My loyal, royal subject - Kingbury

Chapter 9

Sam grinned, laughing at a joke Charles told. The two had been talking all day, and eventually they came to the subject of why both of them were there.

"Well, I got in a duel with this guy, Alexander...Hamilton, I think. And he shot me in the arm..." Sam trailed off, raising his injured arm and pointing to it.

"Well, that's almost better than my story. Okay, so I upset this guy named John Laurens, and he wanted to duel me. I didn't wanna duel him, but I didn't wanna seem like a coward," Charles laughed, coughing slightly, "So I went to this duel, and I drew first position. But I missed. And then he shot me in the side. And what was funny, the guy who I chose to be my second, Aaron Burr, called John's second Alexander. What a small world, two people with the name Alexander were there when we got shot!" Charles seemed oddly happy when telling this story.

'This guy is never upset, is he?' Sam thought, feeling kinda pathetic. This guy had been shot in the side and was laughing and joking, and Sam was depressed about being shot in the arm.

The doctor walked in, looking at Sam.

"Mr. Seabury, you can go home now if you'd like." He said. Sam glanced at Charles, who looked down, still trying to seem happy even though he was sad about being left alone again.

"I-I...can I come visit Charlie still?" Sam blurted out, accidentally using the nickname he had thought of for Charles. The doctor chuckled lightly.

"Of course, visiting hours are 8 AM to 9 PM, so you sure can!" He said, and Samuel smiled.

"Well, see you tomorrow, buddy?" Charlie exclaimed, and Sam nodded happily.

As Sam left, though, he remembered something. The king probably thought he was dead now.

'Not like he has a reason to care." Sam thought as he walked through the square, holding his bandaged arm close to him. He reached the hotel, fumbling to get his key in the door with one hand, but he managed. Stepping inside, the first thing he noticed was the drawing of the king, which was still on his desk.

He pulled out a blank paper, writing his next letter to the king. He was incredibly glad that he was left handed.

My dearest king,

It is I, your loyal subject, Samuel Seabury. I know you probably despise me after what I wrote in that last letter, but if you don't, rest assured that I survived the duel. Though I did get shot in my right arm, tomorrow, or possibly the day after, I will go back to speaking my thoughts about the continental congress.

Sincerely,
Me.

Sam held up his letter, and was in an incredibly good mood for some reason. Peppily, he walked into town, delivering the letter to the post office before skipping home. But as soon as he got home, he didn't feel so happy anymore.

He curled up on his bed, not quite crying, though he was pretty close. The thought of the king hating him made him wish that he hadn't survived that duel. Absentmindedly he picked at his bandages, still curled up.

"He probably hates me now...I can't even go back to Britain, I'll be executed..." He mumbled, putting his arms behind his head and pushing himself into an even tighter ball.

And at that moment, he really did wish that he hadn't survived the duel.