Best Woman and Finest Lady

1. My Pride and Joy

Burr wished he hadn't proposed the idea in the first place.

The sun just set. He just arrived home.

Duel. Duel with Hamilton.

How did it come to this?

Hamilton shouldn't have done that to him.

And he had the balls to beg for specifics!

The weight of his desicion began to take a toll on him as he cooked away supper for him and his daughter.

Theodosia insisted that she do the cooking, but her father refused it, telling her to set up the dinner table instead.

By the time the meal had finished cooking, Aaron served it on the table, his daughter waiting just by the area.

She asked if anything ailed him.

Theodosia cared so much for her father.

That's one thing her mother's death had done to her.

He couldn't tell her.

She can't know what he's up to.

My daughter can't take another heartbreak.

Aaron reassured her, his reason being exhaustion.

Although that wasn't the real reason he felt that way, he was exhausted.

They took their seats and proceeded to eat.

The food was alright.

Nothing disgusting. Nothing delightful.

Actually, it was really plain.

Either way, it was enough for the Burr family.

He asked his daughter about his cooking. He was convinced his wife did better, so with that, only constant consolation from his daughter kept his envy and unnecessary remorse in check.

Theodosia described the food with simple words. She liked being honest with her father. It's not like he's lied to her before.

God knows what she'd do if she couldn't even trust her father.

Then again, the idea of him not trusting her hurt her more.

Content with her answer, her father continued to eat, with the sound of the calm wind filling the room.

____________________________________

"How far will I go, Father?"

Aaron straightened up, swallowing. "Pardon?"

She paused from dining. "I'm perturbed-"

"And why would you be, Theo?"

"I," She showed some insecurity.

"No need to be afraid, dearest."

She chose her words as carefully as she could. "You always say to me that I would blow us all away-"

"You will," He said with reassurance.

She was taken aback.

"Did I say something wrong, Theodosia?"

"Do you have to run an errand, Father?"

I have a God damn duel.

Why do you have to suspect?

"Father?" He's acting rashly. Why?

"...I do." He hesitated.

"It's extremely complicated,"

"You're stressing out superfluously. Is Mr. Jefferson giving you trouble? Is work getting to you?" Mr. Hamilton again, then?

He didn't want to respond. He shook his head.

"What do you want, father?"

No response again.

Take a break. She kept this thought to herself, instead of directing it to her father.

____________________________________

Aaron's daughter urged him to rest straight away, volunteering to clean up.

It took a while for Theodosia to convince her father.

It really bothered her that her father was acting peculiarly.

Awfully rashly and more loudly too.

He's been diving in more into his political work.

Somehow, he always brought his personal ideals into politics, something she learned to be foolish.

Now that she thought about it, the entire governing force of their country acted in such a way.

Well, not the entire governing force. Most of it.

As her father would tell her, Alexander Hamilton was a fine example.

Speaking of Hamilton, her father hardly spoke of him. It's as if Hamilton's shut his mouth. Like the Federalist had reserved himself.

And you can't get much from a reserved man's story.

Odd of him.

It's not like they rubbed off of each other, right?

Oh, Hamilton.

Hamilton...?

She remembered Phillip.

Theodosia enjoyed Phillip, even if he was a Hamilton.

Why, she hoped her father warned his father. She told her father beforehand, praying that Alexander would keep Phillip from dueling.

Apparently he didn't.

Theodosia's father relayed his story on Hamilton's self-inflicting downfall as of recent days.

Somehow it was still going.

Further down.

Futher down.

She always wondered when it was going to end.

She wasn't happy with Mr. Hamilton's attitude towards her father, but she still had some pity.

Hamilton's running out of time.

No wonder he's been so rash and loud.

Writing and fighting like everyone he had ever known would be gone, whisked away into some natural phenomena.

Like a hurricane.

And all the disgusting, lifeless corpses pile up in the eye of the hurricane.

In the eye of the hurricane, there is quiet. With no beat. No melody either. Quite like death in itself.

And those memories, reminders, stories are there.

For just a moment.

What would I do if everyone who loves me has died?

From her father's story, that was what Hamilton's going through.

And what her father was going through too.

Anyway, back to her father, Burr eventually went off to his room, sitting down on his desk.

He took his writing materials.

With a forlorn tune, he sang, "Dear Theodosia,"