It doesn’t take Lord Montague’s men long to discover the perpetrators behind the attack on Benvolio were Lord Capulet and his men. With new found rage and a desire to retaliate, Lord Montague prepares his men to march on Capulet’s land. Julius decides to use that moment to present him with what he found.

Julius stands before Lord and Lady Montague, Friar Laurence and Mercutio by his side. While the Friar wears a look of sadness, Mercutio keeps his eyes firmly on the ground, his fingers fiddling with his sleeves. Lord Montague sits at his desk, the Lady standing beside him. Both stare at the paper Julius presented with grave faces.

“Where did you get this, boy?” Lord Montague says, voice low.

“Friar Laurence said he found it after it fell out of Benvolio’s pocket.” He glances at the Friar who nods his confirmation.

“It was while I was helping him after he was injured, milord,” the Friar says.

“And you didn’t think to hand this to us?” Lady Montague snaps.

“I was quite distraught, milady. I was so focused on getting Master Benvolio help, it had completely slipped my mind. When I found it in my pocket later, I thought the best course of action would be to hand it to your son since we had arrangements to meet.” The Friar bows his head. “I never looked at the contents, but had I, I may have acted differently. Please, forgive me.”

“Mercutio can attest to the identity of the sender,” Julius says. “He told me he was there to bear witness.”

Lord and Lady Montague turn their attention to Meructio. Mercutio tries, and fails, to control his trembling.

“Is this true?” Lord Montague growls. “And you said nothing?”

“Y-yes, milord. M-master Benvolio threatened my life should I say anything.”

Lord Montague turns his attention back to the letter, the paper crumpling in his hands. The Capulet seal on the bottom corner didn’t look forged.

“Was this truly just a summons to attack him?” he says bitterly, “Or was it something more?”

“The real question is why would Benvolio feel comfortable enough to heed it without requesting our men join him,” Lady Montague says.

“Send for Benvolio,” Lord Montague tells his guards. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”

“I’ll go,” Julius says.

Lord Montague’s gaze narrows.

“You told me to act as his host, Father,” Julius offers with an innocent smile. “I’m only doing what I must.”

“Go with them then,” Lady Montague says. “And be quick about it.”

Julius hurries down the hall, all but giggling. He can’t wait to see the look on Benvolio’s face as all of his plans crash down around him. Julius knocks on the door, his face a look of sadness and guilt when Benvolio answers.

“Julius?” He glances at the guards behind him. “Is something wrong?”

“The Lord and Lady have asked to see you.”

Julius grabs his arm before he can leave, moving closer and lowering his voice.

“Mercutio told me you were attacked, but he wouldn’t elaborate. I grew concerned and when I learned that Friar Laurence was also there, I turned to him and well—” He squeezes Benvolio’s arm. “I’m terribly sorry about this. I wouldn’t have pressed had I known.”

Benvolio stares at him, a look of panic in his eyes. Julius leans away.

“You should go,” he says. “Father doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Benvolio’s jaw clenches. He nods tightly before heading down the hall. Julius hangs back and turns to the guards as they make to follow Benvolio.

“Search his chambers,” he tells them.

They’re eyes widen.

“Milord?” one says hesitantly. “But we weren’t—”

“Do you want to prove your loyalty to this family or not?” Julius growls. “Surely if he had one letter from the Capulets, there should be others. Search his chambers and we’ll see for ourselves if he is guilty or innocent.”

The guards share another look before nodding their agreement and entering Benvolio’s chambers. Hiding his grin, Julius hurries after Benvolio. After Friar Laurence provided him with a copy of the Capulet seal, Julius made forgeries to mimic a correspondence between Lord Capulet and Benvolio and had Mercutio plant them in Benvolio’s room. With his father already feeling slighted, and an actual letter in hand, he wouldn’t bother to check the validity of the rest. Julius hears Lord Montague’s voice as he arrives outside the study.

“So you know nothing of this?” Lord Montague presses.

“No,” Benvolio says, firmly.

Julius bites his lip, holding back a mirthless chuckle. So, he plans to lie, does he? he thinks to himself. It’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out, cousin.

He hears the guards rushing towards the room. And it appears that time is now, Julius thinks with a grin. He enters the room with a concerned expression ahead of the guards.

“Father, please be reasonable,” he pleads. “Surely there’s an explanation for—”

“Milord!” one of the guard calls, interrupting Julius. “We found these in Master Benvolio’s chambers.”

Julius glances at Benvolio who can’t hold back his shocked expression. It takes almost all of Julius’ composure to keep from laughing. The guards present their findings to Lord and Lady Montague who’s expressions darken as they glance over the papers. 

“More letters of correspondence with Lord Capulet,” Lady Montague says gravely.

“And that’s not all.” Lord Montague pulls a paper from the pile and reads with a sneer, “With all my love, Romana.” He pulls out another one. “Love, Romana.” and another. “Forever yours, Romana!” he yells, tossing the papers aside. He slams his fists on the desk, rising to his feet. “Are you going to tell me you don’t know anything about these either, Benvolio? That you can’t fathom where they came from or who this Romana is!”

Julius is no longer paying attention to Benvolio, his focus solely on the papers scattered across the floor. A blinding rage consumes him with every page he sees. There were more? How could there have been more? Had the trembling idiot lied to him and only taken a few? Julius tightens his fists.

“Were you even truly attacked?” Lord Montague demands. “Or was this all a ploy to keep me from discovering your deceit?”

Benvolio’s eyes sweep across Romana’s letters on the ground, each one precious. He sees her lying in her bed, closer to death than life. He meets Lord Montague’s gaze.

“I’ll admit that I lied,” he says. “I have been in contact with the Capulets, but only because I am in love with Romana.”

“What?” Lord Montague hisses.

Lady Montague sighs, rubbing her forehead. 

Julius’ gaze darkens.

“My only wish is to see her well again,” Benvolio says. “I have no intention to harm the Montagues.”

“But you already have!” Lord Montague bellows. “It's a wonder why Capulet left you alive when I would have left you for dead.” His gaze narrows. “He always was too spineless for the job.”

“Uncle—”

“I am not your uncle! And you are no longer a Montague. Get out of this house before I demand your head.”

Lady Montague interrupts as Benvolio makes to argue.

“That wasn’t debatable,” she says coldly.

Benvolio bites his tongue and leaves the room, his head high, his eyes focused ahead. When he leaves, Lord Montague turns on Julius.

“You,” he growls. “Damn you for bringing this before me.”

Julius swallows thickly.

“I was only thinking of the family, Father.”

“Thinking of the family?” Lady Montague hisses. “If you were truly thinking of the family, you would have burned that summons as soon as you saw it.” 

“Get out of my sight,” Lord Montague says. “All of you!”

Julius, Mercutio, and Friar Laurence file out of the room. Friar Laurence bows, taking his leave. 

“Follow me,” Julius growls. “And be quick about it.”

“Y-yes, milord,” Mercutio stutters, tripping over his own feet.

When they arrive in Julius’ chambers, he heads to his closet.

“You didn’t take all the letters,” Julius says icily, “did you.”

“N-no, milord!” Mercutio protests, hugging himself. “I-I took all the letters I could find!”

“Then you mean to say those were fakes?”

“I-I don’t know! Master Benvolio must have had them hidden where I did not see.” Tears course down Mercutio’s face. “Please, milord. I didn’t know there were others. You must believe me!”

“Remove your shirt,” Julius says, pulling out a whip.

Mercutio holds himself tighter, trembling uncontrollably.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” Julius hisses.

With a sob, Mercutio removes his shirt, exposing his scarred skin. Julius forces him on his hands and knees, and whips his exposed back. Mercutio bites his lip against the pain, tasting blood, but his screams eventually find their way out. All Julius sees are Romana’s letters. There seemed to be one for every day. The more he thinks of it, the angrier he becomes and the harder he swings. When Mercutio lays unconscious on the floor, blood spilling from his back, Julius’ anger has yet to cool. Returning his whip, he pens a letter to Chimere, asking to meet. 

It is time for the next stage of Romana’s punishment.

⬥⬥⬥

Chimere hurries through the streets feeling bittersweet. Of course she wants to see Julius, but with Romana’s condition not improving, it felt wrong to not be by her side. So, it is with mixed emotions that she approaches their alley. 

“Chimere, darling,” Julius says, drawing her in. “It has been so long, I forgot what a vision you are.”

Heat rushes to her cheeks, her eyes settling on the ground as a smile tugs at her lips.

“You are too kind, Julius. Truly. But I’m afraid I can’t believe you as I haven’t been sleeping much of late. I’ve just been so worried about milady.”

“Of course, but hopefully you’ll be able to sleep a little better tonight.” He squeezes her hands. “I believe I found someone who could help.”

Her eyes widen, hope filling her heart.

“Oh, Julius! That’s wonderful news! How soon can this person be summoned?”

He frowns.

“That’s the thing, darling. If Romana is to see them, she has to be sent there.”

“But–but that’s just not possible. Not in her current state.”

“It is if we send her in a carriage.”

“But I doubt milord would be willing to—”

“Who says Lord Capulet has to know?”

Chimere frowns, biting her lip.

“You mean to send her off in secret?”

“I do. With your help, I can send her in a carriage I’ve prepared, and I’ll personally accompany her to make sure she is safe.”

“How long would it take to heal her?”

“I’m not sure. At least, not until they see her.” He grabs Chimere’s shoulders. “I know this is a lot to ask, and the last thing I want to do is cause any undue stress to Lord Capulet, but this may be Romana’s only chance to be healed. I promise to have her back home as soon as possible.”

Chimere weighs her options as she searches Julius’ eyes. She knows he only wants Romana’s health to improve, just like the rest of them, but there is no guarantee that she’d be able to keep Lord Capulet from getting suspicious for too long. She thinks about Romana as she is now—there is only one option she can choose.

“Alright.” She nods. “I’ll help you sneak milady out.”

“Perfect. We’ll do it tomorrow night and not a moment later.” He kisses Chimere’s cheek and her heart skips a beat. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“But of course I would, Julius. You said it yourself. Romana is dear to you, and I feel the same.”

“Yet another thing to share.” He kisses her hair, and distances himself. “You should hurry back. Being gone for too long would draw suspicion.”

“Until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow, darling.”

Julius watches as she disappears, a wicked grin on his face before making his own way home. Finally, he can feel his anger dissipating, replaced by a new feeling—anticipation.

⬥⬥⬥

Benvolio sits at the bar, nursing his drink, frustration radiating off of him. It seemed Lord Motanague was quick to spread the word of his disownment; no one associated with the Montagues was willing to offer Benvolio a hand. Even those loosely associated with the Motnagues turned him away at the door. 

“So, you’re still in town.”

Benvolio glances over his shoulder to find Tybalt approaching the bar. He takes a seat beside him and signals to the barman for a drink.

“I thought you would have left by now,” Tybalt says, taking a swig from his drink. “But I suppose I should have expected you to stick around. Fools in love never listen.”

“Tybalt,” Benvolio says, “please, I have to know how Romana is fairing.”

“That’s none of your concern any more,” Tybalt says roughly.

“Can’t you tell me something? Anything is fine. I just. . .” Benvolio sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Nevermind.”

Tybalt eyes him over the rim of his glass.

“You really don’t know when to leave well enough alone.” He sighs. “Her condition is only getting worse. The remedies only offer temporary relief, and none of the doctors we find can seem to figure out what is wrong with her. Both Lord Capulet and Paris are losing their minds.” He takes a long drink. “Frankly, it isn’t looking like she’ll make it.”  

Benvolio tightens his grip on his glass. He drinks the last of it and rises to his feet.

“Thank you,” he mutters.

He climbs the stairs and heads to his room without looking back. In his room, he sits on the bed, head in his hands, and tries to keep his composure. He can’t afford to break down. Not when Romana still needs him. He has to think. How is he going to help her now that the Montagues have disowned him? While he is still confused and enraged about what happened, he can blame no one but himself. It was his actions that brought him here, and now he had to deal with the consequences.

Tybalt’s words echo in his mind, and he believes he’s found his solution. If they could just put aside their differences, perhaps they could work together to save Romana.