When my father burst into the room, everyone instantly got quiet. It didn't take a genius to see that Father was mad.
Both his hair and his tie had somehow become a mess overnight, which was odd because Father never let his outfit become anything other than crisp. His eyes had a fire in them, burning so brightly that I could tell he wasn't just mad, he was extremely pissed off, and if I was lucky I would get to watch him yell at someone who wasn't me.
He grumbled something about Ireland, Scotland and beer, before finally looking up to see all the people at the table.
"What the bloody hell are you all still doing here?!" Father exclaimed, frustrated.
"Mom told them they could stay over." Canada answered, his voice shaky.
Father whipped around to stare at Canada, and my brother cowered down under his glare. They stayed for a second, before Father sighed, and looked away. "Of course she did." Then he turned to Argentina, Chile, Mexico, Peru, and Brazil. "Finish your breakfast and then get out."
The distant family all nodded, eyes wide in fear, before trying to eat their remaining food as fast as they could.
Father didn't sit down, he just stood in the same place staring at them, which only made them eat faster.
I shared a glance with my brothers, all of us thinking the same thing.
What was he mad about this time?
There was a moment where no one spoke, and the only sounds in the room came from the scraping of silverware against the plates.
It didn't take very long for our family to finish their breakfast, especially since my father was basically forcing them to hurry up. When they were all finished, they practically ran out of the dining hall, eager to get out of my father's sight before he exploded on them.
Once they'd left, Father finally sat down in his usual spot at the head of the table. Luckily no one had sat in his seat, they would have had their head chewed off before they even saw it coming.
A best passed before Australia cleared his throat and spoke.
"So, Dad, what... happened?" There was definitely some hesitation in his voice, but I had to give him props for asking.
"Your uncles Ireland and Scotland are complete and utter fools." Britain said, clearly not in the mood to talk about it.
More silence.
Clearly Father noticed this, and he looked up and snapped at us, "Don't just sit there like statues! Talk!"
We still didn't talk.
Father sighed, rather loudly and frustratedly. "America. Tell me, did you meet anyone at the ball? Anyone catch your interest?"
"Yes, actually." I answered, thinking back to those amber eyes yet again.
"There you go! I knew you'd find someone eventually." Britain smiled, and looked over at Australia, probably to criticize him for leaving the ball as early as he did.
I couldn't focus. My father, King Britain, had found my efforts at the back acceptable! And not only that, but I had impressed him, even when he was so angry at his brothers he could probably stab them.
I felt like I was floating.
I had made my father happy with my efforts.
For the first time in two years, Father hadn't looked at me like I was a disgrace to the family name.
The whole rest of breakfast I couldn't focus. Even when my mother came in and Father started arguing with her about letting our family stay over. I only focused on the conversation when I hear the names Spain and Mexico being thrown around.
YOU ARE READING
The Masquerade
Fanfiction"Leave." It was a simple word, spoken softly but with fury. "You are dismissed." As I turned to leave, Father grabbed his tea cup, and clenched it. Father never mistreated his tea cups. I had made him mad. No, the emotion was more than mad. It w...
