Balkan grudge match

In the dining hall, Zélie rubbed her head as Nevena helped her to her feet. "My apologies. My daughter never had the best manners, and considering what happened with Croatia, her mood is only fowler."

"I have no recollection of your daughter doing anything to me. I guess it means I fainted before interacting with her."

Nevena frowned and turned her gaze back towards Barbro who was sitting at a table with her head slumped down in dejection. "I feel bad. You were there at the match, so that's probably why you were agitated and lashed out at that girl from the Japanese team. It really didn't sound like a hateful jibe, but I guess after what that vermin Vlatka did, everyone's just on edge more than need be..."

"It's because she called you "monkeys", yes? To be honest, I honestly don't know why the insult angers you so much."

Nevena shifted her gaze to the floor before letting out a sigh. "The reason behind that lies in what Paeonia was before becoming Paeonia. I don't remember everything clearly, neither does Biljana, but we just have a feeling our country had a unique identity before becoming an Esperanto hot spot. There are times I remember bits of it, such as words that clearly sound Slavic, but also fierce hostility towards the insult, "monkey". Specifically, the "monkeydonian" insult. I can't fully explain it, but hearing it enrages me. But what really leads me to believe it's tied to our nation's past is Barbro's reaction to it. I've never seen such raw anger and hatred from her."

"She has a DESPER, yes?"

"That's right, so I assume it means that she remembers all about our nation's past."

"And our nation's past is rooted in Esperanto," Barbro snarled as she walked over.

Nevena scowled and shook her head. "Barbro, you and I are biologically descended from Zamenhof, but just because you're in charge of the country doesn't mean-"

"So you'll push that "We're descended from Alexander the great" crap again!? Why the hell are there still people that say that shit!?"

"Perhaps it's rooted in our true-"

"No. Now if you're really my mother, shower me with unconditional love and stop uttering historical bullshit our neighbors hate."

And with that, Barbro stormed off, leaving Nevena flustered.

"My apologies you had to witness that. We normally are at each other's throats frequently, but after the match..."

"Yes. What Vlatka did truly was a step too far, and should not be rewarded no matter how many games she wins."

As she stormed out of the dining hall, Barbro clenched her fist and gritted her teeth as she began to recall the incident that had led to her mood becoming so foul.

...

Going back in time to the start of round 7, Vlatka smirked as she and her teammates approached the boards. The Paeonians were already there waiting for them, looking for payback from the Chaturaji match two nights ago.

"Oh look, the monkeys have escaped their pen. Someone call a zookeeper to drag them back to Skopje. Oh, and tell them that Alexander the great and Zamenhof were both human, so they can't be descended from them," Vlatka sneered.

The Paeonians narrowed their death glares, yet remained calm.

"Well look at that, some monkeys dare to glare at our queen!" a well-dressed man with wild blonde hair and an elongated chin and nose scoffed as he and four other men walked by.

This man was Croatia's Count Davor Drašković, a wealthy count who was head over heels in kissing Vlatka's feet and ass. Joining him were his compatriots. First was a man in army attire and a fur coat with curly blue hair named Srđan Srećković, then there was General Grgur Žugaj, a man with pointy blonde hair and a small mustache who headed Croatia's army, and much like his compatriots, was a massive simp for Vlatka.

Duško Elezović was perhaps the most intimidating of the bunch in terms of looks due to him being completely hairless and covered in tattoos, but the one who would easily turn the most heads due to how eccentric he looked was Šime Glavaš. Šime was a self-proclaimed gruff nerd who sported glasses and a shaved white bowlcut along with an argyle vest under his army attire. 

All five of these men were grandmasters and members of Croatia's men's team, as well as Vlatka's biggest simps who obeyed her beck and call. Most of them were Desperados, though all served Vlatka out of free will shockingly enough. It was hard to believe, but all it took was a check of the DESPER logs to confirm this was the case, as Vlatka nor anyone else had subjected the 5 to a DESPER match with the punishment of becoming Vlatka's eternal simps on the line. 

"Do make sure to check back frequently, boys. I know I'll be making a spectacle of these monkeys shortly," Vlatka snickered as the men headed off to their match.

She then began strutting towards the boards with Barbro staring her down like a hawk would stare down it's prey.

"Vlatka, it's time for payback. I spent all last night studying you, so prepare to- Huh!?"

Barbro's jaw dropped as Dunja sat down across from her at board 1. "Y- You're not going to play me!?"

"Hmm? Why would I? Dunja's our board 1 player. Besides, I like prey I can easily exploit," Vlatka sneered as she sat down at board 4 across from Raĥelo. "Nela, Dijana."

"Yes ma'am!"

"... Yes ma'am."

While Dijana eagerly followed Vlatka's order and sat down at board 3 across from Biljana, Nela groaned and rolled her eyes as she made her way to board 2 to sit across from Ofelio.

"Always giving me attitude. I'll deal with you later," Vlatka snarled under her breath.

As Nela scowled and propped her feet on the table, Ofelio shot her a nasty glare. "Excuse me, but have you ever heard of proper decorum?"

"Huh? The hell you complaining about style for? These kicks are popular all because I'm the one rocking them."

"And such action should get an automatic forfeit!"

Nela shot Ofelio a glare. "And that giant booger growing out of your head's an assault on my eyes. How about you lose, you shave it all bald, permanently."

Ofelio exploded in anger as she slapped Nela's feet off the table. "Ne kuraĝu insulti mian afron! Mi razis vian kapon kaj tatuos vian vizaĝon laŭ la plej doloraj manieroj imageblaj [Don't you dare insult my afro! I'll shave your head and tattoo your face in the most painful ways imaginable]!"

"Yeah, mind repeating that shit in an actual official language and not one made up by some old Polish guy? Like, shit's cringe," Snežana scoffed.

Barbro began to clench her fist, but before she could attempt to make a move, the round began, meaning the matchups were set in stone. "Dammit. Now she's going to try and take advantage of Raĥelo. And I didn't think of sharing my winning strategy to beat that bitch... Raĥelo, do your best, but if my thoughts are able to telepathically reach you, than whatever you do, don't let Vlatka play the Zagreb variation," she thought.