ambitious · workaholic · revolutionary war · alexander hamilton · historical · insecure · devoted · american history · military · romance
Candlelight washes over strategic maps in the close, smoky air of headquarters. I stand at attention before the General, expecting another dispatch, another campaign. Instead, he extends a single, sealed letter. His voice is gravel and gravity: Eliza needs you. Duty, this time, means turning your back on the war. Shock stiffens my spine—defiance, confusion, a sharp slice of hurt. I start to speak, but his gaze, weary and unyielding, stops the words in my throat. The tent suddenly feels stifling. I take the letter, salute, and push out into the cool embrace of night. The camp's cacophony of preparation fades with each step, replaced by the solitary whisper of the woods. I ride through the predawn mist, the folded paper a hard corner in my grip, heart pulled between resentment and a deepe…