.:Breaking the Auld Alliance:.Chapter Two:.

"You have 27 new messages."

A small groan left the Frenchwomans lips, as she leaned her head back again st the chair in her office. It had only been a week since the divorce, and she hadn't been feeling too well. So she'd avoided answering the phone. she hoped she didn't worry anyone too much, all she'd wanted was a little time to herself. To sort through her emotions, try to find a way to push them aside.

Her violet eyes were locked onto the answering machine as she toyed with the idea of listening to the messages, well, she supposed it couldn't hurt. She also need to know who to call and assure that she was fine, although she really wasn't, they didn't need to worry about her. Or at least she didn't want them to. A world filled with worry would just make everything so different, and it would be a pain to deal with.

With a resigned sigh, she pressed play and placed her head on the desk. Twenty seven messages, this would take quite some time. The first one had been from Matthew, asking if she was alright. Maddeline's quiet voice was in the background, asking if she had answered the phone. She noted their genuinely worried tone and felt a pang of guilt, having not gotten back to them sooner. He was a sweet boy, and she was quite glad for that fact. It meant she'd done her job right.

The second one was from Amelia, another worried child she'd have to deal with. Although in the background she heard Alfred yelling something about 'pick up the phone women!'. Francoise cursed herself for having not thought of her family. Of course they'd have heard about the divorce, it was all over the news. That thought made her frown, seeing as she cared for her family very much. Their life was just as important as her own life, perhaps even more so.

"Ciao big sister France, ve. Are you alright?!? Lovi and I heard about the divorce and we'a just wanted to make sure you were alright!" This made her raise an eyebrow, as she heard quarreling over the phone along with Lovino yelling about how he wasn't worried but Spain was and it worried him in the background. Of course, that was his usual excuse for these sorts of things. Her heart twinged as she wrote down the names of everyone so far.

After that message timed out, she rolled her eyes at the next one. Sure enough it was Lovino, her petite frere, inquiring about her current state. She could tell by his voice that he was trying to sound impartial to her troubles, but his bottom lip was probably quivering. A small sigh left her lips as she rubbed her temples, cursing herself for not calling him sooner as that image situated itself in her brain.

Great, so far she was only four messages in and she'd worried at least half of her family. A least six younger countries worried about her, when she knew they had their own troubles. While yes, she did miss Ian since the divorce, she couldn't talk to him. So she wouldn't be alright. But she would have to act like she was, for the sake of her family.

The next message was from Antonio and Gilbert, why they were calling from the same phone she had no clue. But their usually bright and cheerful tones were laced with worry as they were trying to coax her out to go drinking. Julchens' voice rang in the background as well, and the next message was from her and Isabelle. Clearly something had happened to make them all get together like this, it was odd to hear the siblings' right after one another.

As she listen to each one, she tried to script out what she'd say to them each. Clearly they'd need to be called one by one, due to circumstances. Each message had hints of worry written through their words, and she cursed herself, tallying up the calls. It seemed she'd received five from Antonio, including the one with Gilbert. Two from Gilbert on his own, which seemed worried. Four from Julchen and Isabelle, always together. She wondered what was going on there. Matthew and Maddeline called thrice more, alternating between who spoke. Amelia and Alfred called twice again, and Lovino had called twice overall. On his own of course. Francis has left two or three messages, knowing him she should be expecting a letter soon enough. The two calls that surprised her though, were from Roderich, and one from Monica.

Strange, how she'd worried everyone so much. Really she'd just wanted a small break, time to organize her thoughts. She hadn't dreamed that so many people would be impacted. Yet, she couldn't regret how she'd spent her week. It had given her time to think about how her time with the Scotsman had been, and to think of a loophole. As she fiddled with the ring on her finger (For she insisted upon wearing it, despite the divorce) she wished she'd managed to find one.

Loopholes were usually simple for her to find, it was eerily simply for her to get out of any situation she didn't like. But now that she actually wanted one, yearned for it, it alluded her. She knew there had to be one, every contract had one. An incorrect word, a slip of the pen. Plus she had the original marriage and divorce paperwork, that should've made her job so much easier. Instead it just complicated things.

From all the time she'd been trying to relax, think about him, and find loopholes, she was beginning to get a headaches. Of course those were only minimal compared to the heaviness in her heart, and the guilt she was feeling after listening to the messages.

Her doorbell rang, and she blinked slightly in surprise. Rising from the chair, she tightened her housecoat around her and walked over to the door. Her hand twitched towards the doorknob, but it hesitated slightly. What if it was someone she didn't want to see? She hadn't prepared for the day properly yet, her damp hair was falling to frame her face nicely, but she still didn't want to be seen.

A frown furrowed itself into her brows as she looked through the peephole, it was someone she didn't recognize. He seemed to have a mail carriers bag on his shoulder. Oh, it must've been a letter from Francis. As she'd predicted, he most likely decided to send a letter after she ignored his long rants in french through the phone.

She unlatched the door, looking down at him. "Bonjour?" she asked, feigning ignorance. He seemed to be a little confused at her current state, and he held out the clipboard. "I have a package and a letter for you Ma'am." A package? What could it possible be. Clearly puzzled, she reached out and signed the clipboard. The boy passed her the letter and package before leaving.

The writing on the letter was clearly Francis's, and so was the writing on the package. She took them back to the study and placed them next to the answering machine. Now which to open first, this was always a problem for her to decide, seeing as she was naturally a rather curious person. After a minute or two she simply took the letter, grabbed her engraved letter open, and carefully cut it open.

The letter didn't contain much, simply about how he was sorry but she was worrying everyone. There was something about a meeting as well. It was tomorrow, so she'd try and make it. Hopefully she managed to  remember. Now then, the package. Her violet eyes trailed over there,, and she made a small noise of thought.

It was fairly small, so she had no clue what might be in it. Carefully she used her letter opener  once more to look inside. ears welled up in her eyes as she looked at the contents, and quickly wiped the tears away. There was no use crying. Delicately, she took the small golden band in her hand, and looked at the rose scented perfume.

An apology, and his sympathy. The ring was from his last marriage, she recognized it because he was the one who was married to the country. They were still married, but he thought she might need it more. Placing it and the perfume in her desk drawer, she turned her attention back towards the answering machine.

With a slight sigh, she pressed play yet again to listen to the Austrian mans message once more, as much as she enjoyed his company she found it odd that he'd called her. Everyone else who had called she was either close too, or family of some sort. She mulled this over in her mind as she listened to his message once more, trying to figure it out.

Clear as day, his voice rang out. "Guten Tag, Francoise. I'm sorry to hear about your recent divorce, perhaps I could treat you to lunch on July Twenty First? I think I may know something you'd like to hear."