Summers are hot in Verona, yet the people still brave the heat. They walk through the markets and squares haggling for goods and passing on the latest rumors and news. Their favorite topic? The ruling houses of Capulet and Montague. At odds for as long as anyone can remember, the people keep their eyes on their growing turmoil—some for fun, others out of genuine concern—all the while wondering just how this conflict will end. It is during one such summer day that the house of Montague is cleaning up an unfortunate mess. 

The loud clap of hand hitting cheek reverberates through Lord Montague’s study. He huffs his anger, face red and hands tightening into fists as he stands before his son. Lady Montague sighs, turning her eyes away from the sight.

“I told you not the face,” she says snarkily. 

“Twenty years of housing you,” Lord Montague roars, “feeding you, clothing you, and this is how you repay us! A dead body on our grounds!”

He slaps him again.

“Your name practically written in her blood!”

And again.

“That is enough, Durmad,” Lady Montague drawls. “Before he is completely unrecognizable.”

“He should be! Then we could cast him to the streets and be free of him!”

Julius keeps his gaze on the floor, hands clasped firmly behind his back. He made no move to defend against his father’s rage, didn’t so much as scream. Even now, his cheeks stinging and raw, his eyes give nothing away, but his lips—his lips quiver slightly with the effort to hold back a smile. 

“It's bad enough you dirty your hands with the help, but this—” He slams his fist on the desk. “You may as well have spit in our faces and condemned us to hell!”

“Calm yourself,” Lady Montague says. “It was a suicide.”

“The kingdom will say we have a murderer for a son!” Lord Montague continues. “We will be disgraced!”

“Durmad,” Lady Montague hisses. “Did you not hear me? It was suicide.”

“Suicide? The girl’s head was almost cut clean off!”

“It will look like one when our men are done.” She turns her gaze to Julius. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“No one of importance,” he says, voice monotone.

“Keep it that way,” she growls. “You are to remain on the grounds for two weeks. We’ll say you are in mourning.”

“But I am in mourning, mother.” Julius bows his head lower. “Rosaline was such a lovely companion.”

“Do not toy with me, boy!” Lord Montague bellows. He slaps Julius again, this one sending him to the ground. “Do you know how long I worked to secure this union?”

Julius rises to his elbows, spitting blood on the study floor.

“Guards,” Lady Montague says. Two men dressed in Montague red with swords on their hips enter the room at attention. “Lock Julius in his chambers. He is to stay there until we say otherwise.”

“Yes, milady!”

The guards grab Julius’ arms and haul him to his feet. As they drag him away, the Lord and Lady’s words reach his ears.

“You think the boy would be smart enough to at least kill her in some back alley.” Lady Montague sighs.

“He did it on purpose,” Lord Montague says, voice trembling. “He means to be the ruin of this family, and mark my words, Irvina, I will not stand for it!”

Julius remains silent as the guards take him to his room. They toss him inside like a rag doll and leave him on the floor, locking the door behind them. Alone in his chambers, Julius falls into a fit of giggles that turn into wild laughter. Tears stream down his stinging cheeks as the sound of his joy fills the room.

A timid voice calls from beyond the door.

“A-are you alright, milord?”

Though he can’t see him, Julius can easily picture Mercutio’s hunched form, the dark circles under his terrified eyes and trembling hands fidgeting with his sleeves. 

“If only you could have seen their faces, Mercutio. Father’s was especially priceless.” Julius sighs. “It almost makes up for being locked away.”

He rises to his feet and stands before a mirror. His fair complexion and blonde hair are his mother's, but his eyes—it may as well be Lord Montague’s cold brown eyes staring back at him. Julius runs his fingers over the red skin on his cheeks, the beginnings of a bruise taking shape.

“Do you think my face will heal before I can see Romana?”

“I-I’m not sure I would know,” Mercutio says.

“I’m sure she’ll be devastated when she hears the news,” Julius continues. “She won’t want to leave my side for fear I may want to join Rosaline in death.” He grins. “Poor thing. I’ll have to try my best to entertain her worry.”

“M-milord? What am I to do with the new—”

“Oh! You’ve prepared the room?”

“Yes, milord.”

“And the maid?”

“She said to not hesitate to call for her aid.”

“What excuse did you give this time?”

“I. . .”

“Out with it,” Julius says impatiently.

“I-I told her you were preparing a surprise for Lady Montague.”

Julius laughs. 

“A good enough excuse. Well, I suppose she will have to wait seeing as I won’t be getting out of here anytime soon.” He frowns, anger chilling his joy. “Heaven forbid I die of boredom.”

“I’ll be going then.” 

“Oh, and Mercutio? Don’t think you won’t be punished for this. You were expressly told to keep the maids away. So, I wonder what exactly you were doing that one happened to slip your notice.”

“F-forgive me, milord!” Mercutio says, panic in his voice. “I was careless. I—”

“Excuses won’t save you now,” Julius growls. “You have two weeks. I suggest you prepare yourself for your punishment in that time.”

A pause.

“O-of course,” Mercutio says.

As Mercutio moves away from Julius’ door, his legs give out, sending him to his knees. He catches sight of the scars on his arms, and hastily pulls his sleeves down. Tears blur his vision, and his whole body trembles as nightmarish memories play through Mercutio’s mind. His quiet sobs echo in the empty hall.

⬥⬥⬥

On the outskirts of town sits a small, dilapidated church. Cracks have overtaken the roof and walls, giving purchase to climbing vines. Only a few of its stained glass windows remain, and wildflowers and weeds compete for space in what once was a garden. A lone bench sits under a tree, its metal visage rusty and worn. It is in this forgotten place—so removed from the rest of the world—that after two weeks have come and gone, Julius and Romana are set to meet.

Julius sits on the bench, adjusting his clothes, fixing his hair, all while humming a jaunty tune. He is dressed in mourning, but his mood couldn’t be further from melancholy. At the sound of steps approaching, he schools his features into one of sadness, bowing his head and keeping his eyes downcast. Through his golden locks he watches as a woman emerges through the thick foliage.

Romana.

Her auburn curls peek out from the black hood she wears to hide from prying looks, and her eyes, a brilliant blue, hold sadness and worry. Julius fights the giggle bubbling up his throat, replacing the joyful sound with a heavy sigh.

“Oh, Julius,” Romana cries, running the rest of the way to meet him. “Julius, you poor thing! I was just beside myself when I heard the news.”

Romana engulfs him in her warm embrace, and he takes a moment to savor the feel of her.

“I know not how I can go on without her, Romana,” he says tearfully.

“I can only imagine the pain you must feel,” she says, her voice unsteady. She dabs at her eyes, unshed tears trembling on her lashes. “You were only just talking about your future together.”

“Why would she do this?” Julius asks, burying his face in his hands. “Why would she leave me in such a cruel way? Tell me, Romana. Is it me? Am I truly the reason my love is no more?” 

“Curse those cruel rumors and those who dared start them!” she says huffily. “Have they no shame?”

Oh, the rumors. Julius had heard them too, of course, on his way here. That Rosaline had a secret lover and was poisoned to cover it up or that she learned something she shouldn’t have and needed to be silenced. He thought the one about him killing her after having one too many drinks was particularly hilarious—he has no need for liquid courage.

“As if you would ever lay a hand on Rosaline,” Romana mutters. “You loved her.”

“More than life itself,” he whispers.

Romana’s eyes fall on his wrists. Her heart drops at the sight. She gently grabs his arm, pulling his sleeve up to reveal angry, healing scratches scattered up his arm. He quickly pulls away, pulling his sleeve back down.

“Are those. . .” Romana hesitates. “Did you. . .”

“You shouldn’t have seen them,” Julius mutters.

“Was that your doing?”

Julius turns his head away, remaining silent while struggling to keep her from hearing his giggles. 

“Oh, Julius.” She grabs his hands, squeezing tightly. “I can never fully understand the pain you are going through, but please, this isn’t the way.”

“Father would say otherwise,” he says softly.

Her eyes widen. She reaches for his face, brushing his hair out of the way to reveal the faint remnants of a bruise. Her breath leaves her, her fist tightening.

“As if any of this is your fault,” she mutters, her body trembling. “I have half a mind to tell him a thing or two.” She sighs softly. “I wish I could do more besides lending you an ear. You shouldn’t have to suffer at your father’s hand like this.” She frowns. “And you shouldn’t have to endure all those cruel people who don’t know the truth.”

Julius smiles sadly.

“Your opinion is all that matters,” he says. “The rest of the world could hate me for all I care.”

“But they shouldn’t! Everyone should know just how kind and sweet you are. Just because your family is horrible, doesn’t mean you are too.”

“If I was truly kind,” he says, staring at the sky, “Rosaline would still be with us.”

“None of that, now. Rosaline loved you with all her heart. I’m sure something must have happened for her to choose such a thing, but you will not blame yourself for this.” 

Julius suppresses a smile. If he could, he would personally thank Lord Capulet for keeping her locked away because if she wasn’t so deprived of interaction with the rest of the world, would she still look at him so? It is clear Julius is her world. She pulls him close, leaning his head on her shoulder. 

“Why don’t we talk about something else?” she suggests. “Take your mind off things.”

“Well,” he pauses, “I did find some new knives I’d like to add to my collection.”

For the next while, Julius talks of various blades—recounting their histories and uses with a twinkle in his eyes—all the while enjoying Romana’s attention. 

While Romana doesn’t share in his enthusiasm or fascination with the topic, she is pleased to see him looking happier than he had when she arrived. Bells from the church in town chime the hour, their echoes far reaching. Romana startles at their sound, her heart sinking.

“Is something wrong?” Julius asks.

“I was supposed to have left by now.” Romana sighs and squeezes Julius’ hands. “Promise me you’ll go home and get some rest. I don’t want you losing sleep.”

“I’ll try,” he says softly, eyes falling to the ground.

Romana’s heart breaks at the sight.

“I’ll pray for you, Julius.” She rises to her feet, pulling her hood into place. “I’ll pray every day until we can meet again.”

“Safe travels, dear Romana.”

“And to you as well.”

She starts on her way back to the Capulet manor, all the while stealing glances over her shoulder at Julius. She is reluctant to leave him in his precarious state, but she dare not miss curfew, lest she ruin any chance she has of escaping her gilded prison again. Moving as fast as she dares, she hurries through the town, keeping her eyes on home and doing her best to ignore the rumors of Rosaline’s untimely death. All the way, she holds her breath and doesn’t release it until she successfully reaches the manor grounds.

“Am I late?” she says breathlessly as she enters her chambers. 

Her nursemaid pauses in putting away the laundry to place her hands on her hips. The frown on her lips accentuating her dimpled chin and high cheekbones.

Chimere is only a few years older than Romana, and the fifth nursemaid she’s had since she could remember. The previous nursemaids had all been fired due to their inability to keep Romana from attempting to sneak out. When Romana had met Chimere, she was surprised and apprehensive when Chimere expressed interest in helping her escape. Surely she was jesting, but thanks to her diligence and charm, Chimere was able to win Lord Capulet’s trust and through that trust, he never suspected otherwise whenever she vouched for Romana’s absence. Romana couldn’t be more grateful or terrified—her good fortune could only last but so long.

“Are you?” Chimere says sternly. “Milady, you know I can only lie so much to the Lord when he comes looking.”

“I know. I—”

“What if I were to get fired? Then how would you sneak out whenever you please?”

“I’m truly sorry,” Romana says, head bowed. “I have no excuse.”

After a moment, Chimere chuckles, patting Romana’s shoulder lightly.

“I kid. You’re right on time.”

Romana’s shoulders sag in relief. She shoots Chimere a playful glare as she slumps into a chair.

“Shame on you for teasing me so.” 

“How can I not when it’s so easy,” Chimere says. “Forgive me, milady?”

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Not even for this?”

Romana’s eyes widen at the sight of the envelope in Chimere’s hand. Her heart skips a beat, her cheeks heating as excitement and nerves rush through her veins. 

“Came just after you left,” Chimere says, handing it over.

Romana takes her time opening the envelope before devouring the pages with her eyes. An exclamation of delight leaves her lips when she reaches the end.

“He’s coming back!” she whispers. “I can’t believe it.”

“Some good news?” Chimere asks.

“Wonderful news!” Romana says, holding the letter close to her heart. “Oh, Chimere. My heart is beating so fast. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. Do you think his affections for me will have waned during this time apart?”

“I’m sure he’s still just as smitten as the day he first saw you.”

Romana sighs, turning her gaze out the window.

“I pray it to be true,” she says softly.

“I must say,” Chimere says, returning to the laundry. “I’m happy to see you can still smile. I was worried when you left to go see the young Montague.”

“Oh.” Romana’s mood falls. Her sigh is heavy as she gently puts the letter away. “It was horrible, Chimere. You should have seen him. He was worse than I thought, and those nasty rumors are doing him no favors.”

“I’ve heard a few myself.” Chimere shakes her head. “People can be so cruel.”

“Indeed.” Romana stares at her hands. “Is it right for me to be so happy when he is suffering so?”

“Oh, milady. While it is tragic what happened, you shouldn’t let it stop you from living your life.”

“But am I not betraying Julius in some way? I mean, he doesn’t even know about. . .” Her voice dies, and she bites her lip, upset with her own cowardice.

“You’ll tell him when you’re ready.” Chimere places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You both will, and I’m sure he will be over the moon just as you were when he told you of Rosaline.”

“I hope you’re right,” Romana says. “I’d give anything to see him truly smile again.”

She turns back to the window and prays for the heavens to heal Julius’ broken heart.