England leaned over to read the poem as France held it, then sat back down with a sigh. "This is becoming a problem."
"Oui," France nodded in a rare moment of agreement. "No need to worry, Matthew; Angelterre and myself have already discussed this. You'll be right. Right?"
"Right," Arthur murmued, less than enthusiastically. He pretended that he didn't notice Alfred sitting next to him--until Matthew sparked a new conversation. It was shock enough to learn that Alfred still had the little soldiers after so long, but hearing that he put them up every year was quite near startling.
Blinking a few times, England turned his head to America. His thoughts were racing, but he couldn't only think of one thing to say. "I didn't know you kept those, Alfred."
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