I tossed and turned in my bed, get tangled in the sheets and my nightgown. In frustration, I kicked off all of the sheets, trying to let the summer night's air cool my overheated body. I waited for a breeze to maybe, hopefully circulate a fresher draft through the heavy, stifling air in my room.

Impatiently, I rolled my body around on the bed, which only did to warm my body even more. Stupid weather, stupid day, stupid, stupid, stupid. I resisted the urge to childishly scream my aggravation into the pillow.

I lay there for a few more moments, willing myself to sleep, but to no avail. Without thinking, I sat up in bed and determinedly got up. If the cool air wasn't going to come to me, then I was going to come to it. I marched across my room, stopping only to don my robe. Forgetting it had already gotten me into trouble once tonight.

As soon as left the doorway of my room and stepped onto the balcony, I felt the change. The summer air, while it had been drowsy and oppressive earlier today, was now cool and refreshing. I breathed it in deeply, taking in the invigorating crispness.

I raised my eyes to the night sky. It was a beautiful summer evening, very romantic. It truly was a night made for love, but I did my best to shake any thoughts such as that from my head. The way the night was clear with the stars shining brightly was the opposite of my thoughts at the moment. They were clouded, with no points of reason or reference. Even a few a few bright points would help me know which way to go and what to do.

I had always been the good girl. Or I had at least tried to be. The opinion of my parents had never been rivaled in importance. It was their approval that would flood my thoughts any time I considered an actions. This was the reason why my thinking was so befuddled. For once I had done something because I wanted to, not because I was worried about what they would think.

Or at least I thought I was doing this because I want to.

I was not so blind to see the way they thought of me. Despite all of my efforts, I was still only a trophy to them. My accomplishments were a reward for what they had done, not for any energy I may have put into it. And now they looked to sell this trophy.

They looked at me as a way to achieve more status. If I were to marry who they wish, then they would be one step closer to the power that they were thirsty for. And the money that they lusted for. I knew well the riches I could have, and they too would gain this money. They hid these motives well, but I had grown up observing them; they knew that they had not much time left, and they had things they want to yet accomplish.

And as I stood there, staring at the sky, I could not help but to question my reasons for marrying Romeo. Was it truly love at first sight? Was it what the great poets had spent hours composing sonnets about? Or was I doing it to spite my parents?

It was true that the sight of Romeo's face and the sound of his voice sent my heart pounding and my head spinning. And it was also true that I had not yet known his identity when he stole a kiss.

But it was only after I knew of his identity that I had agreed to our marriage. Married to a Montague? It would be a scandal indeed.

I took a deep breath then returned to my bedchamber. My mind was still racing as I tried to rest.

Eventually, I did fall into a troubled sleep, but not before praying that I wasn't making a mistake which I would regret.