Hamilton One Shots and Imagines

King George III- Toast (a)

Hamilton One Shot

You walked up to the large doors of King George's chambers located inside the grand Kew palace, pushing past the 16 burly guards he had instructed to stand outside as he stayed there. There was no need for the guards, but King George had taken up many strange practices thanks to his descent into madness. You had noticed a few including talking until he foamed at the mouth and locking himself inside the chambers, playing the piano and singing to himself, sometimes all night long. His voice was quite mellifluous to be honest, when on break from your real duties you actually enjoyed listening, even if the lyrics were mostly babble and nonsense.

On your journey up to Kew Palace, you often wondered why of all people you had to be the one to tell his royal Highness that the Americans were revolting.

"Excuse me, excuse me." You muttered under your breath as you made your way through the crowd of king's men.

The heavy, oak doors swung open as you pushed against them with your shoulder, revealing the mad King sat on the floor, pushing a small wooden train around a track, his eyes fixed on the small locomotive. You cleared your throat, scared of how he would take the news.

"Your majesty, I have some...not bad news."

King George looked up, still pushing the train around the track.

"Did you burn my toast?"

You tilted your head in confusion and took a few steps closer.

"No, your highness, you did not ask me for toast?

"Oh..." The train stopped moving and King George placed his hands in his lap.

"Can I have some toast?"

"Of course, your majesty, I'll go have the chef prepare you some now." You turned to leave the room before remembering why you entered the room. "Sir, there is bad news from the empire." King George's head shot up and he stared you deep in the eyes.

"The colonies?" He spoke quickly, his face was now extremely distressed. Your hands started to tremble, your voice was shaky and unsettled, your throat was dry.

"Yes sir, the people are starting to revolt."

His head turned, he stood up and walked over to you, his hands clenched at his side.

"Can we not just tell them to stop?"

"Not quite your highness, they aren't happy with the taxes."

"It's fine" He stooped his head and unenthusiastically walked over to the large piano seated in the corner of the room "I understand, but they'll see. They won't manage without me", as you turned around to leave he started to play a few notes, walking to your carriage you heard the start of another one of his eccentric songs ...

"They say, the price of my love's not a price that they're willing to pay..."

~*~

Written by Aaron.