Your Obedient Servant. (Kingsbury)

~ Chapter 1 ~

((A/N: There might be some angst. I don't normally write in POVs, but I might possibly later. PLEASE give asks in the comments for the Ask Hamilcast in the future, for all characters! Thank you, and enjoy my book. Signed, O. Lee))

It was a normal day in the castle like always, it was quiet, cozy, and there wasn't much action. Let's turn out attention to our main character of this chapter, our beloved Samuel Seabury, who was recently called to meet the King for something important. He had a feeling on what this important meeting might be. And his theory was correct. He was being sent to America as a loyalist to go against the revolution.

"I thank you greatly for accepting this, Seabury. I have faith that you are the proper person for this task," The king said to him. King George III, the monarch of the British empire who was not keen on the news of revolution and war with America. "I will not let you down, your highness." Samuel said firmly. He refused to let his king down, he'd never want to disappoint his cru- er, king. You heard nothing.

Anyways, after about a week, Samuel had everything he needed for his ride to America. A bag full of his clothes, papers, his writing utensils, and some other necessities. He was nervous, yes, but he gripped the leather strap of his satchel and boarded the ship with a bounce in his step. He'd always wanted to see other countries, he doesn't get the chance to get out much. His room on the ship hadn't been too bad, it had what he needed; a bed, a desk, a chair, a window, and a door. It even had a little carpet. Samuel set his bag beside the bed as he unpacked his stuff. Putting his clothes into the wardrobe, papers and desk ware on the desk, and a little wooden carved horse that he was given years back by someone who he couldn't quite remember.

The ship overall wasn't too bad. He didn't socialize much, but he did get proper food and rest, other than the nervousness and seasickness. But after a long 4 days of on water, the boat had finally reached America and Samuel sighed, stepping off of the ship and walking to a hotel to check in. 

Samuel checked into his hotel. It wasn't as big as his room on the ship, but it had its own bathroom, which was a nice change. He again put everything where he thought belonged. Clothes in closet, quills ink and papers on desk, necessities in bathroom, and the little wooden horse on the bedside table. It wasn't too dark yet, so Samuel decided to go to the store and get some food.

America was quite different from Britain, he noted. The architecture, roads, and how people dressed. The markets weren't far from the hotel he had been staying at, so it wasn't a long walk. Recalling what he needed, he stepped inside. Some fruit, meat, cheese, and bread. He didn't need much, after all. He smiled warmly, kind of awkwardly, at the cashier as he paid for his items. Samuel was thankful for being given some money to take with him on his trip. After walking back to the hotel, he made himself a sandwich and ate happily while writing a letter to the king.

Your Highness,

I am reporting back to you just to assure that I have made it here safely with no issues so far. America is quite different from home, and it might take a bit of getting used to on my end here. However I am still nervous about my public speech tomorrow, I will update once more when I receive your next letter.

Sincerely, Seabury.

Samuel signed the letter and set it aside to let the ink dry, before recalling back to his walk. He had passed a tavern whilst going to the market, and it was still a bit early, so he decide to check it out. Perhaps get a drink. He hadn't drank alcohol much in his life, but he still liked it. Samuel stood up, carefully as to not spill his ink - that stuff's expensive after all - and walked toward the tavern.

When he arrived, he noticed the relaxing demeanour of the place. There was a group of guys beatboxing, which Samuel found amusing, and some people just talking kindly to each other like good friends would. He sat down at the bar, looking around a bit, waiting for a bartender to see him.

"Hello, sir! What may I get you?" A kind man in an apron asked him. "Just a-a beer, thank you!" Samuel responded with a warm smile. As he waited, he watched the group of men beatboxing curiously. They seemed to be good friends, like this was a regular thing for them. Then he noticed that two of them were holding hands. Where he came from, homosexuality was thought of as a sin, punishable by prison or worse. But Samuel turned a blind eye. Then the person beside him spoke up.

"Aren't they rowdy," the man said, raising an eyebrow. He had deep brown side swept hair on a chiseled face, in high contrast to the fluffy ginger hair that framed Samuel's child-like look. "They are, y-yeah..." He responded nervously. Samuel wasn't good at socializing, never was. "Name's Charles Lee, you?" He asked with a smile.

"Samuel! S-Seabury," he responded answered.