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Alexander had no doubt that he would be a soldier in the Revolution. He may never be respected as a leader, not in this day and age, but he would fight…
Of course, what he really longed for was to lead, to go down in history as the man who went down in history leading the charge to freedom.
Well-born as he was, he didn’t feel the need to stay the submissive man, willing to do whatever his wife wished.
Well-born as he was, he would never understand why for a man to love another man was illegal, while two women could marry without fuss.
Well-born as he was, he wished that he could be the one out there, tearing loyalists apart with his words. He was not less intelligent or eloquent simply for being a man.
Well-born as he was, he found it odd that their declaration only mentioned women created equal, even if it would be the men on the front lines dying for the Revolution.
(But, then again, he was adopted. Perhaps it was the scrappy orphan still alive in him…
Or perhaps this is simply how he will always be, in every life.)
“Revolution!” people cried, as always, the crowd somehow parting to show him… the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Poorly dressed, to an extent, and passionately speaking.
He was entranced.
And he found himself, without conscious thought, making his way forward.
She referenced the men and women alike as equals, male authors and writers who spoke of Revolution for their words as if they were equal to women.
And then…
Then she turned to him.
“You look to me,” she said, “Like you have your own words on this subject.”
Alexander Hamilton Washington smiled.
“You have no idea,” he said.