The Shot Heard Around the World (Countryhumans American Revolution)

Why Are There so Many Treaties in Paris?

I am skipping over a lot of this war, due to this book being on the American Revolution and not the Seven Years War. Anyways, just for context, this entire chapter is in French unless it is said otherwise.
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February 10, 1763

Paris, France

The war had been brutal on Canada's grandmother. She had lost a lot of his island half-siblings to Britain, and today, she would be surrendering to Britain and his allies. Canada was nervous. Treaty signings were a big deal, and this would involve much of his family being given to Britain.

And it would involve Canada being given to Britain.

Ever since he had found out, he had been talking around his grandmother's home in Paris numbly, taking in the sights, not knowing if he would ever see it again. The places Canada would miss were his room, Louisiana's room, and the kitchen with the excellent cook who had taught Canada how to make some of his favorite pastries.

He had also been grabbing little trinkets, reminders of his life here, packed into his bag with the rest of his stuff.

"Canada! Your grandmother is waiting! You do not want to be the reason she's late, especially with the treaty happening today." Canada's father, New France, said.

"I'm scared, Father," Canada said, "I don't want to go with Britain, and I don't want you to die."

With Canada being given up to Britain and Louisana surrendering to Spain, New France would die. His father was about to die, and Canada was just going to leave him.

It felt wrong.

"It's okay, Canada. I'm not afraid of death." New France said with a gentle smile.

"But you're New France! You should be the one living, not me!"

"Britain made it clear. He gets you. Spain gets Louisiana. I'm both of you, my last surviving children, and I cannot take the place of either of you. You two will live on for me, and I will watch from heaven with your deceased sisters, Plaisance and Acadia. I made my peace with that long ago. Now you need to—no use crying over what you can't stop. Now, go. You know your Grandmother isn't a patient woman." His father said.

"Can you walk me down, Father? I..." Canada trailed off, not sure how to word his request.

He just wanted to make sure that he got to see as much of his father as possible before he died.

"Sorry, Canada, but...I have a place I'd like to die, and I need to get there. Now hurry." New France said before he rushed off. Canada sighed, taking one last look at his father before biting down his tears.

Canada then turned and quickly rushed outside, slowing as he approached his Grandmother's carriage, bowing his head slightly at her.

"Where have you been?" Grandmother snapped, smacking Canada lightly on his head as he got in.

'I'm sorry, Grandmother. I was just saying goodbye to my Father." Canada said. His grandmother's eyes softened a bit.

"I see." She said, glancing out the window, "Well, you haven't made us late. We still have time to get there."

Canada had known his grandmother long enough to know that was her way of apologizing for his father's death.

Not that he blamed her. He only blamed Britain. Britain had been forcing his people out of their land for so long and had been slowly replacing them with his own–

Canada's hand flew to his forehead as another headache wracked him.

Some of him hated Britain for what he was doing to his people. Another part of him...seemed to love him. Canada knew it had something to do with the expulsion of his people and Britain replacing them with his people.

He just didn't know what it meant yet.

Canada was scared.

The carriage continued down the streets of Paris until it reached a building Canada didn't recognize. The pit in his stomach grew.

"You'll be alright, Canada." His grandmother said, patting his hand as she exited the carriage. Swallowing his nerves, Canada did the same.

They walked into the building where Canada saw Britain, surrounded by several of his grandmother's islands and some unfamiliar ones. Spain was there, too, and Canada recognized Spanish Florida, who looked happy to be here, a strange sight since most of the colonies looked nervous and apprehensive.

"France," Britain said in English before switching to French, "Are you ready to sign the treaty?"

The Kingdom of France nodded before speaking again. "I am giving you Canada, all territories east of the Mississippi, Dominica, Grenada, Saint Vincent, the Grenadines, Tobago, and all captured territories. In return, you give me back my Indian factories, Guadeloupe, Martinique, Saint Lucia, and Gorée."

Canada walked over to Britain as his grandmother said that, careful to keep his head bowed so as not to agitate him. His Aunt Dominica grabbed his hand as he did so, squeezing it gently before letting go.

"You give me back Manila and Havana, and I will give you back all British territory I captured, along with Spanish Florida." Spain then said, his voice sounding annoyed, his eyes scanning over the colonies being given to Britain.

Spain then signed the treaty, followed by my grandmother and Britain. As soon as Canada's grandmother signed it, he tried not to break into tears, knowing that his father had just died.

"Well, now that this is over with, get out of my country, Britain," My Grandmother said, "I think you have some colonies to get set up in that hideous place you call a home."

Britain nodded before walking out the door, and Canada nervously followed him, but not before turning around and looking at his grandmother and family one last time.

"Now I expect you all to learn English quickly, as I don't appreciate other languages spoken in my home. Now that you are a part of my country, you are expected to act like it." Britain said, his voice stern but not unkind. It wasn't like how Canada imagined him to be, and the part of him that was convinced Britain was a good person was singing in delight. Almost as if he could read his mind, Britain turned to face Canada with a small smile, "I expect you to be the best Quebec and to help the new colonies learn."

"Why me?" Canada asked as he gripped his bag tighter. Britain frowned at that.

"I don't appreciate being questioned, but you're new, and I know you'll learn well. After all, most of your people were mine, and they want you to succeed just as much as I do. You're already British, Quebec. All you need is a bit of guidance." Britain said.

And despite himself, Ca–Quebec smiled.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.