I do not see a little child. I see a noblewoman who refuses to put herself above her subjects."
Antonio, Lovina, and the pack of councilmen turned in surprise at the guard's outburst. However, before any reprimand could be given-
"He speaks the truth," interjected another. "I served under Romulus's leadership, and I see the same passion for his people in the eyes of his eldest granddaughter. I will serve the granddaughter of King Romulus before anyone else!"
"We serve the granddaughter of Romulus!" cheered the archers above.
The knights at the gate bowed to all the newcomers, lowering themselves down on one knee. "We are at your command, Your Highness."
The maids did not say anything but flocked protectively around their little princess.
This went on until nearly all the castle personnel were kneeling in allegiance to their newly returned heiress.
The only individuals who remained standing were Lovina, Antonio, and the eight furious councilmen.
Lovina turned in circles, astonished at the display of veneration. Shocked to see the faith her castle members placed in her, she could not help but to wonder if it was really just the late king's reputation that stirred such a reaction from her subjects. Perhaps Antonio's speech had left a greater effect on the crowd than she'd originally thought.
But it couldn't possibly be... she refused to believe... Had all those years of defiance that she'd been told were acts of childish misbehavior actually a proof of leader-like resilience and capability to those who witnessed her growing up in the castle?
Her eyes fell upon the head councilor.
She narrowed her gaze, knowing that, though he would prove her greatest obstacle, he was, at present, out-numbered and overpowered.
Lovina stepped back and scanned the courtyard, meeting the dozens of gazes that fell upon her. She looked to the servants, the guards, the cooks, the scribes.
"My people," she began with the potency of a true queen, "I know how completely insane this seems. I know that you have every reason in the world not to trust these men... believe me, I know. And yet... they are our last hope. I have brought them here only because I believe it was the right decision to save this kingdom. They have risked their lives to come here, they have laid down their weapons before you, and they have protected me from harm. If these acts are not proof enough to quell your distrust, then I pose this question: where else can we possibly turn? What other options do we have? The Teutonic Knights are coming and we know we do not have the resources to defend ourselves. I'm telling you that these three men can make the difference. What do we have to lose?" Lovina paused in her speech and allowed her questions marinate in the minds of her audience. After a few silent moments had passed, she concluded, "I am asking you, soldiers and servants, to trust me. If you will have me as your leader, then I need to know I am followed. A king is nothing without his people. ...In other words, I need your help."
Another bout of silence followed before a young archer cried, "We, Your Highness, shall follow you to the gates of hell before we let this castle be seized."
"And I did not spend the last 16 years rearing a queen only to let her be killed," added a wrinkled maid with her hands on her hips. "I am at your command, as well, my Queen. Give me orders and I will do my part."
"She sees something in this burly Spanish bastard that every other suitor that tried for her hand somehow lacked. I say there must be somethin' to him!" shouted a cook.
Voices rose among the crowd in accumulating agreement. The vigor grew and cheers arose.
That is, until someone voiced, "But how can three men really turn the tide of battle? We are outnumbered by these warriors and that is that. Three men do not make us any stronger."
"Strategy," someone replied quickly. Heads turned in different directions seeking the source of the voice until they came to rest on the face of the little maid with auburn curls. "We don't have to be stronger than them," Elizaveta told the objector flatly. "We just have to be smarter. That's how you succeed."
This answer seemed to satisfy most of the remaining doubters.
Almost all were won over by the emerging plan to trust the three strangers and follow them into battle.
All, that is, except the high councilors who stood their ground before the doors.
Lovina stared defiantly at the head councilor. "Soldiers!" she commanded without turning her head, "get these three men some uniforms and start preparing for battle. We're going to take down an army."
On that note, she turned and promptly made her way inside, followed by the supporting crowd.
The councilman's eyes narrowed dangerously as they trailed after her.
Lovina entered the castle beneath the archway as the throng of followers swept past her in a galvanized flurry.
It seemed as of right now, most of the castle was on board... Lovina merely prayed that now the ship wouldn't sink.
She felt a small knot in her stomach twist tighter as the reality of the situation struck her. This stampede of eager people bustling around were placing their complete faith in her. She had just several moments ago established that the entire kingdom and the welfare of its people were her responsibility and hers alone. It was up to Lovina to be a competent leader: that meant never clumsy, always dignified; never frightened, always prepared; ever firm in her commands but never temperamental. She had to become the substance which cemented her people together and the voice which invigorated them to fight and... and...
So many other things she wasn't sure she had it in her to be! She was a 16-year-old girl. Hadn't she just returned home from a "kidnapping"? Weren't there soldiers on their way to pillage her castle? Wasn't she about to be married? Hadn't she just uncovered the secret identity of her so-called best friend? Yet as a leader she could not break down and cry. Nor could she scream or sigh or tug at her hair because such things were "womanish" and "weak" and she needed her subjects to have confidence in her. But this was all too much! The pressure, the stress, the terror, the-
With all the bustling and rushing, no one noticed when a hand seized Lovina by the arm tugged her against the wall.
Before she could shout in protest, a soft whisper caressed her ear.
"They should listen to you now, ¿sí? After standing up to the Council?" Antonio asked.
Lovina's let out a sigh of relief. Her lips settled somewhere between the smile she couldn't quite suppress and the glare she couldn't quite evince.
"Yeah... thanks for that."
Antonio stared down at her with that same effortless smile that communicated nothing but fondness and reassurance.
"Stop that, bastard!"
"Stop what?"
"Staring down at me like a giant! It's creepy as hell!"
"I can crouch?"
Lovina rolled her eyes exasperatedly before replying, "Nevermind, idiota, let's just go."
Smiling complacently in agreement, the Spaniard offered his arm before they proceeded. Lovina glanced disdainfully at his elbow before reluctantly looping her arm through and continuing down the hall as a dignified queen would.
Though she hated the fact that she had to put up with Antonio as her "fiancé" - walking arm-in-arm with him wherever she went, having to look at his stupid, perpetually smiling face, and putting up with his annoying, mushy, (somewhat endearing) gestures of chivalry - she was at least reassured by the fact that she wouldn't trip and embarrass herself with him holding her side.
In fact, she was more than slightly relieved at that fact... she very much appreciated having him there next to her.
It felt... right.
For one fleeting moment, she had this hope that he'd be on her side like that forever.
But she quickly shook that fantasy off.
They were only "marrying" one another because each had something to gain. This was no time for fantasies. War was coming.