"I thought I said not to cause any trouble, my dear." George chimes, playing with something in his vest pocket for a moment and I bite the inside of my cheek.
"Your majesty, just because we made it to England doesn't mean I'm giving up." My gaze fal...
*Well- it ain't the best redcoat uniform picture I could find but apparently it's a lot harder to find one from Hamilton, but- this will do. And you get a bonus of George staring into your soul so- win-win?°·°*
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(This is what you're wearing.)
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~~~ September 15, 1777 ~~~
° ° °
'To whoever finds this,
This letter may not make sense to you, it may sound crazy—something I've made up, but I beg you to read on, to get this letter to General George Washington, or Alexander Hamilton. They know who I am.
I have to keep this short, so read with care. A few months prior to writing this, General Washington invited the King of England to America for the upcoming peace treaty taking place that week. It was a time for prosperity, celebration.
But for me, it was the beginning of many nightmares. The events of that week are too long to share here—and I can't risk rambling on as I already have a very small window. However, on the last day of the king's visit to our country, I was taken.
My name is (f/n) (l/n), and I've been stuck on the king's ship for what feels like years—now only meer hours away from a port in England. I'm worried sick about my family, especially Barbara.
I just need to know they're all ok.
His majesty, the king, won't let me go—has told me countless times that he loves me, that I'll stay by his side. My attempts to get off his ship have been futile, far and in-between, and my ideas are running dry.
Please, I beg you—whoever you may be, to send help. Find General Washington.'
The note had been reread several times by my eyes, looked over for inconsistencies that weren't there, even when the sharp knocking on glass signaled someone's arrival.
The days had flown by, my chance having been on the brink of arrival.
However, I remained still in my place on the bed, waiting on a moment I knew was coming. My gaze never shifts, watching the blurred outlines of words I had scrawled down in preparation for my way home.
Another crisp knock mixes with an inhale of breath and I keep each muscle still, relaxed despite my even heartbeat.
I needed to be ready even if I knew I wasn't — there was no time for hesitation or fear.
