The Price of Love

Chapter 1

Alex's PoV

"Alexander. Take. A. Break." My father says sternly. I throw my hands up in exasperation.

"I can't Dad! Our country's going bankrupt, there's a war going on, I'm trying to keep a level head like a good little prince-" I spit the word out like a bite of rotten food. "And our people are dying! I need to keep working so we have a chance to survive!" I yell. "I know it's not healthy to work this much, but I'm pretty low on options here!" I run my hand through my red hair, struggling to keep my composure. I sit back down, holding my head in my hands, and take deep, shaky breaths as my dad talks about something. After a few minutes, I calm down. "I'm sorry." I mumble when my dad stops.

"Don't apologize Alexander. Just take a break for a little while, okay?" He ruffles my hair and leaves my room. I don't want a break. I need to plan. Work out what could come next.

"What are the British planning?" I ask myself, staring out my window, all the way down to the churning gray ocean. My best guess is that they're going to attack Kips Bay next. It's an important harbor for us, and regretfully not very well fortified. Our army is stretched thin as it is. But I'll have to redirect troops to Kips Bay. We can't afford to lose it. I smile wryly to myself. Eighteen years old and already a general. That's what I get for being heir to the New York throne and having an incredibly strategic and shrewd mind. The British will probably attack sometime this week. So it would be quite prudent to set up defences at Kips Bay right now. Yeah, I'll go do that. Get out of the house for a little bit. I let out a sigh, my bottom lip fluttering slightly. "Alright. That's a good plan." I say out loud, standing up. I fix the papers on my desk, dozens and dozens of notes about battles and tactics and weaknesses and strengths on both sides. My eye twitches slightly from lack of sleep and I fiercely rub it. Stop it. You're not going to die of exhaustion. Coffee's been a little short, but you'll be fine. You don't need sleep. I tell myself. "Dad! I'm going out! I won't be back for a few hours! Army shit will be happening that you'll approve of! But you'd approve of it anyway 'cause I'm doing it and you made me a general at seventeen and a half for a reason!" I yell as I walk through our house. "Bye!" I scream as I walk out. I start thinking as I walk through my city. I have Montauk as heavily fortified as I can. I think I could probably take out a dozen or so troops and relocate them to Kips Bay. After winning quite a few battles at Montauk, I doubt the British will dare attack there again. Even with a dozen or two less soldiers, my army is still formidable, a force to be reckoned with. No, the British won't dare attack Montauk, or Long Island, for a while. I smile in satisfaction. I jog through the city, greeting the people who live here and calling for a carriage. When one stops, I hop in. "Brooklyn please." I request. I'll grab another carriage there.

"Right away Prince." He says, snapping his reins.

"Please, 'sir' will be fine." I say. I hate the title of 'Prince'. It makes me feel weird and makes me feel connected to England. He nods. I stare out of the window of the carriage, looking at the ragtag state my country is in. I refuse to think of New York as my kingdom. Refuse to. I yawn. My eyes droop down a little. I force them open. They fall back down. I slump against the carriage and fall asleep.

                                                                                               ---

I wake up three hours later when the carriage stops. "We here?" I slur slightly, waking up with a start.

"Yessir." The coachman responds.

"Thank you." I yawn. I dig in my pocket and pull out three dollars. "Here you go." I pass him the crumpled bills, which he gladly accepts with a tip of his hat. I jump out of the carriage, patting the horses as I pass them. I walk through Brooklyn for a few minutes, before stopping next to a store and thinking. I can't travel all the way out to Montauk myself, it'll take over thirty-eight hours. Dad wouldn't like that, he needs me. So what I'll do is I'll send a messenger there, requesting troops to move to Kips Bay. Yeah, that's good. I pat at my clothes with a frown. For once, I'm not carrying parchment, a quill, and my portable inkwell. That sucks. I have to buy some. Oh well. It's not money wasted if it helps us keep Kips Bay when Britain inevitably attacks there. I enter the store and quickly browse for my needed materials. Finding them easily, I hesitate for a moment, biting my lip and rocking on my feet, debating whether or not I need to eat. After several long moments of arguing both sides in my head, I decide that I do need to eat. So I stand there for five solid minutes, trying to remember what kind of food one eats for a meal because when I do eat, it's quick and fleeing. I haven't had a real meal in years. Sandwich. I think. Normal people eat sandwiches. Go get a sandwich. I walk through the store to the back, where there's sandwiches in an ice chest. I reach in blindly and grab the first one I touch. That works. I walk up to the counter and unceremoniously plop my items down on the counter.

"Just a moment, sir." The clerk says, his back turned to me, rearranging items on a shelf.

"Of course." I say politely. About two minutes, later he turns around and gasps softly upon recognizing me.

"I'm terribly sorry-" He starts, but I cut him off.

"Please, there's no need. I'm in no great hurry at the moment." I say. He nods.

"Will that be all?" He asks. I nod. "Thirty dollars and fifty seven cents, sir." I dig through my pocket and pull out thirty one dollars.

"Keep the change." I slide the bills to him and grab my items and leave. I unwrap my sandwich and scarf it down, tossing the trash in the nearest can. Wandering around for a few minutes, I find a small cafe with outdoor seating. I grab a table and spread out a sheet of parchment, weighing down the top left corner with the inkwell and opening it. I dip the tip of the goose-feather quill in the ink, carefully considering my words before writing.

To Sergeant Dodgeson,

After careful consideration, I deem it prudent to move your squad and Sergeant Lewis' to Kips Bay. Considering the recent battles won on Montauk, I deem it highly unlikely that the British shall choose to attack there for a while. Kips Bay is very important to us and not heavily defended. Your two squads are both highly skilled in combat and would easily be able to hold out against a British attack to Kips Bay for long enough for me or my father to send reinforcements. Therefore, I wish your squads to be re-stationed at Kips Bay until further notice.

Best wishes and safe and swift travels,

General Hamilton

I look over it, satisfied. Not very long, but right to the point. I feel a flash of pride looking over my signature. I don't take my position of 'General' lightly. I earned that title. Yes, I rose quickly, but due solely to my strategic mind and quick thinking, on or off the battlefield. I carefully tear the roll of parchment off and roll it up, tying it with a scrap of ribbon that was in my pocket. At least one of the four things I always carry around is in there. I huff slightly in annoyance with myself and stand up. Now I just need to find a soldier who can take this to Montauk. Setting out at a brisk walk, I smooth my hair down slightly and straighten my jacket, adopting my 'General Hamilton stance'. Straight-backed, arms swinging only slightly at my sides, head held high but not high enough to be perceived as arrogant, marching with a purpose. I cut an authoritative figure through the crowd, full on General Hamilton mode. After a little while, I finally find a soldier on his horse, sporting the blue and dull white uniform I love so much. He sees me approaching him and quickly jumps off his horse, saluting as I near him. "Sir." He greets.

"Are you able to make the journey to Montauk?" I ask without preamble.

"Yes General." He replies.

"Good. I need you to make sure this message gets passed to Sergeant Dodgeson, it's of much importance." A look of fear flashes in his eyes. "Don't worry, the British haven't attacked yet and no lives have been lost, important or otherwise. Rest easy." I assure him, handing him the rolled-up parchment. "Now go."

"Right away General." He says, mounting his horse and making his way through the streets. I nod at his retreating figure and search for a carriage to take me home.

I forgot that you can't use different fonts on WattPad.  So letters are just doing to bolded then. Fuck. Oh well. Any questions, comments, concerns, are welcome, as always. Also if there's any continuity issues in this, that's because I took a break from this story for a little while and didn't bother to re-read it when I came back XD I don't think that it should happen, but if something later in the book contradicts something in the beginning, just go with what it's saying then. But I'm pretty sure that won't happen. Just warning you. Okay I'm rambling so I'm going to leave now bye!

-Bottomless