The night of the ball has come and gone and everyone is dealing with its aftermath. While Romana, locked behind Capulet walls, worries if she will ever truly have her heart’s desire, Chimere is quietly celebrating her good fortune.

Romana desperately tries to focus on the book in her hands, but her eyes keep reading the same sentence. Thoughts of her uncertain future with Benvolio weigh heavily on her heart. If only there was a way to convince him of the urgency of their situation. All she wants is her freedom from these walls and a life with Benvolio. The longer they wait, the further away that dream seems to be. Paris is an eager man; she could feel it in his stare and the way he held her. If he could have managed it, she is sure he would have wed her that night of the masquerade. 

She sighs after skimming the page of her book once more, no further along then when she started. When an echoing sigh answers her, she stares across the room at Chimere folding the laundry. She notices the dreamy look on her nursemaid’s face. Chimere sighs again, and Romana chuckles.

“Something on your mind?” Romana asks.

“Hmm? Oh.” Chimere laughs. “Sorry. I know this behavior isn’t like me.”

“I’ll say.” Romana sets her book aside. “Do you mind if I ask what has you so preoccupied?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to bore you.”

”Nonsense! You’re always listening to my problems. I can do the same.”

“Are you sure?” 

Romana nods, a kind smile on her face. It’ll be a good distraction from her own worries, she thinks.

“I think I’m in love!” Chimere blurts out.

“Really?” Romana says. “Was it someone from the masquerade? Were you able to get his name?”

“Well. . .” Chimere hesitates. “I’m not sure I should say.”

“Why not?”

“I just. . .” Chimere sighs, and grabs hold of Romana’s hands tightly. “Don’t think badly of me? I honestly didn’t mean for it to happen, but I just. . .”  

“Out with it, Chimere!” Romana says cheerfully.

“It’s Julius. Julius Montague.”

Romana’s eyes widen, her smile dropping. It hadn’t occurred to her that Julius would even attend the masquerade. A sense of dread and guilt fill her chest at the thought that he may have spotted her with Benvolio. Surely, he didn’t, but it is possible. She didn’t want him to find out that way.

“I knew you’d be upset,” Chimere laments.

 “No!” Romana says quickly. “Not at all! It’s just a little unexpected.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Chimere sighs, a happy smile on her face. “Love works in mysterious ways.”

“Did he. . .did he mention—”

“Rosaline? No. I believe he has fully moved on. At least, I can only hope.” Chimere turns back to the laundry. “What do you think I should do, milady? Should I reach out to him? Would it be too soon? Perhaps this is all one sided and I’d be making a fool of myself but—”

“Did he mention me?” Romana blurts out. “I mean, did he see me? When I snuck off?”

Chimere smirks. 

“Don’t want him to catch you red handed?”

“Oh, it's not like I’m ashamed!” Romana says with a huff. “It’s just. . .I wanted to be the one to tell him.”

“So why don’t you?”

“I’m not sure how he’ll react.” She sighs. “I don’t want him to think I’ve turned my back on him.”

“Have more faith in him, milady. You’ve been friends for ages. I’m sure as soon as you tell him the good news, he’ll be over the moon.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course. Why, a man as kind and gentle as Julius couldn’t possibly find fault with your love.”

“Assuming it still exists,” Romana whispers.

Chimere frowns.

“What do you mean? Have you called off your courtship?”

“No, but Paris—”

A gentle knock comes from the door and a maid pokes her head in.

“Pardon the interruption, Lady Romana, but your father is requesting your presence.”

Romana’s heart sinks.

“May I ask why?” she asks hesitantly.

“Count Paris has arrived, milady.”

“Oh.” With a heavy sigh, Romana rises to her feet. She turns to Chimere with a rueful smile. “I’ll return soon.”

Romana follows the maid down the hall, her gaze on the floor, hands holding tightly to the folds of her dress. She prays the visit will be short. Perhaps he was in the area and wished to stop by. When she enters the sitting room, however, the jovial look on Paris and Lord Capulet’s faces fills her heart with dread.

“Ah,” Lord Capulet exclaims, rising from his seat, “the bell of the ball has graced us with her presence at last!” He gathers her in his arms, kissing her head. “Was she not simply stunning, Count Paris?”

“Please, Father,” Romana says, extracting herself from his embrace, cheeks red. “You exaggerate.”

“But he doesn’t,” Paris says seriously, rising from his seat. His ponytail slides over his shoulder as he bends to kiss her hand. “You truly were the most beautiful creature to grace his highness’ halls.”

“Haha!” Lord Capulet bellows. “There, you see? A man who knows and appreciates your worth. Come. Sit.” 

He guides her to sit beside Paris, practically pushing her into his arms. She moves to add some space between them, her eyes focused on her lap.

“You wished to see me, Father?” she says softly.

“Count Paris has something to tell you.”

Taking his cue, Paris reaches for Romana’s hands, burying them in his own. Reluctantly, she lifts her gaze. Determined green eyes stare back at her. Her heart sinks. Whatever he is about to tell her, she knows she has no hope of dissuading him.

“My sweet Romana. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I’ve been struck by cupid’s arrow and I do not wish to be saved. The more time I spend in your presence, the more I wish to have you by my side always.” He tightens his grasp on her hands. “I wish for us to be married, and Lord Capulet has agreed that we shall hold the ceremony at this month's end.” 

Romana pales, her breath leaving her. She looks at her father’s proud grin.

“B-but—” she stutters. “I thought—”

“I know we said we’d have a spring wedding,” Paris says apologetically. “I will still make sure the hall is filled with flowers.” He caresses her cheek lovingly. “Only the best for you.”

“This will be the talk of Verona!” Lord Capulet says with a chuckle. “You will be the most gorgeous bride anyone has ever seen.”

Her world spins as Paris and Lord Capulet continue to discuss the particulars. She can’t seem to catch her breath. Though she tries to pull away, to run, Paris’ hold on her hands is firm and unmoving. He smiles at her, pure bliss on his face.

“Soon, my love,” he whispers, “we shall never have to part.”

Down the hall, away from Romana’s internal panic and dread, Chimere continues to busy herself with the laundry, humming a cheerful tune as her mind wanders.

A knock on the door interrupts her.

“The Lady is out,” she calls.

“Actually,” the maid says, poking her head in, “I was looking for you, Chimere. A letter arrived.”

“For me?”

Her heart pounds as she opens the letter. Her smile grows wide and her cheeks heat as she reads the contents.

⬥⬥⬥

As the sun turns blood red in the sky, Julius makes his way to an orphanage on the outskirts of town. Children run around the yard, their laughter filling the air as a nun stands on the steps calling them in for dinner. Amongst the children, a man dressed in the robes of the church ushers them inside, a kind smile on his face and laughter in his voice. The nun is the first to notice Julius’ approach.

“Lord Julius,” she says, bowing. “What a pleasant surprise. We didn’t receive word of your coming”

“Please, be at ease,” he says with a smile. “I’m only here to see Friar Laurence. When I went to find him at church, the disciples told me he was here.”

“Ah,” Friar Laurence shakes his head, “forgive me, young lord. It slipped my mind that you had asked to see me. Sister Francis had asked for my presence since it has been so long since I’ve seen the children.” He pats a boy’s head as he passes them to head inside. “I didn’t have the heart to refuse.”

“We don’t have much,” the nun says as the last child enters, “but would you two like to join us for supper? I’m sure the children would be delighted.”

“Perhaps another time,” Julius says.

“Yes, it is past this old man’s bedtime I’m afraid.” The Friar stretches exaggeratedly. “Those children really wore me out.”

“I see.” The nun bows. “Safe travels then. Thank you again, Friar Laurence. Please do come by again. You as well Lord Julius. If it pleases you.”

With a wave, Friar Laurence walks away, Julius following close behind.

“Did you honestly forget I summoned you?” Julius hisses as they pass through town.

“I’m old,” the Friar says with a bitter smile. “My mind isn’t what it used to be.”

“You’d be wise to drop the act.”

They slip down a deserted alley, concealing themselves from prying eyes. Friar Laurence sighs as he pulls out his pipe.

“The streets have eyes and ears,” he mutters as he lights his pipe. “You should be more weary of what you say, young lord.”

“Enough,” Julius says, irritable. “I trust Mercutio told you the details of my request?”

From his pocket, the Friar pulls a blue bag, the light tinkle of glass emanating from within.

“Slow acting poison isn’t easy to come by,” he says, huffing out a puff of smoke. “Much less its antidote. Sure you can afford it?”

Julius pulls out a pouch filled with coins and tosses it at the Friar’s feet. 

“I trust that will suffice.”

The Friar counts what he’s been offered before he takes another puff from his pipe and hands the bag over.

“A pleasure as always,” the Friar says with a tip of his head.

“There’s something else I’ll need your services for,” Julius says.

The Friar raises his brow.

“Do tell.”

“I need you to keep an eye on Benvolio. Watch his every move and if he does something suspicious, tell me.”

“Suspicious, huh? That’s a tall order considering the person in question. I doubt there’s a bad bone in his body.”

“You’ll be surprised what one will do with the right motivation,” Julius says darkly.

“Can’t argue with that. Speaking of motivation.” He shakes the bag of coins, a crooked smile on his lips.

Julius tosses a second pouch at his feet with a glare. The Friar chuckles.

“Consider it done, young lord.”

⬥⬥⬥

Several times during his visit, Romana tries desperately to persuade Paris to reconsider. He continues to insist this is for the best, and Lord Capulet wholeheartedly agrees. In the end, Romana keeps her silence until she is allowed to leave.

Chimere greets Romana cheerfully as she renturns to the room.

“About time you returned,” she says, her back to the door. “You’ll never guess what arrived when you—”

Her words catch in her throat at the sight of Romana’s tears. She rushes to her side, kerchief in hand.

“Milady!” she says, gathering her in her arms. “Whatever is the matter?”

“I am to be married to Paris,” Romana chokes. “By the end of the month.”

Chimere’s heart sinks, and her grip on Romana tightens.

“Oh, milady. I’m so terribly sorry.”

She allows Romana to cry in her arms, holding as tight as she can. She manages to guide her to a chair and coax her into taking some tea, but the tears continue to fall down Romana’s face.

That night, unable to sleep, Romana slips out of bed and sits at her desk to pen a letter to Benvolio. Her hands shake as she writes her words, tears blurring her vision.

“Benvolio, my love,” she whispers, “Please, there is no time. We must run while we can for if we do not, I fear I may die of heartbreak.”