She was cold.

She was always frigid. Her gaze was even, and her lips formed a thin line. Hues of dark purple, blue, and white marked her attire, displaying the winters of her homeland. She dressed like winter. She dressed like her winter. She dressed as if she was pluck outside of a Victorian novel. She assembled herself as if Hugo spent days agonizing every detail of her attire. Writing is an art, but so are paintings. The written word caught her coldness, but could never catch how warm she felt. Wisps of hair stuck onto her forehead. Her clothes clung, forming a second skin. Pink spread her cheeks. He was not sure if it was because she was blushing, or if she about to pass from the southern heat.

'Well, it is a good thing that I'm known for my drawing abilities…'

Romano smiled, slightly. That was a lie. His brother had the talent.

He was in an awkward place. A very uneven, especially difficult place, so much so that he was not sure what to tell Natasha for making the trip down to him; to his homeland, to his once kingdom. He had to call somebody. He had to obtain a second opinion. But most of all, he had to be with someone who was cold, and even.

After all, he and his brother had just become a country.

A country without a constitution, of course, but still a country. For once, the foreign leaders were gone. No more Bourbons. No more kingdoms. Now, Italy, joined together. The issue still arises, what was annexed, or what was saved. Romano himself did not really know. He knew he wanted to help other Italians. He knew he loved his brother. He knew that he despised the foreign powers. Gnawing, he looked at her as if she knew what to do.

"So, why did you call me, here?" Natasha was sharp. She was always sharp, and always to the point.

Of course, she meant to say why did he call her, and not Alfred? Or, anyone else. Natasha has never been fearful of showing emotions. She displays her feelings out, and never clouds them. Something that Romano finds helpful. So, while Natasha is not afraid to show affection, she is also not afraid to show her displeasure of being in Southern Italy. At least, in her current attire. However, who would try, and make her change?

"I…feel, somewhat lost…?"

"Why?" She frowned. "You are finally with your brother. Doesn't that please you?" Natasha was not afraid to show her love for her big brother, Ivan. She felt proud to be with Ivan. She was part of an empire. She was part of an empire that adored the masters of arts. She even learned Russian, along with her Belarusian. Sometimes, Romano would find her trying to translate authors in Belarusian, so her people can read the great minds.

But, not even she could forget the revolts. Not even she could forget the empire crushing parts of her villages.

November had passed, but she could sense another uprising happening. So, perhaps she was the right person for Romano to call.

"I feel conflicted, okay!" He shouted throwing his arms up, "Yes, of course…to be with Veneziano…But, I am not sure where to go, from here." While Natasha voiced her emotions, it took Romano a long time to process his. He could never admit, not even to her, that he cared for his brother. Natasha never lies. Romano can respect, and admire her honest trait.

"I can understand that…"

"That is why I called you, Natash." Romano looked at her, sadly. She was still conflicted. She would maybe always be conflicted. It is difficult, to understand her, and her relation to her brothers, and sisters. Much more difficult than the Romance siblings.

"But I don't have an answer for you." She stated plainly, and simply. "I don't even have an answer for myself."

"Hey! I wasn't expecting an answer—I didn't even ask a question!"

"So why did you call me here?"

"Because I needed to talk to somebody! Can't you understand that?" Romano scowled.

"You could have called anybody else! You could have called Alfred! Hell" Natasha was beyond annoyed, "you could have called Arthur! Do you really think I like talking about these certain subjects?"

Romano ran his hand through his hair, disrupting his little curls, "I called you because I can think straight, rational with you. I feel like I can be more straightforward when I am with you."

Natasha hated wasting time, "Do you even like being a country?"

"Do you like being part of an empire?"

She glared. He punched a rough spot.

"Our situations are completely different, and you called me here, in the hottest area of all Europe to talk about your problem, not mine." Natasha was sweating, and scowling, and glaring. "Why not form an alliance with my brother? Do you know how many Venetians I would see, working at the capital?"

"I don't know if I can do that…To be honest, I am not sure who I can ally with anymore." Romano hadn't thought about if his allies would still be his allies, if they were enemies of Northern Italy. Hell, they didn't even have a constitution at this time.

Natasha's gaze soften, and she straighten her bow, trying to ignore the wet patches under her arms, "Just, give yourself time. You will work everything out. I am sure someone like you can…" She looked around her settings; the blaring sun, the almost vacant aristocrat houses, the lands were peasants were starving vs the lands of the lords.

It was striking; made her open her own eyes.

"…think of something."

She was right, of course. He would be able to think of something. He can sit down, comfortably with Veneziano, and have a chat about how the united country would work. His country is new, but he is not.

"In the meantime..." Natasha gripped his hand, "maybe, my home can benefit from some Sicilian artwork? Or, you could teach me that game…" She wrinkled her nose, trying to remember.

"Scopa?"

"Yes! And I can teach you my game, durak"

Romano groaned, pulling her close, "I don't understand how you can play a game where there is no single winner, only one loser…"

Natasha only shrugged, lightly kissing his chin.