Having stayed in the Montague manor for many years, Benvolio is familiar with its blind spots, and it is these spots that he exploits now. He sneaks inside and navigates the servants’ halls, hiding from view. His only goal is to convince Lord Montague to turn against Julius. As the heir to the Montague, Julius is a valuable asset—one Lord Montague is loath to lose. It’ll be hard to convince him, but Benvolio has to try.

There is something in his favor—the one person who knows Julius better than anyone. Who, perhaps more than even Benvolio knew, would want Julius brought to justice most. As Benvolio rounds the corner, he spots him as he is leaving the kitchens.

“Mercutio.” 

Mercutio freezes as though he has been lanced through. Benvolio detects the tremble in his limbs, but pushes aside any sympathy and compassion he may feel.

“M-master Benvolio?” Mercutio says, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

Benvolio motions for him to follow and he makes his way towards his old chambers. It would be the safest place since he is sure no one is using them in his absence. Once they are safely behind closed doors, Benvolio speaks.

“I’ll get to the heart of the matter. Help me bring Julius to justice.”

Mercutio’s eyes widen.

“I have reason to believe that cousin of mine has something to do with Romana’s sickness and disappearance, among other things.” He holds Mercutio’s gaze. “I also suspect you’ve a hand in it as well.”

Mercutio’s heart sinks. A cold sweat forms on his brow and he tries to focus on his breath as his gaze falls to the ground. He grips his sleeves, bunching them in his hands.

“I-I don’t—”

Benvolio grabs Mercutio’s arms, pulling back his sleeves to reveal the scars, some healed and some fresh, all inflicted by Julius. Benvolio’s gaze hardens at the sight of them. 

“Julius did this to you,” he says softly. “Didn’t he?”

Mercutio hangs his head. Benvolio can feel him trembling in his grip.

“Maybe you didn’t want to do the things Julius ordered of you,” he says, releasing him. “God knows I can’t imagine what other atrocities my cousin has committed. Even now, a part of me doesn’t want to believe that his innocent smiles and kind demeanor were all lies, but . . .” He tightens his fist. “That is where you come in.”

“M-me?”

“I need evidence. My word will mean nothing if I don’t have it. There is a chance Julius has made sure not to leave any, but on the chance he has, I need it.”

Mercutio bites the inside of his lip, his mind racing. He shouldn’t be entertaining this; there is no hope of his ever getting out from under Julius’ thumb. The guilt, however, of knowing and not saying a word weighs heavily. The aftermath of Julius’ whims are forever burned in Mercutio’s eyes. 

“Wh-what kind of evidence would you need?” Mercutio asks.

“Julius is acquainted with Romana?”

Mercutio nods.

“They are childhood friends,” he says, fiddling with his sleeves, “and have often sent each other letters over the years. When Julius found out about you courting her, he felt betrayed.” Mercutio hesitates. “H-he believes Romana should belong to him alone.”

Benvolio’s jaw clenches. He wants to believe that if Julius truly cares about Romana, he wouldn’t harm her; that, besides potentially being held against her will—she is healthy and well cared for. Looking at Mercutio, however, makes it hard to hold out hope.

“Be honest, Mercutio,” he says evenly. “Do you have any idea where Romana is?”

Tears prick Mercutio’s eyes. He holds himself tight.

“I truly don’t know, Master Benvolio,” he says. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

Benvolio breathes deeply.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I just need you to get some of those letters. It’ll be enough to put suspicion on him, and that’ll be the first step to putting a stop to him.”

Mercutio meets Benvolio’s eyes. He knows that he should say no. He knows that he should turn and run and pretend none of this conversation happened—and Benvolio can see it. Loath though he is to believe it, there is no doubt this is Julius’ fault—he broke Mercutio so completely that the thought of going against him isn’t even an option. He places a gentle hand on his shoulder.  

“If you have any sort of human decency,” Benvolio presses, “you’ll help me, and in doing so, earn your right to freedom. Please. All I want is Romana to be returned safely.”

Mercutio bites his lip. How much would it cost him to be brave for once? To try and defend himself against Julius’ cruelty? Hesitantly, Mercutio nods.

“I-I’ll find your evidence,” he says.

Benvolio offers him a grateful grin.

“Thank you, Mercutio.”

With Mercutio taken care of, Benvolio makes his way to find Lord Montague. He finds him easily enough—sitting in his study staring out the window, a cup of wine in his hand. Benvolio enters on quiet feet, locking the door behind him. Lord Montague looks up as he approaches, his surprise quickly replaced with quiet anger.

“I banished you from this household,” Lord Montague says slowly. “You must truly have a death wish.”

“On the contrary, Lord Montague, I wish to live, but I can’t if the one I love is in danger. So for that reason, I have come to ask for your help.”

Lord Montague snorts.

“And what makes you think you have any right to ask for aid?” he sneers. “Let alone that I would give it?”

“I can promise you immunity from any crime Julius is found guilty of committing.”

Lord Montague frowns.

“What?”

“I know Julius has something to do with Romana’s disappearance, and I’m in the process of gathering evidence to back up that claim. A scandal of this sort won’t leave you untouched, but if you cooperate with me in bringing him in, I can promise the Montague name won’t be tarnished.”

“You have a lot of nerve to threaten me, boy,” Lord Montague growls. “What makes you think anyone will believe you? Evidence or not, it’ll be your word against mine, and half the city already believes you a murderer!”

Benvolio tightens his fists, fighting to keep his cool.

“Actually,” he says evenly, “it would be your word against Count Paris’. I’m sure you know he has been aiding the effort to find Romana. He has spared no expense and has spent many a sleepless night all to bring her home and the one responsible to justice. If you help him in this by turning Julius in, you’ll be guaranteed to be absolved of any involvement.”

Lord Montague remains silent, stroking his chin.

"Do you really intend to protect the one who could bring all you’ve worked for down?” Benvolio insists.

Lord Montague grumbles before sighing heavily.

“As loath though I am to admit it, you speak the truth.” He sips his wine, and turns his gaze back out the window. “That boy is far too volatile to leave to his own devices. Fine. I’ll aid you in capturing Julius, so long as you keep your word the Montagues will not suffer.”

“I swear, milord.” Benvolio bows. “And once this is over, you’ll never see me again.”

After securing Lord Montague’s promise to aid his efforts, Benvolio slips back out of the manor undetected.