Forty-Eight

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I made it home quickly, smiling as I walked in the door. "Oh, Elizabeth! Here!" I said, tossing her today's paper. I exchanged it for a shilling, though it was two. Everyone, mother included now that she was up, read.

"Who wrote this?" Mother asked. "Mister Levi Montgomery, a friend of mine." I said, crossing my arms. Elizabeth looked concerned.

"I didn't tell him anything. I didn't even know John Laurens was the Best Man!" I defended once my family gave me accusing looks. They faced each other. Who told Levi! Reporters, how I despise their anonymity.

Elizabeth glared at me, knowing why I showed her the paper. Revenge for the scare. I gave her a peachy smile and sat beside Cornelia, who was playing with her skirts.

Elizabeth snatched the paper for herself. "A large ceremony?! Mother, we said slightly mediocre!" She argued. Mother rolled her eyes. "It will be large, Elizabeth. It is the 'wedding of the century'!" Mother mocked. I snickered and they both glared at me. I frowned. Fine.

                                       * *

The day was so slow! The occasional glare from Elizabeth for winning our quick battle of wits. Now, it was about an hour or so before dinner. I was in my room sketching. I called this piece Maid of Horror. It was a sketch of Angelica. Half her face was happy a cheerful, the other half being crying and angry.

I signed the piece before shoving it in the drawer with all my other pieces. I sighed and grabbed more parchment. I needed to draw something more. Something deeper. Something...oh! I have it!

I placed my quill in the place started sketching. My plan was deviantly true. A two-faced person in my life. A man undeserving of his bride. I sketched and drew for several minutes, only to throw it away. "Ugh!" I shouted into the open air before beginning again.

I sketched and surveyed my minimal work. I begun again and felt the rhythm of the quill scratching at the parchment.

After an entire hour, I finished! I surveyed my drawing. Half was a cheery, enjoyable man. The seen side of, in the words of a certain man, Salamander Camelton, was light and happy. The other half of the paper, of his face. Is was Salamander, but his hair was disheveled. His eyes worn and age full. He had a single tear on his cheek, though his eyes filled with evil. His evil smile was crude. His face was shadowed over, behind him pure black. The piece brought me a furious feeling. This was the truth behind the man. I turned the page over and wrote the name.

Salamander Camelton.

I signed it and put it away, just as someone knocked. "Come in." I said, setting my quill aside. "Supper!" John said through the door. I stood and smoothed my red skirts before going to my door. I opened it and went downstairs.

I jog down the steps, the image of my art still in my mind, my fury still present. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of corn and potatoes. I sat down, looking to Elizabeth. She was discussing Angelica's speech with Angelica herself. They brought out the different sides of my piece.

Elizabeth brought out the cheerful side. Alexander was always so polite and courteous when she was around. He was loyal when she was around.

Angelica symbolized his disloyalty. Not that she is unloyal, because she is to us. She just is unfortunate enough to bring out Alexander's disloyalty.

I looked back to my food. I was unfortunate enough to bring out Alexander's disloyal side. I sighed and started eating, toning everyone out. Everyone had something to talk about with someone else. I didn't.

I poked at my food. My appetite suddenly vanished. "Y/N, don't you agree?" I blinked and looked up to Margarita. "Apologies, what?" I said, making some of my siblings giggle.

"Don't you agree with all of us elder sisters giving a small speech, Angelica giving the biggest, grand speech." Margarita explained. Oh. I nodded. "Yeah, great idea." I said. She gave me a concerned smile. "That means you as well." Elizabeth clarified. Darn it. I nodded and went back to my meal.

Great, now I needed to make a bloody speech!

Shy From The Spotlight - Alexander Hamilton x ReaderDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora