Spirit of the Nation ★ Female America

6. Prussia's Glory

June 12, 1812

Palace of Versailles

Versailles, France

I stifled a giggle behind my hand as France pulled me along behind a row of marble statues. As usual, the servants pretended to ignore the fact that we were carrying on like children. He shushed me over his shoulder with a handsome smile.

"Allez, ma petite," he laughed, tugging on my hand. "They are already here."

A lot had changed since my first trip to France.

Napoleon Bonaparte, a king in all but name, had led the French Republic into a ten-year war with the British Empire. His other war with the Kingdom of Prussia had recently come to a peaceful end, which had launched the two nations to war against their mutual enemy, the Russian Empire.

Meanwhile, a war of our own was brewing in the Atlantic. As the British grew desperate for resources to throw at France, they began to seize American merchant ships and conscript sailors into the Royal Navy against their will. By the summer of 1812, we reached a breaking point; President Madison begged Congress to declare war. And dispatched a delegation to France to beg for their support.

Little did we know just how financially destitute our ally had become.

In short, the situation was dire. However, France treated it as more of a holiday than anything.

We finally arrived on the sunny balcony overlooking the courtyard. I leaned my hands on the limestone railing, grateful for the burst of fresh air on my face. I breathed in deeply, and then I froze when I heard the sound of music on the breeze.

A grand military parade was preceding the arrival of the Prussian delegation. Pounding drums and clashing symbols triumphantly filled the air as regiments by the hundreds marched onto the palace grounds. Their uniforms were trimmed with gold and their ranks were tight and neat. Every soldier stepped together in perfect form. It was the most impressive sight I had ever witnessed.

A lump rose in my throat at my utter insignificance in the world. Even the much-lauded Louisiana Purchase couldn't put us on par with nations such as these. Prussia was a Great Power, one of only six in the world. Along with England, Austria, Turkey, Russia, and, of course, France.

I looked over at him. He was leaning his chin on his hand in boredom as he watched the spectacle below. The breeze swept his hair away from his face and ruffled his white linen shirt.

"I shall never be as powerful as the likes of you," I murmured.

Glancing at me in surprise, he gave a reproachful hum. "Amérique, you are but thirty years old. I am well over eight hundred. Prusse...almost three hundred."

My eyes drifted downward. A sense of longing filled my chest. "Even so..."

France suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed. I followed the line of his eyes to a small entourage emerging at the front. "King Friedrich Wilhelm," he said in a mocking German accent. "You see that man in the ridiculous pointy hat? That is Prusse."

My eyes became fixed on him in awe. The thought of meeting such a powerful Nation intimidated me.

"Won't he be mad that you're not there to greet him?"

"As mad as a rabid dog," he said with a smug grin. "But...he has good humor, unlike Holy Roman Empire. God rest his wicked soul."

I laughed. I continued to watch Prussia and the King as they greeted Emperor Napoleon and his entourage. After a minute, I felt a soft caress on my arm. I gasped and looked over at France.

He was watching me intently. His fingers slid slowly down my arm to the back of my hand, raising goosebumps on my bare skin. Gently scooping up my hand, he brought it to his lips.

"I can think of something I would much rather be doing."

I smiled sheepishly.

Letting myself fall back, I landed on the luxurious softness of satin bedsheets. I then propped myself up on my elbows to watch France take off his shoes at the end of the bed. He held my gaze mischievously as he did so, hopping on one leg at a time. I laughed breathlessly.

"Come," I said, holding out my hand.

He took it and climbed over me with a happy noise in his throat. Stradling me, he cupped my face with both hands and looked deeply into my eyes. His thumb stroked my cheek. "Tu es si belle," he whispered.

Though I didn't understand, I savored his words. His lips finally met mine, and I melted back into the mattress. My arms reached around his neck and my fingers threaded through his soft curls. I felt a flame of desire curl through me as he pressed his body into mine.

But before long, he pulled back. He hovered over me with an unusually serious look in his eyes. "Ma petite...," he trailed off and looked away, at a loss for words.

I shook my head. "What is it?"

"Tomorrow..." He sighed in exasperation and let his head fall into my neck. "Je suis désolé."

I blinked in confusion. "What's wrong...?"

"Tomorrow...la république française will send a letter to Washington," he said reluctantly. "A declaration of neutrality."

My eyes widened in utter shock. Every sensation drained from my body as I processed the news.

"But...but, France..."

"I am sorry," he mumbled into my skin. "It is not what I hoped for."

Not knowing how to react, I lay there paralyzed. My instincts pulled me this way and that, halfway between striking him and hugging him. As the reality of the situation became clear, a pang of fear stabbed through me. I squeezed my eyes shut.

We are going to war with the British Empire...alone.

~

Allez | Come on!

Tu es si belle | You are so beautiful.

Je suis désolé | I'm sorry.