Forever

Broken Promise

Mexico was outside washing clothes. Many servants knew Mexico, and they knew his bright smile and sparkling eyes. But for the past year, the young man only smiled to bow before the king. A false, hateful smile. His eyes only sparkled when anyone had food to spare, or when he was allowed to take a break.

No longer living with Philip, Mexico had his own chamber in the servants quarters. He was rarely assigned work, so he just settled with cooking and cleaning. He primarily cooked for his fellow servants, and rarely provided for the royals. However, Mexico learned he wasn't the only one among his siblings forced into servitude. He had many step siblings, their stories similar to his.

Although, Mexico noticed one huge difference. While Spain always spoke to him of how beautiful, strong and lovely his mother was, many of his step siblings couldn't recall one detail of their mother, wether through someone telling them or them meeting her themselves. Nor did any of them seem to have the bond Mexico had with his father. Most of them barely knew him.

"Typical royal, just running around and making love with every lady he sees," one of his siblings would say. Philip would simply shake his head.

"I've no doubt in my mind that Spain doesn't have a choice. His majesty is pairing him up with every lady in the land. The children his majesty sees fit to rule, stays. The ones who don't, end up here. It's not the case of a perverted prince, rather his crazed father," Philip said.

Mexico could never take his mind off these words. His father was forced with so many women... and yet he was cursed to fall in love with the only one he could never have. Mexico was the only reminder his father had of his dead love, but now Spain was truly alone. Mexico often stared out his window, gazing longingly into the woods. He had seen his father do the exact same thing. Mexico held tightly onto Thirteens pendant, finally knowing why.

Meanwhile, in Paris, America was walking through the garden with his mother, having a cheerful conversation.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you in person. Father always said the best things about you," America said. France smiled sadly.

"Britain... it's been so long since I've seen him... how was he?" France asked. America sighed.

"Nothing like British Empire... he was very calculated, but not cold. He loved his children dearly... even Netherlands, who was living with us until Dutch Empire grew bored and divorced our father," America said. France nodded.

"And... Canada?" France asked. America smiled sadly at the thought of his dear younger brother.

"Oh mother... I've no idea how you raised him, but the day I met him....despite he not knowing English.... he spoke in the kindest tone. He was always so thoughtful and considerate... just seeing someone happy would make his eyes light up... he..." America began tearing up, which he tried to hide with his handkerchief, however, the tears kept rising. He looked at France, and saw it on her face as well. "Oh dear, looks like we're both crying..." America said, smiling, yet crying. The two of them sat down at a nearby bench.

"You must miss him as much as I.... we used to walk here together all of the time...," France said. America nodded.

"Me an him would always run off to play... we'd go to the forest to meet our friend...," America said.

"The forest?" France asked.

"Yes... I suppose that's where you and father met," America asked. France nodded.

"Yes... and who were you meeting in the forest?" France asked. America sighed.

"My best friend.... Mexico...," America said, feeling more tears rising. He quickly wiped them away. "I... I do not wish to speak of my past anymore... now, who will be attending the upcoming ball?" America asked, standing up. The two began walking, just talking about the ball or other small things. However, one thing still stained America's mind. It seemed the more he was reminded, the more the stain grew.

Please Mex.... I swear... I swear I'll never leave you.... you're my best friend..... I love you

I promised....