starry eyes

TWENTY-THREE

May 10th, 1775

Alfred and I made the decision to dispose of that which, for far too long, has held us anchored to our enemies. We have long moved past the point of no return in our efforts against the Crown. No longer does England have a mere uprising on their hands, but a full-scale revolution. It is for this reason that we came to a mutual, inevitable conclusion: In order to fight with the same fervor as our experienced counterparts, we needed to eradicate that which made us feel bound to them.

So, between three different residences, we spent the afternoon sifting through old letters and memorabilia, collecting only that which induced nostalgia, doubt, or, worst of all, sympathy for the English cause. When we finished, which was around sunset, we gathered our items into a carriage and drove deep into the wilderness, far beyond the confines of the city.

It sent shivers down my spine to think of everything we carried in tow. I think perhaps there were hundreds, if not a thousand letters between the both of us. We also got our hands on a few old suits of Alfred's, a full gown of mine, and a number of dollies and trinkets gifted to us as children by Arthur and Alice.

"I don't think you've stopped fidgeting since we left the city," remarked Alfred to me not long before we finally stopped. He sounded more sympathetic than perturbed. "Are you certain that this is what you want to do?"

I shot him a pointed look. "Absolutely! Why? Surely you're not having any doubts?"

Although I saw the tension in his shoulders, recognizable even amidst the thickening gloom of the woodland, he held his ground.

"Of course not! In fact, I can't wait to finally be rid of all this junk." His tone was matter-of-fact, but I'm no fool. I know he must have been harboring the same sorrows and doubts as I was at that moment, and were I to suggest turning back and saving the task for another day, he would have agreed in a heartbeat.

In the end, we both held our tongues, and it wasn't much longer until, having spotted a clearing ideal for what we intended to do, we slowed to a stop.

"This is it," said Alfred.

No sooner had we come to a complete stop than, unwilling to subside to dubiety, had I snaked down from the carriage myself.

"So it is," I replied, smoothing down the frontside of my gown.

It wasn't but a few seconds later that Alfred had planted himself at my side, shadowy eyes sweeping across the surrounding populace of bushes and trees. Cicadas bellowed in the overhead branches and, all around, small animals stirred in the underbrush.

"I'll collect and tend to the timber," he surmised after a few moments' silence. "if you remove everything from the carriage."

I agreed, and within the timeframe of an hour, our little clearing was brilliant with firelight.

A few meters away from the blaze, Alfred and I were situated adjacent to each other in the grass. He'd had the good sense to secure a bottle of wine before we departed, and we passed it back and forth as we read aloud from old letters.

"My Dearest Alfred,

In my many years of life, I must admit that I have never before encountered a child as absolutely perverse as yourself. How it is that you have managed to chase away a seventh tutor is beyond my imagining. I received a letter from him a fortnight ago. He offered no explanation, only that he believed you possessed of the Devil..."

Alfred's face was glowing as he recited this letter to me. The remainder was all but a desperate plea for his obedience; Arthur even went so far as to bribe him with an unnamed, but supposedly glorious present the next time he visited.