Having just returned from diplomatic business, the Prince of Verona is received with great cheer and celebration, his right hand Count Paris by his side. A ball is set to be held in his honor and all lords and ladies are expected to take part, including those locked away behind manor walls.

Chimere watches Romana closely as her lady busies herself collecting flowers from the garden. She notices the happy grin on her face and the wistful sighs that occasionally leave her lips. Chimere chuckles, a little bitterly, as she addresses her.

“Keep sighing like that, milady, and you’ll sigh your soul away.”

“Oh!” A hot blush takes Romana’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. I just can’t help myself.”

“Thoughts of your paramour?”

“Yes,” Romana says chuckling.

“At least spring has come for one of us.” Chimere sighs. “What I wouldn’t give to have someone sweep me off my feet.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone, Chimere.”

“That’s what someone who’s already found love would say.”

“But I mean it!” Romana sets her flowers aside and grabs Chimere’s hands. “You’re a wonderful friend, and a kind and caring person. Anyone would be lucky to win your affections.”

“If I’m so great, tell me why I have yet to meet a suitor?”

“You just have to be patient.”

“Ha! Patient she says, when you can hardly keep still waiting for the moment you get to see your paramour again.”

“I—”

“Romana?” 

Lord Capulet’s booming voice carries on the wind, the sound of it sucking any joy Romana felt. She quickly distances herself from Chimere, grabbing hold of her flowers and resuming her task of collecting them.

“Romana?” Lord Capulet calls again. “Where are you?”

“Over here, Father,” she calls hesitantly. “In the garden.”

His hulking figure rounds the corner, a smile peeking out from his white streaked beard.

“There she is!” he says, arms wide. “My treasure!”

Romana’s fingers fiddle with the petals of the flowers in her hand. Prisoner feels more appropriate, though she dares not correct him.

“You have need of me, Father?”

“Paris and the prince are back in town, and they are holding a masquerade to celebrate. It will be taking place three nights hence, so there isn’t much time to get you ready. Paris will be attending you so your attire must be immaculate!”

“O-oh,” Romana stutters, struggling to keep the dismay off her face. “That’s. . .wonderful news! I am most looking forward to it.”

“As you should!” He laughs. “Just think, soon you and Paris will be husband and wife and having little ones of your own.” 

“That’s assuming Paris still wishes to marry me, Father,” Romana says meekly. 

“And why wouldn’t he!” Lord Capulet bellows. “No one can contest your beauty and grace.”

Oh, but they could since hardly anyone has laid eyes on her. Aside from Paris and the few ladies allowed inside for tea parties, not a soul in Verona knows what Romana Capulet looks like, let alone that she truly exists. She is certain Lord Capulet is determined to keep her locked behind these walls until she is married or dead. She should be grateful then for Paris’ affections for the past year, but the joy a bride-to-be should be feeling eludes her. Not only is her heart set on another, she knows the life Paris sees for her is no different to what it is now.

“If not you as his bride,” Lord Capulet continues, “then who?”

“I-I suppose, you are right,” Romana says.

“Of course I am. All you need to do is smile and his heart is as good as yours!” Lord Capulet chuckles as he turns to Chimere. “Be sure to find something fitting for the occasion. The finest dress money can buy. I want Romana to be the center of attention.”

“Yes, milord,” Chimere says with a bow.

Lord Capulet kisses Romana’s head merrily and goes on his way. Romana sighs heavily in the silence that follows.

“I can’t remember the last time we had a ball,” Chimere says cheerfully. “You’ll actually have permission to be outside these walls.”

“But I’ll be watched the entire time,” Romana says sadly.

“Not really. Everyone will be wearing masks. I’m sure no one will truly suspect who you are.”

“I wasn’t talking about the other guests.”

“Oh.” Chimere pauses, biting her lip. “Well, maybe I can help you sneak away? Give you a chance to get some fresh air.” She grins. “Maybe even a rendezvous with your paramour?”

That brings a smile to Romana’s lips. Chimere chuckles.

“Finally! She smiles!”

“Oh hush.” Romana playfully throws a flower at her. “There’s no guarantee he’ll be there.”

“He’ll be there,” Chimere says firmly. “And the moment you spot him, I’ll be sure to keep Paris and Lord Capulet distracted long enough for you to at least say two words to him.”

Romana chuckles.

“Whatever would I do without you?”

“Cry and mope?” Chimere rises to her feet, brushing off the grass. “Well, I better get started on finding us something suitable for the occasion. Who knows, maybe I’ll finally find the man of my dreams.”

“One can only hope,” Romana says with a giggle. “It would be nice to not hear you complain for a change.”

“Milady!” Chimere says in mock horror. “How could you be so cruel?”

They share a chuckle as Chimere makes her way back inside. Left alone, Romana studies the flowers in her hands, trying her best to lift her spirits with thoughts of her love, but only her father’s words seem to find her.

If not you as his bride, then who?

She sighs.

“Out of one prison and into another,” she whispers. 

⬥⬥⬥

Julius sits stiffly in his seat while Benvolio and Lord Montague discuss matters of state. He studies the way his father’s eyes shine with pride as he listens to Benvolio’s opinion. He hasn’t looked at Julius once, much less acknowledged his presence. Julius clenches the arms of the chair, the vacant smile on his lips firmly in place.

Ever since Benvolio arrived, Lord Montague has been monopolizing his time. Julius didn’t mind. It left him free to do as he pleased while Lord Montague talked Benvolio’s ear off. Unfortunately, Benvolio felt it wrong to leave Julius out and thought inviting him to participate a kindness. Had he posed the invitation in private, Julius would have simply declined, but his dear cousin had asked at the breakfast table, Lord Montague across from them. Julius couldn’t refuse.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you around, Benvolio,” Lord Montague says with a chuckle. “Your mind has been invaluable to me.”

“I’m happy I could help, Uncle. Julius?” Benvolio says. “Do you have any thoughts on the matter? I’m sure Uncle would like your input.”

“Don’t waste your time,” Lord Montague scoffs before Julius can speak. “The boy hardly knows his left from his right.”

“I’m afraid Father is correct in his assessment,” Julius says apologetically, concealing tightened fists. “I have little else to add.”

“A disgrace of an heir,” Lord Montague spits, shaking his head. “If only you’d come to town more often, Benvolio. I could use someone like you instead of this useless son of mine.” 

“Surely you jest,” Benvolio says. “Julius has his strengths, just as all of us do.”

Lord Montague hums, unconvinced as he glances at Julius, the jovial look in his eyes replaced with something cruel. It is a familiar look—the only one Julius’ ever known. He never would have believed it was possible for Lord Montague to make another, much less so easily for someone who wasn’t his son.

“He’s been a proper host I trust?” Lord Montague asks.

“I couldn’t ask for a better one,” Benvolio says with a smile.

“You flatter me, cousin,” Julius says, returning his smile all the while picturing his hands wrapped around his neck.

A knock sounds at the door.

“This arrived in the mail, milord.” the servant says after receiving permission to enter.

“What is this?” Lord Montague looks it over, brows furrowing. “It seems a masquerade ball is to be held in celebration of the young prince’s return. No doubt those Capulets have also received such an invitation.” He tosses the letter onto his desk with a sigh. “Well, we can’t very well ignore the Prince’s invitation. Benvolio, my boy, you’ll be attending too, no? It’d be a travesty to hide away the pride and joy of this family.”

“You exaggerate, though I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to at least make an appearance.”

“Excellent! I’ll have my tailors make you the finest suit possible.”

“There is no need—”

“Of course there is need! One must look the part when present among high society.” He turns his gaze to Julius. “I suppose you’ll be attending as well?” he asks with much less enthusiasm.

“If it pleases you, Father,” Julius says with a bow of his head.

“Hmph. I suppose it has been long enough that the excuse of mourning is no longer acceptable.”

“Excuse me, milord?” the servant says. “This also came in the mail for Master Benvolio.”

Julius takes note of Benvolio’s features tensing as he takes the envelope and tucks it in his pocket.

“A letter?” Lord Montague comments. “Who from?”

“An old acquaintance,” Benvolio says quickly. “I’ve been receiving similar letters since word of my return spread.”

“As you should!” Lord Montague says with a laugh. “You deserve to be recognized.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, there are other matters I must attend to. You two are free to go. I’ll see you at dinner, Benvolio,” he says, once again ignoring Julius’ presence.

As they proceed down the hall, Julius curses Benvolio for forcing him to bear witness to Lord Montague’s favor. For flaunting just how different they are in his eyes. This slight must be paid back in kind. A cruel idea comes to mind and he fixes his expression into one of curiosity.

“I assume that wasn’t a letter from your admirer,” Julius says.

Benvolio smiles bitterly.

“You have sharp eyes, cousin,” he says.

“Do you mind if I ask who’s it from? Receiving it seemed to cause you distress.”

“Don’t worry about me. It’s just another acquaintance of mine, as I told Uncle.”

“I see,” Julius says, holding on to his suspicions. “Well, should you need my help with anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. In fact,” he pauses, flashing Benvolio a grin, “how about I help you meet with your admirer during the ball? I trust they’ll be in attendance?”

“I couldn’t ask that of you,” Benvolio says.

“But of course you can! I’ve been put in charge of seeing to your comfort while you’re here. Consider it part of the job. Besides, I imagine you’ll have a hard time getting away from Father as I’m sure he’ll want to spend the night showing you off.”

“I imagine so,” Benvolio sighs. “Thank you, Julius.” He squeezes his shoulder warmly. “But are you sure you’re ready to attend such an event?”

“It’s a masquerade,” he says, waving off his concern. “Unless I reveal myself, I doubt anyone will know who I am.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“Trust me, Benvolio. All you have to worry about is enjoying yourself.”

Julius holds the smile on his face as Benvolio continues on his way. A cruel chuckle leaves his lips as soon as he’s alone. 

“What face will he make, I wonder, when I steal the woman he loves.”