For I Have Sinned Written By Emily G. Fieldus
[Juliet's Point Of View]
[Based On Romeo & Juliet]
Three ~ III
-:- ~ Arrangement ~ -:-
"If it's mine to give, it's gone;
Lost or left somewhere along the way…"
- Marriage -:- Attack in Black
I sighed exhaustively, standing in front of the full-body mirror that had watched me grow and observe my body naturally form their curves throughout the short days of hearing the distant voices of Verona gossiping and seeing the smiling roses down below in their respectable place in our vast garden with a rainbow array of shades and colours. Then there were the nights, the dark ones where Nurse would rise from her sleep because of the noises I made as a result of fright in reaction to the yelping of steel and harsh curses that should not be bestowed upon the ears of a woman.
It was a few hours past morrow, and only mere days before our very eccentric and elaborate Capulet feast. Nurse had awakened me, informing me that somebody had come in search of me. I knew that it certainly was no handsome suitor. Father always began to sweat if even the word marriage was looked upon. Father is indeed a strong man, with a short temper – however, when it comes to the future of his daughter, it made him weak.
But, like I previously stated, no man had come to see me. It was Rosaline, my father's cherished niece. She had come to deliver great news, and I was yet to hear it. My patience was never worn, however, as Nurse brought me up well and has the same amount of patience as Saint Monica.
Yet, there I stood, with Rosaline's slender fingers curving flawlessly as they wrapped themselves over my shoulders as she gazed at my reflection as well. I could feel a heavy blush rising to my cheeks as she gazed at me with those cerulean blue eyes of hers; the eyes that could entrance any man she desired. Her figure was perfect in every way, and she even was in possession of hips that matched the size of an impregnated soon-to-be mother. Her skin matched the tone of fresh, smoothened cream and her lips were full. Even I confirmed within my mind that she was indeed, most fair. Rosaline was one of the most beautiful women I had ever let my eyes look upon.
"Do you think I should wear something more… Suitable for the feast?" She questioned herself, her lips pursing in thought as she stood beside me, resting her hands upon her wide hips as I frowned at my reflection. Standing beside my dear cousin made me feel like the beauty that I was in possession of was something unacceptable for any man's sight to behold.
Shaking my head slowly, I asked her. "However do you mean? You do know that we cannot wear whatever we please!"
It was never rare in our culture for us to wear clothing based on our position and social status in the city of Verona. Mother always taught me the importance of being a woman, while Nurse looked after my personal wellbeing as the only rich daughter of the Capulet house. Mother always said that since I belonged to a rich family, I would always find myself adorned in corsets that fit my shape perfectly and dark gowns.
"I know Jule'," she said, smiling at me with those lips that would be plenteous to any man who would be daring enough to touch hers with their own.
"I hope I get to wear blue this year. I had to wear purple for the last feast, and it looked absolutely horrendous!"
I smiled, recalling the memory of the dress she wore that matched the colour of the lilacs that were always in full bloom during this time of year in our garden in our vast garden.
"I do remember." At this, she frowned. I decided against bringing up my thoughts back then that I never expressed. I thought the colour she wore last year brought out the tone of her skin exceptionally well.
"It didn't match my eyes." She muttered, pouting as I withdrew from the reflective glass and sat on my bed. She turned and looked at me with entrancing sapphires that showed both innocence and purity, that would make any man instantly lost whilst on their journey to a given destination.
I decided to change the subject. I wished she had not brought upon such harsh words against herself.
"Any new suitors, as of late?" I inquired, knowing that she always had at least a pair of eyes remembering her unlimited beauty.
"One," she said with a victorious smile. She was the queen of shattered hearts; ones that suffered of unrequited love and wept at their bedsides as a realization that the saint they once gazed upon would never belong in their arms.
A smirked played with my lips as I smoothed out my gown.
"Is he a Montague?"
"Jule'!"
"If you must know, Juliet… It was a Montague."
My laughter paused, halting in response to how serious she was being.
"…Pardon, Rose'?"
"I let him know immediately. I informed him that I do not plan on giving my virginity to any man – especially a Montague." She explained, sitting herself down beside me as I kept my ears open. She continued on, "He left with tears of bitterness on his face."
She then stared at me with a smile, "I think you would've liked it, Jule'."
"That's preposterous!" I snapped, taken by both surprise and anger at the very statement.
"You would've liked the way he expressed his admiration. It was very poetic."
"Rose, you're being very rash! Do you believe I would fall in love with a Montague?"
"He's not much older than you, you know. The Montague son."
I opened my mouth to put a halt to her current brashness, but I was interrupted by a loud whispering that emerged through the polished wood of the door leading to my chamber. I looked to Rose in surprise, and to no expectancy, she was giving me the same glance in return.
((( - Based on Act I, Scene ii - )))
"But Montague has sworn an oath just like I have, and he is under the same penalty. I do not think it will be hard for men as old as we are to keep the peace…"
"Can you hear anything?"
"Ay!"
With my back pressed against the door to my chamber, Rose stood above me, trying to hear as best as she could through the wooden door that led to my chamber. In the most uncomfortable of positions, I rested my head against the door, shushing her as she struggled to get closer to listen to the voices that were withholding a conversation in the main fragment of the Capulet mansion.
"Jule', stop moving!"
"Rose, I shall stop moving when you… Shhh!"
I creaked the door open slightly, leaving us both cringing at its sharp cry. I looked through the new gap in my door, trying my absolute hardest to locate where the voices were coming from. There he was – my father was standing in front of a man who was giving his undivided concentration of his eyes and the attention of his ears in return to the conversation that they were holding with one another – majorly being lead by my father himself, whose face had grown bright red for reasons that I do not young gentleman before him, tall and lean, held himself high with an excessive amount of pride. He had adorned himself greatly in rich clothing before his arrival, obviously stating without a word that he had a great position and settled his feet upon one of the highest rungs of the social ladder in Verona, Italy.
"You both have honourable reputations, and it is too bad you have been enemies for so long…" The man responded quietly, the smile on his face growing wider due to the amount of confidence within his own mind and the determination within his own pumping heart.
"But what do you say to my request?"
"Request?" I whispered to myself.
The face of my father became red again, a deep colour that flared against his cheeks and dared to close his throat in anxiety if it was brought up again. The man before him waited anxiously for a response, tilting his head at the sight of the burning cheeks of the my father.
"Well? What say you?"
"I can only repeat what I have said before. My daughter is still very young; she is not even fourteen years old. Let us wait two more summers before we start thinking she is ready to be wed."
I began to feel my throat close and my eyes burn as the conversation between this man and my father ended. I cannot tell you why I was reacting that way, since many girls in Verona had been, and still are, married at my age. Marriage at such an age was a very common thing, but yet, it still sent chilly fingers tickling up my spine. For the past few moments, I had listened to my father speak to this suitor, and I had slowly gathered hints at the subject of their conversation that was being shared between them.
To my great assumption, I was going to become a bride.
"Girls younger than she often marry and become happy mothers." he retaliated proudly, his answers coming across as one of knowledge; and knowledgeable he was, indeed.
At that statement, the throat of my father began to close at the very thought of his own prized daughter becoming a mother. His eyes burned in slight embarrassment as my suitor stared at him, taking in his reaction that consisted of rosy cheeks and eyes that were beginning to widen.
"Girls who marry so young grow up too soon…" He said, pausing in thought as he began to relax and as his state of mind began to flee, he said,
"But go ahead and charm her, gentle Paris; make her love you. My permission is only part of her decision. If she agrees to marry you, my blessing and fair words will confirm her choice. You will be delighted by young women as fresh as spring flowers. Look at anyone you like, and choose whatever woman seems best to you. Once you see a lot of girls, you might not think my daughter is the best anymore."
Relief did not swallow me whole like I expected it to. It was surely possible, to the point where it was almost guaranteed, that he would find another maiden to his liking. However, I did not hold myself to the promise. I made the most effort to try and locate the man that was requesting to court me; however, he was walking in the direction of another room as my father muttered something about 'going left', so I was only able to get the glimpse of his height and weight. Slender and tall, I grasped, as I closed to the door slowly, my eyes wide in astonishment at this grand spectacle of news. I said not a word.
Rosaline, who had been accompanying me in this most unladylike of acts, had been listening as well just as much as I had been. I turned, gazing up at her in surprise. I was greeted by a pair of beautiful eyes that possessed enriching excitement as she withdrew from my door, wrapping a delicate arm around my lower back as she slowly led me away. I kept my eyes on the marble floor beneath my feet. I thought the room was beginning to spin as my head began to reel, like that of a child who had just finished her ride on the most magnificent of carousels.
"Did you hear all that, Jule? This is so exciting!" She said excitedly with a spring in her step, as the words of my father continued to make a weight emerge on my shoulders and my breathing thicken.
…Gentle Paris.
…Paris? Ay, that was his name.
…Make her… Love you… My cheeks began to grow hot at the astounding thought. I had never taken much thought to the matter. Love, that is. Marriage, too, had hardly ever crossed paths with my mind. My hands folded as beads of sweat began slithering down the crook of my neck. My heart raced. My face must have gone white, for I could feel it. My chest tightened as my chest began rising and falling more visibly.
"Ay, Rose." I responded absentmindedly, as she assisted me with sitting on the bed, as and my mind began distancing itself from reality.
All I could even think about was a wedding gown with a veil that blinded my vision in a transparent white, the Priest's words, exchanged vows, and a pair of soft lips that, upon being introduced to my own, would remove my name and introduce me to a position of being both a wife and the bearer of many children.
Authoress' Info For The Reader And Even The Shakespearian Scholar:
1) After Capulet says the line that ends with "confirm her choice", he begins talking to Paris about the feast in the actual play. I decided to cut that out because I plan out for one more chapter to be written before the feast actually begins, and I didn't want assumptions occurring that the "feast would be in the next chapter".
2) "Nurse brought me up well and has the same amount of patience as Saint Monica…"
Saint Monica, according to my online sources, is described as being the "saint of patience" in the Catholic faith.
3) Finally, I would like to apologize for the excessive delay in this project. This chapter never settled with me, whatever I did to it and however times I fixed it, re-wrote it, went to edit it, whatever. I can ensure you that this will not happen again. I also decided to shorten the chapter length because a lot had occurred, and making it longer would just ruin the feel of it. 4) The last t