Roderich Edelstein had made many mistakes in his life, but he never thought one of his biggest would be having sex.
He didn't set out to have sex the evening it occurred. It just kind of happened.
It was early April, 1718, and he had been invited to a ball being held by all the nobles in Vienna as a violinist. He played for two hours, amazing the crowd with his skillful melodies, before retiring and going to pour himself some wine to relax himself.
It was while he poured himself a glass that he met a young lady by the name of Anna Maria Antonie. She had seen him going to pour himself some wine and wanted to introduce herself. He poured her a glass to be polite, and the two got to chatting.
She was absolutely enchanted by his performance, and let Roderich know this several times, which made him blush from all the praise. He poured himself and her another glass of wine. They talked about themselves. Roderich learned that she had just gotten out of a marriage because she was unable to produce a child, which he could sympathize with, getting out of his marriage with Antonio just a few years ago. They bonded over that over a third glass of wine, and by that time, they were well beyond tipsy.
When Anna Maria suggested that they continue their conversation in her guest room since it was getting late and the ball was nearly over, Roderich took her words at face value and agreed. They were almost to the guest room when she linked her arm in his and leaned against him, and he realized just what was happening. He went along with it happily. She was pretty, and it had been a long time since he had experienced a woman in this way.
They did the deed, and the next morning, they went their separate ways, satisfied. Roderich did not think much more of her until two weeks later, when he heard that she had gotten married again. He simply wished her the best in his mind and thought nothing more of it.
Nine months later, in late January of 1719, Roderich felt a new nation appear somewhere in Vienna.
Nations had the ability to sense whenever other nations were in their territory. The sensation came in the form of a sudden thought, as well as a brief tugging sensation in their solar plexus whenever the nation entered. A few times throughout the years, Gilbert would run back and forth across the Austrian border just to drive Roderich mad. One time, he did this on the Austrian-Swiss border and got shot in the head by Basch, putting an end to his shenanigans.
Naturally, Roderich was curious about this new nation. When new nations spawned, especially in already-populated areas, it often meant that political unrest would soon follow. In fact, there already was some political unrest: at the time, he was involved in the War of the Quadruple Alliance, and wars always had the potential for political unrest.
He managed to track the new nation to Liechtenstein Palace, where the members of the noble House of Liechtenstein lived. Later, he found out that the House of Liechtenstein had gotten some territory out west, and that the Holy Roman Emperor himself had made the territory into the Principality of Liechtenstein. So that answered the question of which territory the new nation represented. He wondered why the child nation had spawned in the Liechtenstein Palace and not in their territory.
Roderich would not get that question answered for several years. One day, a nobleman named Joseph Wenzel approached him. He said that he had heard that Roderich did not age and was incapable of dying, and that his young daughter, Erika, had not aged beyond the age of three and came back from the dead following a bout of tuberculosis. He wanted Roderich to meet her, wondering if he and her were the same kind of being. He gave their address as Liechtenstein Palace and Roderich got his answer.
So this new nation, Erika, was born to humans. She must have had a nation as a grandparent. Roderich wondered who the grandparent was. Judging by physical location, his best guess was Francis, who was one of the most promiscuous people Roderich had ever met. It wouldn't be surprising if Francis had at least one human child, with all the sex he had.
Roderich could not have been more wrong if he tried.
As he stepped foot onto the marble floor of one of the palace staterooms, his eyes met those of no other than Anna Maria Antonie, standing next to Joseph Wenzel.
In a matter of seconds, Roderich connected the dots.
Erika was born in late January of 1719, roughly nine months after Roderich and Anna Maria had their escapade. In order for a nation to be born to a human, the child had to have another nation as either a parent or grandparent.
Fuck.
Roderich put on his best mask of neutrality. He could process this information later. Right now, he had to meet Erika and pretend like he wasn't in the room with the husband of the woman he had slept with two weeks before her wedding. A Herculean task.
Anna Maria was unable to conceal her emotions like Roderich. He watched as her face went ghastly pale and her eyes bulged, flickering between Roderich and the small girl by her side.
The girl, Erika, was a mini clone of her mother, with two long blonde braids tied with ribbons. She wore an expensive-looking pink silk-and-lace dress, complete with a petticoat. Roderich thought she looked a lot like a life-sized doll.
Erika had an intense, slightly glassy stare, like she was simultaneously thinking philosophical thoughts and daydreaming at the same time. She was fixing Roderich with this stare, curious about this stranger that was in her home.
Joseph came up to him, shook his hand, and introduced Anna Maria as his wife, as Roderich expected. Anna Maria curtseyed before saying she felt ill and fleeing the room. Roderich didn't blame her one bit for doing so. If he let himself think about the situation more, he would probably do the same. But he had a task to do.
He walked over to Erika and bent over, lowering himself to her height.
"Hello, Miss Erika," he said, making his voice sound as friendly and non-threatening as possible. "I've heard a lot about you."
Erika didn't reply. She continued to stare at him, as if in a trance. Even after Joseph scolded her and apologized for her behavior, she continued to stare. Roderich didn't mind. She was a child, after all.
He extended his hand towards her. "My name is Roderich Edelstein, but you can call me Mr. Austria. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Erika looked at his hand. After thinking for a moment, she decided to shake it.
As their hands made contact, the telltale tingle of touching a fellow nation made its way across his skin.
Erika gasped, looking back up at Roderich with wide eyes. He tried not to chuckle at her startled reaction.
"Just as I suspected."
Joseph frowned and tilted his head, confused by his words. "Suspected what?"
Roderich then told Joseph and Erika everything. Who he was. What he was. Who and what Erika was.
Joseph's frown only got deeper and deeper as Roderich went on. Erika watched him intently, her face returning to its neutral state. After a while, she started wiggling and looking around, although Roderich could tell she was still listening, by the way her eyes would occasionally flicker back to him.
Just as he finished his explanation, Anna Maria returned. She no longer looked aghast, but she was still a little paler than Roderich remembered.
He gave her a polite nod, which she returned, before turning back to Joseph. "I would like to discuss the care of Erika with your wife, if you don't mind."
He had to discuss this with her. There was no way he couldn't.
Joseph nodded. "Go ahead. You two can discuss that without me, I need the restroom."
He walked out of the stateroom, leaving Erika behind with Roderich and her mother. Erika just stared at the two of them, saying nothing. She seemed to be shy.
"Erika, dear, could you go back to your room?" Anna Maria asked her.
Erika nodded and padded over to the room's door, but when she reached its threshold, she whirled back around.
"Goodbye, Mr. Austria." Her voice was like her: tiny and delicate and adorable. She gave a little wave, and Roderich's heart melted at the gesture. A genuine smile coming onto his face, he returned the wave, and Erika disappeared, presumably going to her bedroom.
Roderich and Anna Maria were alone now. Anna Maria gave a small chuckle.
"She's awfully shy around strangers. You'll have to forgive her."
Roderich blurted out what was on his mind. Politeness be damned. "Is she mine?"
Anna Maria's smile turned sad, and she sighed. "I think so, yes. I figured out I was pregnant with her eight weeks after Joseph and I's wedding. I always knew there was the possibility that she could be yours, and I hoped for everyone's sake that she wasn't. But it seems she inherited your…condition."
Roderich nodded. "That she did." He sighed, his heart sinking as he processed that she was indeed his. "At least she favors you in looks. If she favored me, then we would be in trouble."
Anna Maria studied his face. "I think she has your nose. But yes."
"Does your husband suspect anything?" Roderich asked.
"I don't believe so." She sighed again. "But he's so cold to her. Ever since she came back from the dead, he's been that way towards her. I think her being so…different frightens him, and he deals with his fears by ignoring her."
Roderich's heart sank further. "I see. We should never tell him the truth, then."
"We should never tell anyone," Anna Maria said. "We'll take this to our graves." She gave him a look that he couldn't read. "Or at least, I'll take it to mine, since you cannot die."
"Oh, yes. Regarding that–" Roderich started to give her the same spiel he gave Joseph, but she waved her hand, cutting him off.
"Don't bother. I listened from behind the door the first time."
There was a brief silence, neither of them knowing what else to say. Anna Maria broke it.
"So…about her care. Is there anything special she requires?"
"No." Roderich clasped his hands behind his back. "Just continue to love and care for her like an ordinary child."
An idea formed in his mind, and he blurted it out before he could stop his mouth. "Perhaps I could come by every once in a while and teach her about nationhood."
His damn mouth continued. "If I cannot be her father, then perhaps I could be her mentor."
There. He said it. The F word.
The sentence hung in the air and expanded, filling the grand stateroom.
"I would be fine with that, but ultimately, it would be up to my husband," Anna Maria responded.
"What would be up to me?" Joseph had returned from his bathroom break and was striding into the stateroom.
Roderich's heart skipped a beat and he prayed Joseph didn't hear what he had said before. "I was proposing that I visit every once in a while, perhaps every month, and teach Erika about being a nation."
Joseph reflected on this for a few seconds, then nodded, powdered wig bouncing. "That's fine with me."
Roderich planned his first visit to be the following visit, then left, heading back to the Hofburg Palace. He managed to keep his composure until he was alone in his bedroom. Then, he allowed himself to freak out.
Fuck.
He was a father now. An actual father.
He curled up in a ball in the corner of his room, anxiety gripping him. He stayed that way for maybe an hour, absolutely freaking out and rocking back and forth. No matter how much he breathed, he couldn't get enough air into his lungs.
If anyone found out that he was Erika's father…oh, he was done for. Anna Maria was done for. Erika was done for. The Catholic Church was clear on its views on children born out of wedlock. They'd all be pariahs. Perhaps he deserved that, but Anna Maria and Erika definitely did not.
He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to keep the hot tears in them from escaping.
Why did God keep bringing children into his life? Especially when he had fucked up so badly with Feliciano.
Feliciano. It had to be through some divine intervention that Feli didn't completely hate him for the way he treated him growing up. He was such a bad caretaker that he wasn't even completely sure of Feli's gender until he hit puberty.
Granted, Roderich was only physically fifteen or sixteen when Feli was put into his care, and teenage boys, across all times and cultures, should not be the primary caretakers of young children, but still. He should have treated Feli much better than he did, instead of taking out all of his teenage angst on him.
Maybe Erika was a second chance for him.
He took some deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
He didn't need to be a good caretaker for her. She already had one. All he had to do was be a good mentor. And this time, he was older. Wiser. He would treat her better than he treated Feliciano.
He just had to make sure nobody found out he was Erika's father.
His eyes flew open with determination, and he could feel himself calming down. He promised himself that he would be the best mentor for Erika that he could be.
And that's just what he did.
The next several years, he'd visit Liechtenstein Palace about every month. He and Erika would go into one of the palace's drawing rooms for a couple of hours, and there, he taught her everything he could.
He started with his personal history. He told her about his childhood and adolescence and recent history, glossing over the gory and less child-friendly details. He then pivoted to the history of Austria itself and the land that was now Liechtenstein. He told her about nationhood and important things she needed to know about being a nation. He told her about the other nations he had met, and what his thoughts were on them.
Most of his visits for the first several visits consisted of him just rambling on and on like this. Erika listened to his rambling, sitting by his side and staring up at him with her strange gaze, but Roderich could tell that she wasn't fully grasping all he was saying. She was still so young, after all.
He decided to go about his teachings a different way. Maybe she needed not just an auditory component, but a visual component as well.
One visit, he brought in a map he found of Austria, Liechtenstein, and parts of surrounding lands. He laid it out on one of the drawing room tables and showed it to Erika, pointing to places on it and telling her about them.
Erika studied the map with great interest. When Roderich got to the part with Liechtenstein, she pointed to the land on the map and exclaimed, "Oh! That's me!". He knew then that she was comprehending the information much better that way.
Another visit, he decided to forgo lessons altogether and brought his violin and played for her. Anna Maria came in and listened, too. Erika absolutely adored the music. She danced to it, spinning around and around, braids flying, squealing and laughing in delight. Roderich had never seen her that happy before, and he couldn't help but smile at her unadulterated joy.
Even after his performance ended, Erika remained smiling, and she bounced and wiggled her hands in a way that reminded Roderich of his own childhood. He used to wiggle his hands in delight like that too when he was her age, before some general took offense to it and beat him for it. On the rare occasions when he did feel joy as an adult, he always became very self-aware of what his hands were doing and tried to hide them if possible.
Perhaps Erika had inherited more from him than he thought.
For some reason, this thought made him smile.
—-
Not long after Roderich played for Erika and Anna Maria, the troubles began. Austria was already reeling from the War of the Spanish Succession and the War of the Quadruple Alliance at the beginning of the century, but as the century went on, wars built like thunderclouds on a hot summer day.
The War of Austrian Succession. All that business with Maria Theresa. The Silesian Wars. The Seven Years' War. So many wars. Too many wars.
These wars prevented Roderich from seeing Erika every month, and his visits became less and less frequent as time progressed further and further into the 18th century. At one point, his visits were so infrequent that Erika started looking a little bit older every time he visited.
He wanted to keep visiting. He really wanted to. But the constant warfare kept him busy. And when he wasn't too busy to visit, he was too weak. The wars had tanked both the economy and the wellbeing of the population, and it manifested in him as physical weakness. He felt tired all the time and was prone to terrible headaches that often left him bedridden. Most days, he was lucky if he could even leave the palace.
Eventually, it got to the point where five years passed and Roderich never once visited Erika. He hated himself for it.
Erika was probably heartbroken that he never visited her anymore. She probably thought he abandoned her.
He was an absolute failure of a mentor.
Somehow, this was more humiliating than the defeats he had suffered at the hands of Gilbert during the wars.
One cold day in January 1753, he overheard two gossiping aristocrats say that the wife of Joseph Wenzel I of Liechtenstein had died a few days ago. His heart shattered in his chest.
If Anna Maria was dead, then that meant that Erika had no one to care for her. To love her. And Roderich doubted Joseph was up to the task.
A sudden energy surged in Roderich, cutting through his fatigue. For the first time in many years, he found himself heading towards Liechtenstein Palace.
Erika needed him now. And he wasn't going to let her down.
When he knocked at the front door of the palace, it wasn't one of the servants who answered but Joseph himself. It had been many years since Roderich last saw him, and there were more lines on his face than he remembered.
Joseph looked him up and down. "Ah, so you finally decided to come back after all these years."
"My apologies," Roderich wheezed, winded from all the walking he had done to get there. The walk never used to tire him this much. "I haven't been well lately, with the wars and whatnot."
Joseph just shrugged. "You're too late. She's gone."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Erika's gone. I sent her away this morning." Joseph gestured in the direction of the Alps. "I sent her to Vaduz with some friends of mine. I figured it would be best to send her to her homeland. Get her away from all the war business in the city."
"..." Roderich felt like Erika when he first met her. All he could do was just stare with wide eyes.
Joseph noticed his reaction. "She'll be well-cared for, if that's what you're worried about."
Roderich finally found some words. Awkward ones, but words nonetheless. "I'm sorry about your wife."
"Thank you. She will be missed by many."
Roderich bade goodbye and began the walk back to Hofburg Palace. Even though he was wearing his warmest winter coat, the cold pierced through him, chilling him to the bone.
So she was gone. Sent far away to her territory. Roderich would likely not see her for a long time.
He tried to console himself by reminding himself that out there, she would be safe from all the fighting. She'd be able to leave the house and go outside, instead of being locked away from the world by an uncaring parent. Perhaps, she'd be happy.
But despite all this, Roderich still felt a deep sadness that pierced him with the cold. He just wished he was able to see her one last time. Let her know that he didn't abandon her.
But of course, he knew that it still seemed like he abandoned her.
A shitty mentor and a shitty father indeed.
The years marched on by. The 18th century became the 19th century. To absolutely no one's surprise, there were more wars.
But somehow among all those wars, there was marriage. In 1867, Roderich married Erzsébet Héderváry, or the nation of Hungary, in an arranged marriage.
Roderich was not entirely unhappy about this marriage. He had known Erzsi for a long time and was comfortable with her. She had gotten him out of some tight spots in the past. But their marriage was not one born of love, but of politics. If it weren't for their respective governments forcing them to marry, they wouldn't be married.
Their dynamic reflected the reason behind their marriage. They argued and said spiteful things to one another. Many nights ended with one of them sleeping in the drawing room. But at the same time, against their will, they got closer to one another. They learned to understand one another. And they cared for one another.
Erzsi had met Erika not too long before their marriage. She was about ten years of physical age at the time, and it pained Roderich a little knowing that he had missed so much of her childhood. She apparently asked Erzsi to say hello to Roderich for her, which made him almost want to cry.
As her husband, Roderich thought about telling Erzsi the truth about his relationship with Erika, but decided against it. She'd be pissed that he hid the truth from her, and she'd be even more pissed that he, technically, abandoned her.
He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't hurt her in that way.
He kept his mouth shut.
Roderich got to see Erika a few times during his marriage to Erzsi. His encounters with her never lasted long and were always in the company of others, but he was grateful just for the chance to see her again. It had been well over a century since he'd seen her last at that point.
She looked the exact same as she did as a small child, with her blonde braids and intense green stare, just older. However, she was bony and moved sluggishly, and her previous fancy dresses had been replaced by simpler, more plain numbers.
The few times that Roderich got to speak with her, she was soft-spoken and polite to him. He was polite back, being as warm as he could in their brief interactions. He wished he could pull her aside and talk to her more, let her know what had happened and why he stopped visiting, but he was always too busy whenever he encountered her. His chances to apologize slipped away.
Then, World War I happened.
Roderich and Erzsi divorced when the Austro-Hungarian Empire dissolved, and Roderich was left destitute, dishonored, and even weaker than before. Things were so bad that he had to move in with Gilbert and his younger brother Ludwig.
His physical symptoms were even worse. His head pounded constantly, and he was so weak he couldn't walk very far without collapsing. He had to use a cane, and eventually, Ludwig built him a wheelchair to help him get around easier.
From what he heard, Erika was doing just as bad. In fact, her economy was nearly at the point of collapse, which could easily lead to the collapse of the nation. Meaning she could die.
Her land's only crime was being associated with his. As a result, the Allied Powers ran her economy to the ground. Roderich felt sick knowing that he was somewhat responsible for this.
Erika didn't deserve to die. Not one bit. She was so sweet and gentle and young. Almost two hundred years old, and barely twelve years of physical age.
If she had died, Roderich would have never forgiven himself.
Thankfully, she didn't die.
Word reached Roderich that Basch had taken in Erika and had adopted her as his little sister. Relief flooded him the moment he heard that news.
She would be alright. She would live.
He and Basch had grown apart, but Basch was dependable. Basch would take good care of Erika, the way he took good care of Roderich centuries ago. Roderich trusted him entirely with the care of Erika.
The adoption came with the added bonus of another layer of protection for Roderich's secret. Since Erika now had a big brother, nobody would be interested in seeing if perhaps she had other nations as family members.
However, Roderich could never quite shake the fear that one day, the truth would eventually come to light.
And much to his horror, he was correct.
—-
When the UN announced that they were doing mandatory DNA testing on all the nations and that it would be testing familial connections between the nations, Roderich freaked out.
He had intended to never tell anyone that Erika was his child. He was hoping to keep it a secret forever. And if he did end up telling someone, it would be in his own time, in his own way. It would definitely not involve a bunch of random scientists he didn't know studying his DNA against his will like some sort of lab rat.
He didn't try to complain about or resist the testing, as much as he wanted to. If he did, then he knew he would come off as suspicious and it might tip someone off (namely Gilbert and Ludwig, who he still lived with in the 21st century) that he had something to hide. Begrudgingly, he went along with it.
Him, Ludwig, and Gilbert traveled to Vienna from their shared home just outside Munich for the test, to a WHO-associated hospital. The entire train ride there, Roderich was tense and grouchy, going as far as to yell at Ludwig for accidentally putting his arm in his personal space. When they got to the hospital, Roderich was even worse. He was twitchy and anxious and even grumpier, complaining about the layout of the hospital as they walked to where the test would be done.
Ludwig definitely noticed his change in demeanor. "Are you okay, Roderich? You seem stressed."
Roderich managed to stammer out a lie. "I-I just think this test is too invasive. That is all."
Gilbert raised a brow. "Too invasive? And all those COVID tests we had to do a few years ago weren't?" He laughed. Ludwig gave him a sharp look, and he stopped. Roderich resisted the urge to throttle Gilbert like old times.
The test itself was nothing to stress over. Just a swishing of salt water in the mouth, a cheek swab, then all was done. Roderich's mood did not improve even after it was finished.
He made a decision shortly after. He told Ludwig and Gilbert to return to Munich without him, that he had some business to take care of in Vienna. He needed some time to himself to process the fact that his biggest, most scandalous secret would be revealed to others in a month. He planned on remaining in Vienna until the results came out, and probably then some afterwards. He didn't want to be around other nations when the news broke.
And that's what he did. He spent the four weeks in Vienna alone, staying in the apartment he stayed in whenever he was in the city for business. Every day, he checked the results web portal, dreading the day the results would appear.
The days crawled by. He'd spend his mornings in coffeeshops, reading books, and then spend his afternoons either visiting museums or parks. In the evenings, he'd either go to the symphony when they were playing, or he'd make his own music alone in his apartment. He still expressed his emotions best through his own music, so that's what he did. His melodies that month were tense, fearful, with a hint of melancholy underlying them.
Finally, the day came when the damned results came in. He got the email, and he immediately went to the web portal and logged in.
And there it was.
ERIKA VOGEL - RELATION: DAUGHTER
Fuck.
He was lucky he was in his apartment. He felt like he was finding out she was his daughter for the first time again, only this time, the emotional response came instantly. His heart pounded in his chest and breathing became difficult.
Feeling dizzy, he laid down on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, willing the world to stop spinning around him.
So it was revealed. The truth was out there, for Erika and whoever else he was related to to discover.
For an hour, Roderich was afraid to check his phone. When he finally got the courage to open it, he was shocked to find no text messages or missed calls. And for the rest of the day, he got no other text messages or calls.
Perhaps it wasn't a big deal. Perhaps he was making a mountain out of a molehill. Perhaps Erika, Basch, Ludwig, and Gilbert were somehow okay with this information. Perhaps this information changed absolutely nothing.
Roderich's anxiety finally started to melt away, and he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he had acted.
All this panicking over a little line of text on a website? For being over a thousand years old, he had sure acted juvenile.
He stayed in Vienna for another day after the results came out, then he decided to return to Munich. He had been vague to Ludwig and Gilbert as to when he'd been back, and they were probably worried about him. Or at least Ludwig was. Gilbert and him still weren't on the best of terms. Living together for a few decades couldn't erase the centuries of bad blood between them.
When Roderich texted them both and told them he was finally returning, Gilbert just texted him "Good luck lol". His text was baffling and made Roderich roll his eyes. The things Gilbert did and said hardly made sense to him most of the time.
Roderich did not grasp the meaning behind Gilbert's text until he stepped through the door of their home.
Then, he realized just how badly he had miscalculated.