Ivan had just arrived home and threw his body onto the tan couch that was stationed in the middle of his living room.

Was it not for a knock on his door, he would have fallen asleep in that very spot. Throwing his hands into the air, he pushed his body off the soft couch and ventured to the wooden door at the front of his house.

Turing the knob slowly, he shut his eyes for a brief moment before opening them once the door was opening.

"Ah, Ivan." A brown haired man greeted him. A petite woman with black hair stood next to the male holding a small baby, no older than a year.

"Thomas Edine, please come in."

The woman smiled warmly at him before following her husband into the largest nation's home.

"How are you two doing? And how is the child?" Ivan asked, sitting in the singles-chair across from the double seat.

"We are doing just fine Ivan. And Emma is doing just fine. Would you like to see her?" Thomas asked.

Ivan looked at the small child in the females lap. "Of course."

The woman handed her child to the man sitting across from them.

Ivan carefully took the child and smiled to himself. The girl looked at him with wide brown eyes. Her brown hair was tied into a little bow, a few stray pieces stuck out. Something caught her eye. She stared at the star dangling from a piece of fabric sewn onto Ivan's uniform. She let an inaudible word escape her tiny lips. Ivan laughed quietly and observed as she took the star and stared at it shine in the dim lighting of his living room.

"Ivan, we need to ask you a favor."

He pulled his gaze towards Thomas. "Da Thomas?"

"W-were fearing for our child… as you know, we are under the control of Austria." He said.

Ivan looked to Thomas' wife as she spoke to him, "Please Ivan, protect her! I don't want my child being taken away from us... Or hurt."

Thomas looked at him. "She's the next heir to Slovenia. In fact, she's the only one at this point… She's the last hope for our country. So please Ivan, we realize we are in debt to you enough, but she is in danger."

Ivan looked at the child in his lap. "Of course Thomas."

DATE: January 22, 1905

Her dull brown eyes watched as everything folded out before her.

She was laying on the cold, unforgiving ground, dying slowly.

She had been shot.

A small snowflake fell from the sky and landed onto her pale skin.

Almost automatically, it turned to water and ran down her face.

There were people all around her, but nobody stopped to save the extremely young child. Her parents had been shot down.

Gunshots rang in her ear. Her small mouth hung open as a snowflake placed itself on the corner of her lip.

Her grip on the pale tan scarf unlaced.

Her eyes shut slowly as she took in the grey Russian sky one last time before her death.

Someone save me.

As though her silent plea was answered, someone placed their large hand onto her neck, searching for a sign of life.

Having been a faint pulse, she was lifted up and taken away from the bitter air of St Petersburg, Russia.

Where was she? She had no clue.

Who had saved her? She did not know.

All she knew was that she had been taken away from the horrid scene, and she was no longer a victim of the chilling Russian air.

"Why did you save this child when there are military men waiting to be saved?" He gestured toward the small child, who was no older than the age of two.

"Do you not know who this child is?" came the reply.

Serious blue eyes bored into equally serious amethyst eyes. "I do not."

"She is the child who is the heir to Slovenia."

"How do you know this?"

He looked at her. "I have met her before sir, when she was younger than she is now."

"How?"

He thought for a moment. "Her father and I were close friends."

"Where are her parents?"

Ivan's purple orbs down casted as he answered, "They were killed."

The man sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "Make sure this child gets back home safely Ivan."

He stood up straight and nodded. Saluting to his boss once more, he lightly picked up the sleeping child off the burgundy couch. She stirred in her sleep before wrapping her short arms around his neck.

He stepped out into the frigid air before taking in the scene before him.

Blood seemed to stain the pure snow scattered on the ground.

He could not bring himself to look at the region around him any longer. It was gruesome sight.

It was the day after the Bloody Sunday occurred.

He felt the child stir once more, and he pushed her tighter against his uniform clad body.

He was satisfied that he had saved her.

He was disappointed in himself that he could not stop the bullet that caused her pain.