🇪🇸||Spain||🇪🇸

Spain had been born with a silver spoon in its mouth. She had everything she desired; she was given everything she asked for, and there was no one in her kingdom who would refuse to fulfill her every whim, no matter how small or ridiculous. But even though everyone gave her what she wanted, her father, the Spanish Empire, was always there to put the brakes on her life. Spain had never considered settling down or anything like that. Marriage? Him? Never! Although it seemed clear that her father didn't agree with that.

The news, so sudden, had fallen on Spain like a bucket of ice water; his father had arranged a marriage for him, had found him a fiancé(e), and no matter how much Spain objected, the Empire did not back down. "If you want to be King someday, you must get married, my son, I don't want to hear any more objections." That was what his father told him.

"Ugh! Damn it!"

Clearly, knowing he would be tied to someone for the rest of his life hadn't pleased him at all, but there was nothing he could do to avoid it. Spain slumped into the armchair in his private sitting room, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on the ceiling adorned with gilded frescoes. Every detail of that room seemed to remind him of the luxury in which he had grown up, but also of the invisible cage in which he now found himself. His mind raced through the names, the obligations, the protocols he would have to follow… everything related to this marriage his father had arranged without his consent. The Spaniard couldn't stop imagining what that life would be like: formal dinners, forced smiles, measured gestures… all under the watchful eye of his fiancé(e) and, of course, his father.

"No... it can't be!"

His voice echoed through the room, a cry lost among the marble walls and gilded tapestries, like a small burst of rebellion that only he could hear. Because deep down, Spain knew that no complaint would do any good, no plea would change the iron will of the Spanish Empire.