~|Cyrus POV|~
•|1763, Virginia|•

What could this mean for the world? The British Empire was growing faster than any other power in the world could conceive. If this war was truly over - which on the third attempt seemed unlikely - I had to know. This would change everything.

And so I ran. Ran as fast as I could possibly. "Hey!" I called after the man who had passed by only a moment ago. Upon hearing my call, he seemed to stop after a moment, turning around to see my attempt to catch him. I stopped before him, panting.

"France has been beaten?" I mirrored him. The man was tall, skinny and had hair which seemed to still look perfectly formal despite his running around. He nodded and began to turn around again to run down the pathway, but I tugged at him. I needed to know more; hell, I deserved to know more. My father was part of this whole thing only a few years ago and was killed. If his fighting for Britain was worth anything, I needed to know his death was not in vain.

Alas, my eagerness was not to the appreciation of this man, who shoved me off his side and began to run. Only a few moments ago I was in control and I rather wished for it to return. So, once again, I ran. My legs weren't built for running, it must be said. As they fluttered about in every direction, I did somehow manage to keep a close pace with this mystery man who was keeping this damned information from me.

As we reached a clearing, he stopped. There were people around doing their daily tasks. So he wanted to spread the word, ey? I stopped behind him and as he turned around to see me, I noticed the irritation he had. His bushy eyebrows folded onto his eyes and I could tell that my presence was unwanted but I needed to know.

I didn't quite see it coming, it must be said. A fist blasted its way towards my face in an instant, battering it with bloody turmoil. Through the shock of such an attack upon my face, I stumbled back into a bush and watched as he dashed off.

E x c u s e   m e ,   s i r

You can't just punch me. Our family isn't rich, per se, but I'd like to see myself as respectable and mature. Alas, status is all too important. If I were King, he would not have done that. Of course, the King is of God so that would be absurd. But if I were rich, too, it would be a different story. Who was he to punch me?

"Mr Harris!" I called out to one of the locals whom I'd grown familiar with. He was fairly talented in the culinary business; I'd had the privilege to once have tasted one of his loaves of bread and it was one of the finest things I've ever consumed. His bakeshop was one of the most wondrous places I had ever visited.

"Cyrus!" He called out merrily to me.

"Do you know who that boy was?" I asked him, moving closer as to not be including everybody into our conversation (especially Mr Gray who would use any word I spoke wrong to accuse me of a 'spy from beyond the stars'). Mr Harris looked by at the final glimpse of this boy and immediately recognised.

"Ah yes!" He chuckled.

"He's the coachman!"

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N

Hi guys, hope you're enjoying the story. In case you're wondering who the hell this character is from HHIEOY, it's the coachman from the beginning. But he's just not yet, I guess.

Thought I'd point that out considering I'm making everything super confusing by introducing another coachman.

Bye for now.