Everlasting War - Rusame

<Chapter 2 - Muscovy>

"Папа?"(Dad).

A man was checking almost every room, everyone, everything, just trying to find his father. He asked every guard he saw if they knew where he was. He checked in his study, the library, his chambers, with his mother, and the throne room, but nothing.

"Отец?"(Father). The tall male asked loudly again, becoming more desperate. He wanted to make sure his dad was still there, as he hadn't seen him in a few days, hinting at the fact he's left for battle.

"Отец, я еще не могу быть царем. Где ты?"(Father, I can't be tsar yet. Where are you?). The man was panicking, but he knew he wasn't ready. If a country lost their leader during a war and left the responsibility to his twenty year old son or his pregnant wife, that would make the kingdom look vulnerable. "Отец? Я должен скоро уехать в Хаиль!"(Father? I have to leave for Ha'il soon!)

The man was not wanting to give up yet. He burst into the nursery which housed his two youngest siblings and soon, the newest member once they're born. There he found his mother reading her daughters a book.

He quickly looked around, saying, Мать, ты видела отца где-нибудь?" (Mother, have you seen Father anywhere?) His voice didn't hide the panic under his accent anymore. Once she shook her head, he left. He was out of options. He couldn't leave to the village to check, he had to remain hidden.

The man stood in the middle of the corridor defeated. He wore a blue uniform with matching slacks. A thin, bronze-gold cord draped from his shoulder and into his coat, the tassels of the shoulder boards hiding its origin. He wore five medals across his chest and a medal on his neck. A belt hugged his waist, and a fur hat sat on his head, folded up so he wouldn't get too hot. At the time, though, it looked messy. His hair was messy and frizzy, his sabre was missing, the ties to his shoes weren't tucked, his fur hat was facing off to the left slightly, one medal was angled downwards and another wasn't touching the other ones, a pitiful look for a crown prince. His flag contained three bars, a white bar on top, a blue bar in the middle, and a red bar on the bottom.

   "Сэр."(Sir)

   The distressed male turned to face a guard, his uniform looking much better than his. The guard stood in front of him, waiting for the response of the crown prince.

   "Сербия, у вас есть новости для меня?" (Serbia, do you have news for me?) The prince asked, trying his best to sound professional, again failing.

   "Его Королевское Высочество попросил, чтобы я привел вас в деревню.Он попросил, чтобы вы были одеты как охранник."(His Royal Highness requested I bring you to the village. He requested you be dressed as a guard.)

   "Я вижу, ну, я поменяю пальто, а потом мы уйдем."(I see, well, I'll change my coat then we'll leave.) The prince responded, a wave of relief flooding him. His father was just in the village.

   The guard nodded and turned away and Russia left to his room. He quickly fixed his hair, changed his coat into a guard coat, and grabbed his sabre. He had this outfit in case guests came, as he wasn't even allowed to be seen by other royals, only guards in the castle. No heir was different, the same rules applied to them. All the people knew was vague descriptions his family gave them. Once he was ready, he fixed his fur hat and left to meet back up with the guard.

   "Хорошо, Сербия, мы можем уйти сейчас. Ведите за собой."(Alright Serbia, we can leave now. Lead the way). The prince, thankfully, had a much better time containing his excitement. He had never left castle grounds. He was born just after his eldest brother said that he wouldn't be crown prince, giving it up to the next brother to be born, which just so happened to be him.

   The village which surrounded the castle was bustling with people, but the prince noted it was mainly women and children. Very few men lingered around. He came to the conclusion that other villages in the kingdom were struggling the same. He tried not to look like it was his first time, keeping his head straight ahead, but his eyes wandered freely.

   "Ваше Величество, он в этом здании. Позже он встречается с королем Британии, поэтому он хотел не пускать его в замок." (Your Majesty, he's in this building. He's meeting with the King of Britannia later, so he wanted to keep him out the castle.) The guard whispered to the prince, leading him into a building.

   He took him up some stairs and into a room, and there he was, the King in all his glory. Russia felt relieved that he wasn't tricked, that his father was still there and well.

   "Россия, сын мой! Приезжайте сюда, нам нужно поговорить."(Russia, my son! Come here, we need to talk.)

   Russia walked over to his father and sat in the chair next to him.

   "In English, we don't need the guards outside hearing," his father spoke after a minute, his accent still heavy.

   "What did you need, Father?"

   "So, you know you're going to Ha'il, but you don't know why. Well, in case Britain and I's negotiations don't end well, you'll meet his son and discuss terms."

   "Father, I believe I'm not supposed to be seen. Am I supposed to wear like a veil during these negotiations?" Russia asked, tensing up.

   "I know, it's technically not allowed, but you will be in Ha'il for two months for those negotiations. Both of you will show yourselves to each other, and you'll find a way to get me that damn land."

   "Has the Sultan of Ha'il agreed?"

   "We wouldn't send you there if he didn't, Russia," his father said harshly. "Use your brain, тупой." (Dumbass)

   Russia nodded, allowing his head to hang a bit. He felt a bit dumb after asking that question, but he just wanted to make sure. Two months was a lot, and that means he'd be away from family for a while.

   "Their son is said to be extremely intelligent, you need to be careful. Hell, if you need to, try to charm him, but no agreeing to marry anyone in his family, even him."

   "Папа, why would I do that? That's ending two kingdoms with no direct heirs."(Dad)

   "Exactly my point," he responded. "Go back to the castle, Serbia will take you to Ha'il tonight."

   "Да, отец." (Yes, Father.)