Unfortunately for Lee, he had trash-talked about Washington at the wrong timing. Hamilton, who couldn’t do anything about it, was lucky enough to have his friend, John Laurens, engage him in a duel. He had no choice but to accept it. They were only given a few days to prepare.

And there he was, sitting against a tree as he gazed at the pistol in his hand, his finger wrapping around the trigger ever so slightly, as if he were to shoot someone or something. He didn’t want to be the one who was going to die, nor did he want to be the one who would live.

“Boy,”

The sudden voice startled the poor man, dropping his pistol as a result. Ah. It was his friend. Should he even call him his friend? It was more like Antinous forced him to accept him as a friend, in which he didn’t bother complaining.

“Did you think that was clever of you to do that?” He questioned, not sparing a glance at Lee as Antinous sat on the sturdy branch. “You already have his little guard dog send his pet to go and kill you in a few days.”

Antinous lightly swung his leg against the wind. “As your friend,” He wasn’t his friend. “I decided, why not help you out?” Lee could feel him staring through the back of his head. He didn’t like it one bit, but words weren’t powerful enough to get through Antinous’ thick skull he had.

Clearly, the Gods weren’t on his side. Why wouldn’t they be? He had run his mouth on Washington, even telling the general to go back to planting tobacco in Mt. Vernon. He hadn’t noticed that Antinous was standing to his side.

“Ahem.” His single eye glared at the pathetic excuse of a general. “Why do I even bother with you?” He groaned, rolling his eye. The other one hid behind an eyepatch, due to some fight or something like that. He didn’t know, nor did he even care.

Antinous yanked Lee up with the strength of a bear, causing the poor man to stumble forward.

“I’ll teach you all the lessons. I’ll be the mentor you never once had. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Right… friends.