⬥⬥⬥

Alone in a dark cell inside the Prince’s castle, Benvolio sits chained against the wall, his mind on Romana. He wonders if she is suffering. What horrors Julius must be putting her through. He tightens his fists. Tybalt was right. If he had been more thoughtful, if he had only heeded her words and left with her as soon as he was able, perhaps none of this would have happened. He heaves a sigh. 

He doesn’t look up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Doesn’t even flinch when he hears the cell door open. He assumes it's one of the guards come to give him water or bread.

“You can keep it,” he says weakly. 

“And what exactly is it I am to keep?”

Benvolio looks up into Paris’ grim face before he hangs his head once more.

“Come to wish me a final farewell?”

“I’ve come to break you out.”

Benvolio’s head snaps up as Paris pulls out a set of keys.

“What? But how? Why?”

“I asked to view Mercutio’s body before the royal physician got a hold of it,” Paris says as he unlocks Benvolio’s chains. “I found letters from Romana addressed to Julius on him. Though they were torn and bloody, I could make out her handwriting.”

“So, he managed to get it after all.” Benvolio smiles bitterly. “I’m truly a terrible person.”

“You couldn’t have known that Julius would kill him.”

“But I had a feeling. An idea at least.” He clenches his jaw. “I saw his bruises. Lord knows what others he was hiding. I should have gone in his stead.”

“I’m sure an encounter between you and Julius wouldn’t have turned out any better.” Paris turns on his heel. “Come. We have to move.”

Benvolio rubs his wrists as he rises to his feet.

“What about the guards?” he asks.

“I brought my best wine and convinced them to take a break. They weren’t too worried about you breaking out. They didn’t suspect that I’d help.”

“I’m sorry.”

‘If you’re truly sorry, then help me free Romana from that monster’s grasp.”

After checking that the cost is clear, they hurry down the halls, avoiding the ones more frequently traveled.

“While Romana’s letters are a start to putting doubt on Julius,” Paris says as they move, “we’ll need more evidence to convince the Prince he’s a threat.”

“I have an idea on how to get it,” Benvolio says, determined, “but we’ll need the Friar’s help.”

They find Friar Laurence in his church, preparing to close up after his sermon. Though he tries to protest getting involved, with a well placed threat and a promise of gold, he agrees to follow along with Benvolio’s plan to sneak back into the Montague manor. Dressed in the clothes of the disciples once more—his hood pulled low and his gaze on the floor—Benvolio accompanies Friar Laurance into Lord Montague’s study where his lordship wears a sour expression as he receives them.

“You better have a good reason for coming to call,” Lord Montague growls, swirling his cup of wine. “I’m not in the mood for foolishness.”

“Have no fear, milord. I mean no harm in my intentions.” He turns to Benvolio. “If you’ll just wait in the hall, disciple. I would like a moment alone with his lordship.”

“Don’t try anything,” Benvolio hisses under his breath.

Friar Laurence rolls his eyes.

“I am not naive enough to bite the hand that is feeding me.” He leans a little closer. “Oh, and I’d be careful if I were you. As you should know by now, Julius is a monster. An unpredictable one at that.”

Friar Laurence dons a serene grin as he pulls away and turns back to Lord Montague. Bowing on his way out, Benvolio keeps his head down as he makes his way to Julius’ chambers. He is taking a huge risk. He doesn’t know if Julius is home, but this is his only opportunity to gather the evidence they’ll need to take him down.

When he reaches Julius’ chambers, he knocks on the door, preparing his speech of being a messenger for Friar Laurence. From there, he isn’t sure what he’ll do, but he promises himself he won’t harm Julius in any significant sort of way until Romana is safely returned. When he doesn’t receive an answer, he tries the door and finds it locked. 

He glances around before picking it open and letting himself inside. Immediately, he is hit with the smell of blood. He covers his nose against it, his anger and regret resurfacing with a vengeance. Julius must have tried to clean the place up on his own, no doubt. He wouldn’t have been able to trust the maids with something so heinous. 

Quickly, he begins the work of looking around. He knows Julius wouldn’t leave anything incriminating lying out; he would have it well hidden, and so Benvolio would have to be creative in where he looked. He looks under the desk, chair, and bed. He looks behind curtains, and under rugs. He even looks through Julius’ wardrobe where he finds various weapons hidden behind his clothes, but nothing that outright proves his guilt. Benvolio growls in frustration, his hands pulling at his hair.

“Come on,” he hisses. “He must have something somewhere.”

As he is wracking his brain on where Julius could be hiding his secrets, he notices remnants of blood near the bookcase. This must be where Mercutio’s body once laid, he thinks to himself bitterly. He begins looking through the titles on the shelves. With a shudder, he quickly realizes that most are about weapons and torture. He pulls one and glances through its contents. 

He is unprepared for what he sees. The words are accompanied with pictures for demonstration, and all too easily he can picture these atrocities being done to Romana. He shakes the thought from his head, slamming the book shut and putting it back with more force than he meant to. The bookcase trembles, and he hears something rattle in the back. Curious, he reaches behind it and finds a compartment. He pulls out a plain, unassuming notebook.

“What are the chances?” he whispers as he opens to the first page.

A list of names greets him with single sentences beside each one.

Helen—repeated strangulation with the reins from the stable.

Diane—boiled water forced down throat.

Oriana—dragged through hot coals.

His victims and his methods of torture, each one worse than the last. Benvolio’s hands tremble as he flips the pages. How could Julius have gotten away with this for so long? How has anyone not noticed? He thinks about the rumors surrounding the Montague estate. They are constantly understaffed, no matter how many new servants they receive. His stomach turns to think this must be why. He has no doubt Lord and Lady Montague had a hand in covering this up. Well, Benvolio thinks bitterly as he tucks the notebook into his pocket, not anymore.

“Your time is running out, dear cousin.”