Cursed

Chapter 7

Explicit scene ahoy!

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Old, withered books were scattered about England's desk as he sifted through his shelf of spells. He had yet to find anything pertaining to America's predicament and was becoming weary. What if there was no cure and his former colony was stuck like this for the rest of his life? He would be having to fight off perverted nations right and left for him, and that was not something he wanted to do every G7 or World Meeting. Yet, he was nowhere near close to giving up. He just needed more time.

As England started on the lower shelf of the bookcase, he noticed one of the books were ajar, sticking out slightly. England raised a curious eyebrow. He hadn't touched his sorcery room in years. He took this as a sign to pluck it out and read through it. It didn't look like there was anything of interest until he flipped to the second-to-last page. Written in Latin, there was a small description on the page that described a palace guard who was cursed by a witch because she was not allowed to collect money for selling items in the marketplace, just for simply being a woman. Her spell was supposed to fully turn him into a woman, but backfired and only changed his genitals. Underneath the story was the actual spell that the witch had used on the guard, but there was one problem. There was no cure or reverse spell listed.

"How peculiar," England thought. This was a bit of a pickle. All that searching just to arrive at a dead end. He let out a frustrated sigh. At the very least, he had the actual spell used to curse America. However, there was only one question remaining: Who did this to him?

The Englishman shook his head. If he didn't have anything on his end, maybe there existed other interpretations of the spell. He had to make a few calls.

Before starting on that, he looked back to his den and scowled. He had made quite the mess searching through his collection. Certainly, he'd have to clean up a bit first.

Shit. Shit. Shit! Canada was going to kill him. Prussia had messed up. He couldn't get to his friend in time and now France was going to get his froggy hands all over him. Still in the buffet parking lot, he stared at his phone and dreaded what he was about to do. He dialed Canada's number and let out a bated breath.

"Hello, Gilbert," He heard the man on the other end say. "How did everything go?"

Prussia gulped nervously before responding. "About that, I've got bad news and good news."

There was a brief pause on the other line before Canada responded. "Okay. What's the good news?"

"There was heavy traffic after I left, but I just now got here."

"And the bad news?"

"I- er, got to them too late, and they're not heading back to the meeting..." Prussia hoped the Canadian would understand. He heard a frustrated sigh through the speaker.

Canada pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hold in his anger. It wasn't Prussia's fault for not getting to his brother in time. "Do you have any idea where they are going to now?"

"Knowing France, my best guess is a hotel room."

"Shit. I'll check Alfred's room in a bit if they went there. If not, I'll go to France's hotel." Thankfully the Frenchman had told him where he was staying when they first arrived at the airport.

"Do you want me to go to France's place instead?" Prussia thoughtfully asked.

"No, it's fine. If anything, you can go to the last-half of the meeting and cover for all of us. I know your brother is going to be pissed when it turns out that we're not there."

Prussia winced at that. He knew that West was going to be at his throat and most likely blame him for this incident based on his slip-up from when America didn't go back to yesterday's meeting. "I'll try my best." He hesitatingly assured his friend.