Bound by Destiny | COUNTRYHUMAN AU

Worries

I sighed as I observed the servant packing the last of my clothes into the luggage. He turned around, eyebrows raised. "Did I miss something Prince Germany?" he inquired politely. I shook my head quickly as I answered, "No Berlin, nothing. Thank you for your help." He nodded and turned to close the lid. I sighed again as two other servants hurried in to take the luggage away. Berlin turned to face me, frowning. "Are you okay Prince Germany? You have been sighing quite a bit lately. Is there something bothering you?" he asked before hurriedly adding, "I...I didn't mean to pry! It's just...it's you looked so worried and–"

I raised my hand to stop him as I let out a chuckle. "Calm down Berlin, I'm not going to get mad. Thank you for your concern. I guess the starting school year is stressing me out a bit. I'll be fine though!" I hurriedly added the last bit, forcing a smile onto my face. Berlin smiled sympathetically as he patted my back. "All will go well Prince, perhaps this year you'll make a friend!" he added brightly. I winced but forced myself to nod along, "Yea, maybe I'll make friends." Friends? Ha, who would want to be my friend after what Vater did? He basically massacred thousands of people! Friends, pffft, more like enemies. Berlin chuckled as he gave me another pat on the back. Bowing, he soon headed out of my room to complete his other duties. I sank back into my bed as soon as he left and I found myself worrying about school all over again.

Some things are bound to go wrong. I don't think I'm ready to socialise with others again. What if I mess up? Oh god, what if I meet him on the first day?

It was going to be my 7th year at Pangea Preparatory Academy, a school for all the royals and those rich enough to afford the highly expensive school fees. I had been going there since I was 12 and I absolutely hated it there. Not because I didn't like school but because I didn't have friends. Not that many wanted to be after what my father had done during the war. Especially the Prince of Light, Poland. During the war, my father had harmed him and his father very seriously causing both of them to lose their wings and Poland's father lost one eye. Poland never forgave me after that saying that I was a monster despite the thousands of apologies our kingdom had issued to them and the hundreds of dinners we held with them. It didn't matter that we had "relations" (a rather poor one that is), the truth was that the Kingdom of Light still detested the Kingdom of Darkness and their citizens definitely weren't shy about letting ours know about that. Especially Poland. Especially him.

I sighed again as I fiddled with the cuff of a long-sleeved shirt. Truthfully, the only person who had ever been close enough to being my friend was Russia, the Knyaz of Winter. He and I became friends when our fathers decided to become allies and fight in the war. But that alliance soon broke off when Vater backstabbed Russia's father. Our relationship with the Kingdom of Winter became frosty as Vater began to attack them. Russia and I however decided to continue being friends. Why should we let our parents decide who we become friends with? But ever since we had a huge heated argument over his treatment of his sibling, Ukraine, our once already fragile friendship shattered. I would never forget the words he hissed to me in the final moments before the teachers came. "You're a monster too Germaniya, don't be a f**king hypocrite." Perhaps his words rang with some truth. Maybe I was a monster. Or a coward in Poland's case.

I really need to stop thinking about this, I groaned rubbing my forehead. Getting up from the bed, I plodded to my desk and turned on the lamp. The light flickered weakly before it illuminated my desk. Hauling a thick book from my bookshelf, I quickly flipped to where I had last stopped. My eyes roved the page, drinking in the words and schematics printed onto the delicate material. As I read, my hand scribbled down notes and ideas of inventions. Maybe I could get one of the citizens to help me build them. Heh, if I wasn't destined to be the heir for the throne, I might have just decided to pursue a path in inventing things. Perhaps help to forward and improve people's lives. But Oma always tutted at my decision. "Getting soaked in motor oil? How un-royal like," she told me many years ago when I showed her my "invention" (It was a miniature guillotine used to cut veggies. Our chef was not happy with how it looked.) Ever since then, I never really touched another tool and focused my time on reading up on engineering. If I wasn't allowed to invent, I could at least give ideas and hope that someone could bring it alive for me.