A Twisted Romeo and Juliet
Now, I am going to tell you a story. An ancient story of mythical creatures and magic galore. Indulge yourself in this richly layered story, for it holds many surprises.
Once upon a time, there were two families. The Volturi and the Galantiere. They were enemies, so much so that it was public. Every household knew, every child, every servant. They were both descendants of Italian royal blood, and this feud that had been so for centuries was mainly because of dispute over the throne. Both are rich, both produce splendid offspring, and both are equally competitive. The Volturi were wiser, the Galantiere more shrewd. The Volturi more beautiful, the Galantiere more graceful. They competed on everything. If a Volturi entered a competition, a Galantiere must enter, as if it were law. They were the richest in all the land, and ruled with equal hand, but they still stirved for total control. Now, there were two most lovely children, coincedentally one a Volturi and the other a Galantiere. Isabella and Anthony. Isabella, a multi-talented Galantiere, and Anthony a clever Volturi.
Isabella loved Anthony, but he longed from afar for her fair cousin, Rosalie. It was a sunny afternoon when everything would be changed. Anthony was sitting cross-legged on a stretch of wall around the marketplace, pondering his notebook in which he wrote his poems. He looked on at the busy marketplace and was once again swept away by the liveliness of it all when his servant broke into his trance.
"Sire? The carriage awaits. Your father wishes to speak to you, privately and immediately." Said the manservant, then dropping his voice to a low ring he added, "I hear that there will be a Galantiere ball today and Miss Rosalie shall be present." Pierre, which was his name, said, knowing that his master would treasure this piece of information. He was monitoring Rosalie's moves, just to be sure. He knew that the way to the top was to do what his master wanted.
Hearing this Anthony straightened out, stood up and drew to his full height. "Of course I must go. It is only natural that when a man loves a woman, he will strive to do everything for her. I shall go, with a disguise of course. I do not wish to know what would happen if the Galantiere discover who I truly am."
"Of course master. You shall be the young Master Lucas. A distant cousin twice removed. Minor, so not so much attention, but a big enough name for Miss Rosalie to pay attention to you. You shall dress in fine robes, and your father shall think that you are having a banquet with Fernandgarde." Pierre said, knowing that Master Anthony liked having these affairs planned already. Master Anthony did not have patience for these mere affairs, he was a man of rank and position.
"Thank you. Now I must go see Father. He must have something important to tell me." Little did he know that the news would bring his world crashing down around his ears. Anthony strutted back to his car, ever so proud. He liked being proud. He liked showing the world he was rich, had girls waiting for him to marry him, that he wore fine clothes and shoes, that he lived in a grand house. He knew this was what he always wanted, and how convenient to be born into a rich family!
He rode in the carriage for a while in silence, staring at the constant changing in the scene outside. Then he passed a familiar home. The Galantiere's. Lady Esme had an eye for fashion, and the home was the most beautiful in all the land. Sir Carlisle, and his mouth twisted down into an ugly grimace, was rich. Filthy rich. His home, on the other hand, was grand, but certainly not as beautiful as the Galantiere's home. His mother, Sulpicia, was not as well a taste in furniture things as Esme.
The carriage stopped, breaking into Anthony's train of thought. He stepped out in a trance like manner, and went up to the door. He stopped, brushing down the creases on his clothes and fluttering his robe, he opened the door and took the stairs to the immediate left. He walked up slowly. Why on my sword would father want me here so fast? He stopped again before the main bedchamber's door and then knocked slowly twice.
The door opened to reveal a man in his late 40's, wearing a gold and black cloak with fine clothes underneath. Inside sat an elegant lady brushing up her make-up using the mirror as a guide. Father and mother.
"Ah! My boy, you have come! Quickly, for your mother and I have something to tell you. Something very important and will make your day. Well, perhaps even your life!" Aro said joyously. Too joyously, Anthony noted. He was not a fool, and had a vague impression about what this 'something' was. He shuddered at the thought for he was not one to settle.
"Of course. Father, please continue." Anthony said calmly, trying his best to keep a calm voice, even though inside he was quivering.
"You are to be wed! To the fair cousin Angeline, no less. She is the most beautiful person I have ever beheld. And her mother is very close to me, as you sure know. She will make the finest wife, and you shall be very happy. Very happy indeed." Said Sulpicia, studying Anthony closely. She knew how much marriage meant to him, and she was not sure this was what he wanted.
Anthony gasped in surprise. "Angeline? Angeline?" He repeated. Angeline was beautiful, true, but her mind was as empty as a cardboard box containing Mother's favourite china statue.
"Yes, my boy. You will be a happy married man in no less than two weeks. We will begin planning immediately." Said Aro, not noticing that Anthony was choking in surprise. "She should be arriving soon." Just as the bell rang, and the servant appeared hurriedly.
"Master. It's Lady Angeline, come to visit." Said the servant, whose name was Toralyde.
"Send her in immediately!" Said Aro, who was extremely excited about this upcoming ceremony.
"Of course, Master." Toralyde bowed, and left the room. In a few moments a beautiful girl appeared in the room. She curtsied, and then stood motionless. Anthony tried to pick out her nice features. He tall nose, impeccably straight, her raven black hair that flowed down to her waist, her pale skin. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not summon even the tiniest morsel of appreciation for this girl that stood before him.