A/N: I was trying to write Gone, but I got the song Let the Record Show by Emilie Autumn stuck in my head (I don't think it helped that I had been listening to it for about thirty minutes though). So I decided to take a break and write this, because if I didn't, I wouldn't finish it, and if I didn't finish that story, I wouldn't be able to finish 100 ways, or post two other stories I just recently finished.

So, without further ado, enjoy my amazing one shot!

Disclaimer: Hetalia, consider yourself disclaimed.

The weary queen collapsed into her thrown and let out another huff. Had this been any other day, she would have screamed, and probably hung herself from a tree in the garden. But she couldn't do that, at least not now. Maybe tomorrow… she thought wearily.

Of course, at her weakest moment, her lady in waiting rushed in, and grabbed her by the neck of her dress. She was a strong woman, who did most of the work around the castle, constantly raging that the servants couldn't do their jobs right. She was so strong, that she once lifted up her entire throne just to grab a toddler version of the queen out from underneath it.

So of course, Elizaveta dragged the queen into a dressing room halfway across the castle, and had stripped away her dress she'd worn into the village. "Miss, I wished you would have come with me sooner. Your bath is cold, and now we will need to keep your hair down, if we are to continue with the ceremony as planned."

Of course, Natalia had tuned out. She was to marry the young prince of Cemaria, as to join her kingdom, Leburias, and theirs. Yet, Natalia hated the man with a flaming passion. He was arrogant, self-absorbed, conceited, a pig, and beyond anything else, he was an idiot.

"Natalia, are you listening?!" Elizaveta snapped. Natalia looked up in shock, realizing that Elizaveta asked her something. "Did you need something?"

Her Lady in waiting let out an exaggerated sigh and said, "Is he really so bad?" Natalia nodded vigorously, and thought about her previous internal monologue. "He's horrible."

Elizaveta shook her head. "Does he treat you right? Has he tried to hurt you, or push too far?" Natalia shook her head. "Well then, we're out of luck. We could make up some dramatic story about he tried to take you in the garden, but I came out with my frying pan just in time. Would that please you?"

Natalia laughed. Elizaveta and she used to be the greatest trouble makers of all time when they were younger. Being as Leburias was such a small country, she had known all of her citizens, and had played with many of the village children after she'd finished her studies. Since day one, Elizaveta and she caused trouble whenever they were together. They made up ridiculous stories to cover for each other, and had often used this skill of theirs to sway willing tourists into giving them money, acting as orphaned children.

Elizaveta shook her head. "No, that would please you far too much. Can't have you getting too comfortable with me helping you so much. Now get into the tub," she ordered. Natalia nodded, stripping away her remaining garments, and stepping into the cold water. It smelt like lavender.

Elizaveta rolled up her sleeves, and dipped her hands into the water, rolling a bar of soap in her hands. Once the suds covered the surface of the soap completely, she began to rub it onto Natalia's back, and into her hair. It was massaged into her neck, down her shoulders, and across her arms. She took the bar of soap and lazily rubbed it across her chest and legs. She handed the soap back unwillingly, loving the sweet scent of flowers it brought, and submersed herself completely into the water.

Maybe I could drown myself now. She thought bitterly. It could be labeled as an accident and I would be missed terribly… I wouldn't have to deal with the Cemarian idiot. But she still came up, knowing very well that if she died now, he would still become king to her kingdom, and she would never wish that upon her subjects.

She slowly rose from the water, and let Elizaveta wrap a towel around her shoulders. As each second passed, the branches in the courtyard would be so inviting, if she could only find a decent rope… But she had to do this for her people. She needed to continue to remind herself of that. If she didn't she would lose the strength to continue.

Elizaveta began to dry her off, and sat her down in front of a vanity mirror. And the term vanity fit perfectly. It was a god awful thing, with an ugly contrast of red, white and blue decorating it. She hated the color white. It was a plain and simple color, and to be forced to have something in her own dressing room made her sick. This was her wedding gift from that insufferable idiot, because he knew girls loved to look at their own reflection. She wished she'd hit him then, and there. But she couldn't do that now…

Elizaveta began to brush out her hair and hum a lullaby that most of the children knew from when they were still in training cloths. She braided Natalia's hair down her back, and began to decorate it with small weeds. They were the gorgeous ones that would grow in golden clumps on the sides of roads, where horses didn't graze, and where travelers didn't camp. They were very common throughout Leburias, and Elizaveta thought gold was a beautiful color on Natalia. So she naturally allowed Elizaveta to decorate her in the color.

Elizaveta lightly dusted a white color over her face, and began to repaint her features on with a skilled hand. She drew a beautiful curling design on the corner of one eye, to cup Natalia's eye from both top and bottom. She then painted her lips a peach pink, and her eye lids a pure yellow. Her cheeks were pinched roughly to add color, and her eye brows plucked quickly.

She felt tears fill her eyes as she was forced to stand up, and the towel was forced away from her, and she was handed her under garments. She dressed as she could, and then slipped into a pure white corset dress. This had to be a nightmare… She was marrying someone she hated beyond comprehension, was going to lose her best friend, being as a lady in waiting lived out their usefulness after the queen was married, and she would have to go through all this terror in the horrid color of white.

Elizaveta hugged her and whispered in her ear. "I hate to see your sorrows…"

Natalia choked back the tears. "Hear me now, Elizaveta. If I act, they won't see the girl behind the throne. They only see a personification of confidence, as a queen needs to be. But, I'm scared. And for them to see deeper is not so worthwhile. Part of me says that this is where I need to be, but it will not make me happy.

"I'm telling you this because I know I can't handle it so easily on my own. Will you stay beside me, just in case?"

Elizaveta had tears running down her face, a smile visible through the water. She nodded and hugged her friend closer. Natalia would not lose her to this dreaded ceremony, even if she would lose herself.

Natalia allowed Elizaveta to tighten the corset dress as tight as possible, and waited as she fetched the dress and its cage. She knew it would probably have several petticoats, and that she would die of overheating, if she didn't kill herself before the ceremony. She sat at the vanity, and looked at herself in the mirror.

She could consider herself beautiful, easily. The platinum blonde hair and blue eyes were something herself and her sister shared, before her sister had passed away. She was never meant to be queen. Her sister would have been happy listening to the idiot prattle on about his heroic ventures. She was always the kinder of the two.

She missed her family.

Elizaveta rushed in, carrying a bag with what could only be her dress in it. She first pulled out the cage, and began to assemble it with deft hands. She slipped it over Natalia's thin frame, and began to pile on a collection of petticoats. It made her want to vomit. Had she had her way, she would wear a simple blue dress, and leave her hair undone, held back by only her favorite bow. But she let Elizaveta pile on the over ruffled skirts, and le ther dig through the bag, looking for the dress.

Of course, when Elizaveta had pulled out the dress, Natalia wanted to die. Or at least, more so than before. It was her mother's.

It was beautiful shade of blue, with long sleeves, made of a shimmering satin material. It was laced with gold, and it's front had to be tight, over top the corset. She remembered the dress well because her sister had worn it for her wedding. As her mother, and many other women in their family.

Natalia could feel memories she'd long since wanted to forget resurface. She knew it had been far too long since she'd been allowed to dwell on her far too recent, and bitter past, but she didn't want to think about it now of all times.

Elizaveta smiled, as if understanding the inner turmoil Natalia had been thrust into. She helped her into it and pushed in front of the mirror. Natalia had to admit that if this was the marriage of someone she loved, she would've been overjoyed. She looked like a medieval princess, with the pale skin, rosy cheeks, and form fitting dress. But she couldn't let go of the thought that she was doing this for someone she hated.

"You're beautiful… I'm so proud of you…" Elizaveta whispered. She held her hands, cupped against her lips, her eyes watering again. Natalia nodded. She wasn't proud of herself though.

Natalia couldn't remember anything specific after that. She put on a pair of shoes. She was led out into the village, her subjects surrounding her, walking with her. Being forced to wait behind a closed door. Elizaveta holding her arm, leading her down the aisle.

All she could think was how she was marrying the idiot, and how she would be stuck with him forever. She looked to Elizaveta, who was now crying freely, not even trying to wipe away the tears away. "I'm sorry… But I'm so proud of you," she whispered. Natalia nodded. She heard the organ play and that was the cue to walk down the aisle.

She put on a false smile, thinking of that still-inviting tree and rope in the gardens. Alfred F. Jones stood proudly at the altar, wearing an all-white tuxedo with a deep red tie and a blue handkerchief in his breast pocket. He gave her a heart-warming smile, winking when she looked his way. It made her want to gag. But she smiled on, and stood next to him at the altar. His hand found hers, and they were intertwined. She heard coos of approval from the crowd, that made her sick.

Elizaveta relinquished her to Alfred, and stood off to the side, crying harder.

The priest was an elderly man, with snow white hair and a beard to match. It reach down to his lower regions and was fluffy and thin haired. He had sky blue eyes, and paper-like skin. He was dressed in deep violet robes with crescent moon spectacles perched on a long, bird-like nose. He was obviously Cemarian, with his bulging stomach and sausage-like fingers.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of these two young folks. The queen of Leburias, Natalia Barginski, and Alfred Jones, prince of Cemaria. Is there anyone who objects to this union?" his voice boomed. The room lay silent. He was about to continue, when a louder voice spoke up.

"I OBJECT!"

Natalia turned; ready to thank whoever had the audacity to interrupt the union of two important countries. But her face fell, seeing that it was no one that could save her.

A girl with long black hair, and a heart shaped face stood up, raising her left hand up in the air, her right hand clenched up into a fist next to her small chest. She wore a long sleeve pink kimono with slits up both sides, exposing olive skinned, slim thighs. She had bright blue eyes, which was odd for a girl from Waitan, and a pink flower sitting in her hairline. She had tears pouring down her rounded cheeks, and mascara following those thin, silver trails.

"You can marry Mei instead, Alfred!" she announced. Most of the people from Cemaria seemed unfazed by the girl, but all the nobles of Leburias were astounded.

Alfred shook his head and let out a low chuckle that only the priest, Elizaveta and herself could hear. "I'm sorry Mei, but I can't. I love Natalia!" he said, loud enough for her to hear. Her eyes widened, and more tears poured down her face.

"But… Alfred, I-"

"No Mei, I love her, and that is all I could ever need," Arthur barked, a cruel gleam in his eye as he gave Mei an acid smile. Mei turned bright pink- the color of her kimono –yet say another word. She gave a slight nod, and rushed down the aisle, and out the church door.

Alfred turned back to the priest and shook his head. "I'm sorry father, for the interruption. Please continue, sir." The priest gave a suspicious nod to the young Cemarian prince, yet continued his preachings. "Is there anyone else who objects this union?" When the priest was answered with silence, he continued on.

"Do you, Alfred Jones, take this woman, Natalia Belvok, as your lawfully wedded wife, through sickness and health, 'till death do you part?"

Alfred gave a solemn nod. "I do."

"And do you, Natalia Belvok, take this man, Alfred Jones, as your lawfully wedded husband, through sickness and health, 'till death do you part?"

Natalia hesitated. Is this what she wanted? If she married Alfred, her country would become fabulously wealthy, and she would be able to deal with all the terrifying debts from Sursia, but she would also make many enemies, including the terribly powerful military kingdom, Gennald, a permanent enemy of Cemaria.

But my country will be fabulously wealthy… And that's what was important to Natalia. She may be a strict and passionate ruler, but she was also willing to die for her people. And this, by far, was worse than death.

And yet, he said he loved her. Did he really mean that? She was so confused, yet she knew, even if he didn't this was best…

"I do…" she choked, her words barely a whisper. But she couldn't be sad, she reminded herself, as tears poured down her face. So she looked up and smiled at Alfred, a fake, beaming smile. "I do!" she said louder. He smiled and cupped her cheek, wiping away tears.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!" Of course, everyone stood up, preparing to cheer. For Natalia, the world seemed frozen. She scanned the audience of golden blondes and haystack brunettes, sapphire and moss green eyes. But, before she turned to face Alfred, she saw beautiful, violet eyes peeking in from the open door, a tuft of cloud colored hair in it's way. With wide eyes, she turned back to Alfred, and kissed him.

He tasted like a banquet had been living in his teeth for months, so his breath naturally smelt strange. His lips were wet and sticky, obvious that he hadn't used any lip balm, so he had been licking them. His teeth kept clashing against hers, and his lips almost peeled back, not wanting to get any makeup on his lips.

When they pulled away, everyone cheered and screamed. Natalia turned to the crowd and saw those violet eyes once more, disappearing behind the door. Before she could try to follow him- though she didn't know how she would manage to get out –the crowd seemed to abduct them, and walk them up to the castle. Both husband and wife were attacked with congratulations and handshakes.

Once they had made it up to the castle, it'd felt like the world had isolated them in. It made Natalia sick to be in the room with Alfred for too long, even if it was with the maids and butlers peeking behind pillars, waiting to see them do something, or rather, each other. But Natalia stomped off, like a child, and decided to sequester in her room for the remainder of the day.

She stripped away the dress, and other multiple layers, threw the shoes into a corner of the room, and ripped out the flowers in her hair, as well as clumps of her hair to go with it. She pulled out a black ribbon from one of her drawers, and tied her hair back, then washed away her makeup.

Looking at herself in her mirror, naked and vulnerable, made her want to cry. She could see where the corset had been pulling too hard on her waist, leaving red marks and black bruises all over her stomach. Where the underdresses and cage had hung off her breast and hips, were more bruises and marks. Her skin was an overall shade of pink from the damage, as well as the heat the dress carried. Her hair was limp and soaked with oil and sweat, and she felt so broken and weak. But, maybe that's exactly what she was now.

She was at the arrogant prince's mercy, as well as the rest of her kingdom. At any moment, he could kill all her people, try them unfairly, and send them to the guillotine, or even the pikes. She was expected to provide him many strong and healthy children, and to pleasure and please him. She was now only a decoration, and if he chose, she could stay chained to wall, for him to ravage when he pleased.

She wouldn't live like that, not for anyone. With a sudden determination, she slipped into a sapphire tunic, with white breeches and black traveler's boots. She braided her hair up, and capped it off with a black cap. With a final, disappointed look at herself in the mirror, she opened her window, and climbed onto the ledge. She swung herself out the window, and carefully dropped herself onto the ground. She tip-toed around the side of the building, and into the gardens.

Of course, the gardens were her favorite part of the entire kingdom. It was all sunflowers, and yellow roses, surrounding a beautiful maze. In the middle of the maze was what was once a beautiful apple tree, but ever since her parents and older sister tied, it looked like a hanging tree. It had a strong rope hanging from it that she used to swing from when she was little. She climbed up the tree, and began to pull the robe up from its tether at the top.

She quickly wound it into a knot, slipping it over her head. She took a deep breath, and smiled at the ground. Even if she died right here, she could say she died happy. She died as herself. She pulled her hair out of the cap, and shook it out of it's braid.

She wouldn't be ravaged. She wouldn't bear children. She wouldn't be a decoration. She wouldn't have to worry about anyone but herself. She would be with her family again. She let her foot leave the branch and she was about to jump.

"Wait miss. Would you happen to be the mistress of this castle?" a voice asked, cold as steel, yet as liquid as mercury.

She looked down, and slipped from the branch. As she fell, she saw the beautiful violet eyes from the chapel, and a child-like smile, with all the innocence and cruelty of children. He looked at her with an awkward kind of curiosity, and suddenly, she couldn't feel the strain of the rope around her neck. The boy, who looked to be her age, smiled and slipped it from her throat.

He was extremely tall, with a muscled upper body, and lean, long legs. His skin was a beautiful pale color, like fresh milk, without a flaw marring its smooth spaces. His almost-white hair was fluffy, and damp- from sweat, she assumed –and was parted more so to the left, his bangs covering the sides of his face. His violet eyes reminded her of flame, the way they danced and seemed to call out to her. He wore only an undershirt, that clung to his muscled figure, and light brown trousers, that she'd only seen servants wear. But around his neck was a white and beige scarf, tied around his neck, covering his collar bone.

"You are the mistress of this castle, da?" he asked, helping her off the ground. She let out a breath of air, and realizing she wouldn't be able to speak for some time, nodded. He smiled at her, tilting his head to the side like a child would. "Well, my name is Ivan. Ivan Braginski. I am the new gardener. Alfred had brought me with him when he came to live here, da."

Natalia sighed and attempted to speak. "You planted the flowers?" Her voice was rough and weak, and seemed to resonate through her throat, making the sound quieter than usual. He nodded.

"Alfred had sent them here, just before the wedding, and asked me to plant these for you. He also told me I was going to be like his personal assistant, because he knows he kind of an idiot, and he wants to be a good husband to you." Ivan seemed sincere when he said this, but didn't seem to understand something.

"What's wrong?" Natalia croaked, her throat aching. Ivan peered his eyes at her, as if looking deep into her soul.

"You dislike Alfred, da?" he asked. She nodded. He smiled but shook his head, as if in disappointment. "He is not all that bad. He is obnoxious, and dramatic, but he has good intentions. He wants you to feel safe around him. And though many would believe a new king could easily manipulate the kingdom, he isn't very manipulative. At least, he's not smart enough to be."

Natalia considered this. Of course, it may have been a tad dramatic to think that he would rape her, and use her. But maybe she was wrong…

Ivan smiled again. "Well, maybe you two could become better acquainted. I happen to know he's in his room now. I shall bring you to him!" he said with a giggle. Natalia shrugged and smiled. He led her out of the garden, through beautiful corridors, and to where Alfred's room was located.

He stood outside the door and smiled, smiling a child's smile. She blushed, unknowingly, and ran a hand through her bangs. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled. "For now, until I die, I will be here to help no matter what. So think of me as your big brother, okay?"

She nodded, and turned, knocking on Alfred's door. As soon as the door was opened, Ivan was gone, and Alfred seemed surprised by her appearance. Then he frowned. "What do you want? Come to yell at me some more?" he asked, bitterly.

She winced. She knew she had been terrible to him, but she didn't intend on hurting him so horribly. "I came… To apologize…" she muttered, looking down. If she spoke to loudly, she would hurt her throat again, and he would notice the strain.

His eyes widened and he gestured for him to come in. He sat on the bed and offered her a chair at the desk. Instead, she sat next to him, looking at her feet.

"Why were you so horrible? Even after you knew I loved you?"

Her eyes widened, and she looked everywhere but at him. He had on numerous accounts said he loved her, when asked by towns folk and such. Yet she always thought it was a hoax. She felt tears prick her eyes for what seemed like the tenth time that day. "I thought you were lying… To impress everyone…" she whispered.

He sighed and grabbed her chin, forcing him to look at her. Then he kissed her. But it wasn't as awkward as it was in the chapel.

His lips were soft now, and he didn't taste so strange. Instead, his lips were like the inside of a rose, and similar to silk. He tasted like peppermint leaves and tobacco, and a pack of cigarettes and a tin of leaves on the desk seemed to prove her point. It was like warm and sweet yet bitter and spicy. They didn't feel the awkwardness of a hundred strangers watching them, and they didn't have the several layers of clothes keeping them apart.

Natalia didn't know what she was doing, or what Alfred was doing to her. When she thought of him torturing and raping her, it was far more violent and terrible. Not so pleasurable and lustful. She was supposed to hate this man, with a glowing passion. She smiled into the kiss and unknowingly allowed him to press his teeth against hers.

His hand moved up her arm, and undid her braid, running his hand through her hair while the other still held her chin. She let both her hands roam across his chest, up his arms, through his hair, down his back. They breathed heavily into the kiss as tongues became intertwined and hands began to roam more freely.

As Alfred's hand began to play with edge of her shirt, he pulled away, a blush covering his face entirely. "I love you Natalia. Don't you ever doubt that, you hear?" he snapped. She nodded slowly and curled up to his chest, and smiled, playing with the collar of his tunic.

"Amazing how in one minute, I can go from loathing, to liking, to loving…" she whispered, the tears that once held fast now flowing free. He rubbed them away with his thumb and hugged her.

"What made you come to my room?" he asked quietly. She smiled.

"Your servant, Ivan. He found me in the garden, and brought me to you. He was nice," she whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. He peered at her, confused.

"I don't have a servant named Ivan. The only person I know named Ivan was a Sursian prince. But his grandfather had killed him when we were only teenagers. He was a great friend of mine," he said, perpelexed. Natalia's eyes widened, but she smiled none the less.

"Well, he's now my big brother…"

A/N: Wanna know a secret? This was originally supposed to be a RussiaXBelarus story, but I realized that I hated that pairing. So most of this is unintentional. But it was good, right? So, review, because I see all of you reading this SO REVIEW! BECAUSE I KNOW YOU'RE READING THIS! AFTER TWO MINUTES OF MY SISTER'S STORY BEING ON LINE, SHE ALREADY GOT A REVIEW AND OVER FIFTY VIEWS! AND IT WAS SIX RUN ON SENTENCES, AND SHE DIDN'T SPELL PURPLE RIGHT! SO I KNOW YOU CAN HANDLE TYPING! SO REVIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEW!