Bigger Army Diplomacy

IX

         "Lovely day,"

"Mhm,"

England stared at the beautifully written letter. Yet the message was less than.

A letter to a guest in their house. To Normandy, signed by a Vichy. Which, obviously wasn't something they wanted, considering the contents of the message. Long, yes. full of unnecessary information, yes. But disturbing? Also yes. Very disturbing.

A slightly unsettled Scotland tried to steer her husband away with the beautiful way with words she had the gift of, thinking it was just a simple declaration of war. Obviously, it wasn't, because the words that would normally soothe him were just making him more agitated.

"What does it say?"

The disturbed king showed Scotland the letter, which she read over and over until it was committed to memory. Well, she would've, if a young woman hadn't come barreling down the stairs, followed by Scotland's son actually coming down the stairs safely.

"Hi Mrs. Scotland!" France yelled, most likely waking up the entire household.

"Be quiet!" Jack hissed. "People are sleeping!"

"Not my problem!"

France sat down at the table and looked at the two parents, who were currently staring at her with a look of distrust. "Why the cold face?" She asked, but then dropped the subject, much to Scotland's delight.

As the young woman ate some breakfast happily, Scotland wondered how this young woman could be hatching a plot to kill her and her whole family. Then she realized that the letter was addressed to a Normandy, not France, and perhaps the young lady didn't even know about this. Guilty until proven innocent, Scotland supposed.

Until Normandy came down the stairs, Scotland kept the same coolness that she possessed in situations like this.

But when Normandy showed her face near the two, all hell broke loose.

Well, it was so icy that you could perhaps say all English weather broke loose.

Firstly, Normandy came down with all the iceiness she usually had, but what was different was that Scotland also had an air of ice around her. Not noticeable enough for cheerful France or Jack to notice, but enough. Enough to make England and Scotland come to a silent agreement.

We will not tell Normandy about this letter.

Meanwhile, on the other side of France, a man named Vichy was constantly pacing around his desk, waiting for a response from the woman he 'loved'.

No such letter ever came.

Damn you! He thought. Damn you for getting your daughter married off to some prince in the kingdom that we so desperately hate!

This wouldn't work. He knew that, after repeating these thoughts to himself for going on a week now.

But what about France?

This caught him off guard. Anyone who was anyone knew he only cared about success, not the pitiful excuse of a daughter that he had.

A door opened. "Uh, sir, do you want your tea?"

Vichy stared at the servant. She appeared to be new, for Vichy had not seen her before. She was anxiously rubbing her feet together, and he avoided the need to tell her to stand up straight. Instead, he waved the tea in and noticed the look of relief on her face as if she did nothing wrong.

Just to have a little bit of fun, he stopped her as she was coming out the door. "What is your name?" He asked with a disapproving look on his face as if he was going to ask Paris to write her up.

"Avignon, sir!" She squeaked.

"Thank you, you may go now."

After taking a small sip of the beverage, he looked outside just to spot several crows.

Good grief. Vichy thought. As if my day couldn't get any worse.

It could get worse, he realized as he saw a letter addressed to... well, him on the corner of his table. He supposed that the little girl from earlier had delivered it, but he checked all the parts it, just in case. It looked pretty safe.

He opened it.

Vichy,

As you can see, I did not get your letter, however, I received the other one you sent me, and I must say, that is truly disturbing, the fact that someone would do something that atrocious, though I do admit I do not care, for I have never lived in that palace.

Both England and Scotland have been avoiding me for the better part of the day, and it leads me to believe a servant had handed your letter to them and they read it, those (excuse me) pigs.

I do see the good in your plan, though I must suggest a few things I have observed.

They both are very attached to Wales and Northern Ireland, to take them away would crush their souls.

From the outside, the city looks impenetrable, but there are many ways to get in from in the back.

These are some of my tips, best of luck and many the odds ever be in your favor.

Normandy