Erprinz Fredrich pondered his future as he rode on the highway to Stonew. He was still frustrated with his father for condemning him to a period of exile in a foreign land, albeit as training to command the electoral forces. As the second son this was the normal role, but to send him to Frundsberg! and with the specific instruction that he should be treated as any other entrant to the Kreigsakademie with no respect for his status. However he had shown them he was more than capable, especially having won the coveted silver orb for fencing.
He was now in his final year as as a senior cadet and to his dismay sent, like all the other senior cadets, to check on the status of the militia garrisons. The assignment couldn't have been worse as the garrison was over a days ride away and the wench in the Saracenerkopf Tavern was just succumbing to his charms. He couldn't argue his way out of his mission as all the tasks were written out on paper and then put in a large ancient urn for the cadets to select in turn.
OK, so the mission was to check on the garrison's alertness, therefore rather than use his cadet uniform he took the opportunity to wear his uniform as a captain of the Liebgarde, an expensive blue uniform trimmed with red and gold lace, and therefore he would not be so obviously carrying out an inspection.
He suddenly broke from his thoughts, as a horseman came pounding up the road, and pulled up his horse expecting the horseman to stop. But to his surprise the man just galloped by splattering him with mud from the puddles in the road.
"Verdamm" passed his lips "these bourgeois need to respect their betters" and contemplated the fast receding back of the rider dressed in the green uniform of the post and customs department. Frederich decided not to chase after the man and chastise him, although he was sure his horse was more than capable, after all his mail was delivered on time and seemed to be unopened.
It was then that the heavens opened and his fine uniform lost it's sheen as the rain evenly spread the mud splatters into a more even pattern. As he rode on even his bicorne began to droop and by the time he was approaching Stonew he was feeling damp, cold and angry.