It doesn’t take long for Romana to fall ill—in the middle of the night, her body sweats and her muscles ache. She falls in and out of consciousness, delirious and weak. Chimere discovers her in this state the following morning and Lord Capulet is quick to call the doctor, but with no one aware of just how she became ill, her affliction is not so easily treated.

“A month?” Lord Capulet says, a mixture of concern and disbelief playing on his face.

“Yes.” The doctor collects his things. “This should pass within a month’s time.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Tybalt asks.

The doctor sighs, his eyes falling to the ground.

“Then I’m afraid the only thing we can do is make her comfortable.”

Lord Capulet turns his gaze on Romana. She’s lying still, her breathing shallow. Sweat beads her brow and her complexion has lost all traces of health. He tightens his fists and turns his gaze from the sight.

“Is there really nothing more you can do, doctor?” Lord Capulet pleads, his voice rough. “Anything. Money is no issue.”

“I’m afraid I’ve done all I can.” The doctor bows. “Good day.”

“We’ll find someone else,” Lord Capulet says with conviction after the doctor leaves. “Someone more familiar with her affliction.” He turns to Tybalt. “Send word to all physicians in and outside of Verona. Do not rest until every last one has been reached.”

“Milord,” Tybalt says with a quick bow before rushing out of the room.

Gathering himself, Lord Capulet comes to Romana’s side. He takes the cloth out of Chimere’s hand and dabs at Romana’s forehead. He brushes her hair back lovingly as his eyes mist with tears.

“I will not leave my daughter’s life to chance!” he grits out before leaving the room.

Chimere turns her gaze to Romana, her own tears falling down her cheeks.

“You were so healthy and vibrant just yesterday,” she says softly, “but look at you now.” She dabs at her tears. “How could this have happened?”

Her gaze lands on Romana's desk where a piece of paper lies forgotten. She spots Benvolio's name with a quick glance, and hurries to stuff the paper away in one of her drawers, never noticing the empty bottle inside.

"You must get well soon, milady," she says with a rueful smile, "or your paramour will worry."

⬥⬥⬥

Benvolio paces in the hall, waiting for his audience with the prince. For days, he’s heard the rumors of Romana and Paris’ marriage. He feels the pressure to make this happen, to secure Lord Capulet’s favor and stop the wedding before it’s too late.

“Don’t worry, Mercutio,” Benvolio says, brows furrowed. “I’ll do all the talking.”

Mercutio, standing against the wall and fidgeting with his sleeves, snaps to attention.

“O-of course, Master Benvolio.”

Benvolio sighs, and leans against the wall next to him.

“Um. . .are you all right?” Mercutio asks.

“Just nervous, I suppose. I need today’s meeting with the Prince to go well. I don’t have much time.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage fine. Many people admire you, Master Benvolio.”

Benvolio chuckles humorlessly.

“Thank you for that, but I’ll need a lot more than charm to get me through this. The prince isn’t a fool.”

“What do you need from him? I-if you don’t mind me asking.”

Benvolio stares at his hands, opening and closing his fists.

“Power,” he mutters.

“Power?”

He sighs. 

“Listen Mercutio, before we go in to see his Highness, there’s something you need to—”

“Count Paris! Please wait!”

Benvolio turns in the direction of the voice in time to see Paris rushing down the opposite hall, a footman following after him.

“I must see her with my own eyes,” Paris says, determined.

Her? Benvolio thinks, straining his ears to hear more.

“But Lord Capulet already sent word about her condition.”

“I don’t care. I won’t rest until I see Romana. If she is truly as ill as Lord Capulet claims, then I will do everything in my power to see her well again.”

Benvolio’s heart sinks, his world tilting. Romana is ill? But how? For how long? He just barely manages to stop himself from approaching Paris when the servant calls him in.

“His Highness will see you now.”

“Master Benvolio?” Mercutio says when Benvolio doesn’t move.

“Huh?” Benvolio says absently. “Oh! Right. Thank you.”

Mercutio follows Benvolio into the opulent room. The prince sits behind his desk, showing some interest as they come to stand before him. A simple crown of gold sits upon his fair hair, enhancing his sharp features and adding an air of intimidation. He has the look of a man who rarely smiles, and whose good graces are hard earned.

“Mercutio,” the prince says, nodding. “I was surprised to receive word from you after so long.”

“For-forgive me for not reaching out sooner, your highness.” Mercutio bows.

The prince waves off his concern.

“We’re both busy men. It can’t be helped.” He turns his eyes to Benvolio.

Benvolio stares at the floor, his mind with Romana and her condition. The prince frowns.

“Master Benvolio?” he says. “Are you with us?”

“Master Benvolio?” Mercutio whispers. He places a gentle hand on his shoulder startling him. “Are you all right?”

He looks from the prince to Mercutio, his heart racing.

“I-I need to go.”

“Go?” the prince says, glaring. “I don’t think I need to tell you that I don’t allow an audience for just anyone.”

“Forgive me for wasting your time, your highness,” Benvolio says, bowing low. “I hope you won’t think ill of me when I come to call later.”

Without waiting to be dismissed, he heads out of the room, leaving Mercutio scrambling to catch up. Benvolio needed to know more about Romana’s condition; he couldn’t rest without knowing. With that thought at the forefront of his mind, Benvolio moves through the streets headed toward the Sea Maiden to find Tybalt, Mercutio hurrying after him. As he crosses the street leading back to Montague manor, Julius crosses their path.

“What a surprise,” Julius says cheerfully. 

“Julius,” Benvolio says, his quick pace slowing to a halt. 

“I didn’t expect to run into you.” Julius eyes narrow as he focuses on the man beside Benvolio. “And with Mercutio, no less.” 

Mercutio folds in on himself, his shoulders hiking to his ears, his gaze firmly on the ground.

“You should have asked me to attend you if you were heading out,” Julius says.

“Forgive me, but I needed Mercutio’s help with a matter I had.”

“Mercutio specifically?” He spares him a cold glance. “He’s been treating you well, I hope?”

“More than I can ask for,” Benvolio says. He clamps a hand on Mercutio’s shoulder. “Thank you again, Mercutio.”

“Th-think nothing of it, Master Benvolio,” Mercutio stutters.

“Are you in a rush?” Julius says. “It would be nice if we could have a meal together outside the manor for once.”

“Maybe next time. I still have business to attend to. I’ll see you both back at the manor.”

Julius’ eyes track him until he is lost in the crowd.

“You didn’t tell me that you would be attending Benvolio today,” he says cooly.

Mercutio trembles, struggling to find his voice.

“F-forgive me, milord. I never meant to go b-behind your back.”

He turns merciless eyes on Mercutio, a cruel grin on his lips.

“While you deserve to be punished for your transgression, I’ll let it go this time. In fact, this works out perfectly.”

“Mi-milord?”

“Keep helping Benvolio with whatever task he requires your aid with. Report every detail you learn back to me. Am I understood?”

“Y-yes, milord.”

“Good. Now, get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

Mercutio scurries off into the crowd, and Julius resumes his walk back to Montague manor. With Benvolio out of residence, now was the perfect opportunity to snoop. Checking the halls, he makes his way into Benvolio’s chambers and begins his search. Much to his frustration, however, he comes up empty. No matter where he looks, he can’t seem to find any evidence of Benvolio’s interaction with Lord Capulet. He slams his fists on the desk, scattering papers over its surface. He takes a deep breath and chuckles humorlessly.

“No matter,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll catch you eventually, Benvolio.”

⬥⬥⬥

Days pass, but Romana’s condition shows no sign of improving. Doctors come in and out of Capulet manor, sparking the curiosity of the people of Verona. Lord Capulet has developed a temper, and several maids have been removed from the house. Even Count Paris seems on edge, his appearance belying his lack of sleep, and he isn’t the only one—Chimere, sick with worry, refuses to leave Romana’s side.

The bells chime the hour, startling Chimere. She gazes out the window, biting her lip. She received a letter from Julius yesterday asking to meet, and though she wants nothing more than to run into his arms, the thought of leaving Romana’s side fills her with guilt. Again, the bells chime. Chimere tightens her fists.

“I know it is wrong of me to leave you,” she whispers to Romana, “but I’ll only be gone for a moment. I’ll call Hellen to watch over you while I step out. After all, I’m sure Julius is concerned for you too. I should let him know about your condition.”

Chimere spares her one last glance before she hurries on her way. When she sees Julius’ figure waiting for her in the shadows, her heart skips a beat and a smile, unbidden, comes to her lips. She can’t remember the last time she felt such joy.

“Julius,” she says softly as she enters the shadows to meet him. Her heart melts when he greets her with a smile.

“Chimere, my dear. I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

“I could never not come see you,” she says breathlessly. “After all, words on a page pale in comparison to seeing you in person.”

“I feel the same.” He takes a step back, concern clouding his expression. “Is something wrong? You look as though you haven’t slept.”

Chimere’s expression crumbles, a thick sob leaving her.

“It’s Romana,” she says thickly. “Milady fell ill days ago and shows no sign of improving. The doctor says she should be well within a month’s time, but. . .” Chimere sobs, hiding her face in her hands.

“Oh, that’s just terrible,” Julius says, pulling her gently into his arms.

“I’m not sure if you know,” she says tearfully, “but milady’s mother died in childbirth. To be on the verge of losing his only child,” she pauses to dab at her eyes, “I can only imagine what Lord Capulet must be going through.”

Julius knew of this for Romana had told him when they were young. It was why Lord Capulet kept her locked away as he did. As he should. And what a poor job he is doing of it, Julius thinks bitterly. If it were up to him, Romana would be hidden where no one would find her, her whole world dependent on him alone.

“How could the world be so cruel?” Chimere laments loudly pulling Julius out of his thoughts.

“Truly, this world is a harsh mistress.” He pulls away from Chimere, and holds her gaze. “Has Lord Capulet found anyone else to look at her? Surely someone must have a solution for what ails her.”

“Milord sent out a missive calling for any and all doctors, but none have been able to determine what is wrong with milady. They all say the same. Milord holds out hope we’ll find someone eventually.”

“Lord Capulet is right,” he says, holding her hands. “We mustn’t give up hope. I’ll join the search. Maybe I’ll be able to find someone that can help.”

“Oh, Julius,” Chimere sighs. “Would you really?”

“Of course. Romana is a dear friend and it would break my heart to lose her.” He caresses Chimere’s face lovingly. “That being said, you should try and get some rest.”

“It’s hard,” she mutters, leaning into his touch. “I feel as though I will lose her if I leave her out of my sight for too long. I even hesitated coming to see you.” She clings to his arm. “I’m scared, Julius.”

“Don’t be.” He kisses her head, pulling her into a tight embrace to hide the wicked grin on his lips. “She’ll pull through this. I know it."