Thursday, March 10, 1927. New York, New York.
"Good evening sir," John said, giving the redcoat a placid smile. Beth looked down at her lap and pretended to be focused on reading a pamphlet she had grabbed at the train station, but really, her whole attention was focused on the soldier, just waiting for him to realize that something was wrong.
"Good evening," the redcoat replied. "May I see your papers, sir?"
"Is there a problem?" John asked. "We got our papers checked in Georgetown."
They hadn't, but from John's voice, you could never tell. Beth had no idea he was such a good liar until now.
The redcoat paused as if deciding whether or not to answer, then finally told him. "We're looking for someone who is illegally leaving the country,"
Beth's breath caught in her throat and she struggled to keep her face calm. Someone had tipped the guards off that they were going to be on the train! They were all going to be killed!
"Didn't have the right papers?" John probed, although even he was starting to sound a little nervous.
The man shook his head. "He had the right papers. He had the wrong name. Count Lafayette."
"I've got him!" Someone shouted from the back of the car. This was followed by someone swearing loudly in a language Beth guessed might be French, an exclamation of pain, and a woman's scream.
"Hang on," The redcoat who they had been talking to them called to his comrade. He turned and hurried back up the aisle, pushing people out of the way. There was a brief scuffle, then silence. Beth turned in her seat and looked toward the back of the train car. The two redcoats had captured Lafayette, but not, it seemed, without injury.
One of the officers was sporting a bloody nose, a stream of red running down his face and staining his pristine white collar, and color was starting to bloom around Lafayette's eye. Beth's heart filled with sympathy for the young man. He was only a few years older than her and yet already doomed to either die or spend his life in a prison camp.
The guards tried to turn him and lead him down the train, but Lafayette planted his feet, looked at the train car and said something to them in French.
"Shut up," hissed one of the redcoats, cuffing Lafayette sharply and pulling hard on his arm. Reluctantly, he turned and went with them.Beth wondered if she'd ever know what became of him.
"I sure hope no one else here knows French," Alex muttered.
"Why?" Beth asked him. "What did Lafayette say?"
"Long live Princess Elizabeth, the last hope our country has."
"Oh no," Aaron covered his face with his hands. "We're dead."
As if the universe agreed with that sentiment, a single shot rang out from outside the train.
Beth's panic spiked, and she clasped her shaking hands together. Soldiers shooting people, this had happened to her before. She knew it.
"Try to stay calm," Aaron told her, standing. "I'm going to find out what's going on. They didn't just take Lafayette off the train. There are others too.
The photographer's flash hadn't been a flash at all. It had been a gunshot. They were shooting people who fought back. People loyal to her father and his family.
"B-Eliza," Alex said, taking Aaron's seat. "Are you alright? You look like you're going to faint again."
The guards themselves came next. They broke the glass with their rifles, then climbed through the shattered windows. Most of the nobles ran, but some stayed, just behind the king and his family. The guards drew their guns and pointed them at Beth and her family. Her little sister started to cry, and their mother was shaking as she pulled her children close. Beth's father stood in front of them. He could so easily be shot there. Beth wanted to call out to him, to save him somehow from this fate, but her older sister stopped her. It was better to be silent.
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The Lost Princess [Hamliza Anastasia AU]
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