7. Permission to Engage the Enemy
Finally the princess couldn't stand the stuffy confines of her room anymore and decided to take a walk to calm her head. The air was chilly and immediately Evelyn regretted not grabbing a sweater before she'd gone outside, but she was much to agitated to be cooped up for one more moment, and so continued forth from her suite and into the gardens below. In four years they had certainly changed; all the plants now grew higher than the princess and the roses and sweet pea intertwined with the ivy endlessly in and out of lofty decorative trellises. An occasional ancient-looking fountain filled with musically flowing water broke the rhythm of the flowers and trees that had nearly overgrown the winding stone pathways. If was not careful, Evelyn could have very easily gotten lost in the vast garden, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She would much rather be swallowed whole in this abyss of beauty than face the cold reality of the palace.
A rustling sound floated gently from the bushes behind her, and despite its innocuous tone Evelyn spun around in flight. What if she really did get lost back here? What if some psycho murderer mental-ward escapee had been hiding out in the trees and decided he didn't like the company? Her imagination ran wild with possibilities, though nothing could have prepared her for the figure that emerged from behind the towering tangle of red roses and into her line of sight...
He stepped from behind the bush and suddenly he could see her again, standing there absolutely terrified at his sudden appearance, infinitely more beautiful than he had ever before encountered her. Her face softened as she took him in, recognized who this stranger was, and he could see the play of conflicting emotions reflected on her face as surely as they were racing through his own heart. Was he wrong to think that maybe, just maybe, someone like her might love him back? Was it even possible to dream of such a world where a Montague and a Capulet could get away with so much as a friendship without the rest of their kin tearing them to pieces? Could love really conquer such an obstacle?...
Tall, confident, dressed all in white, he held a black scrap of fabric in one hand and a rose in the other. "I know I'm not supposed to be here," he said, "but I couldn't--"
Rick Montague had no time to finish the sentence, whatever he had intended to say, for Evelyn Capulet had taken his appearance as a sign of destiny and flown into his arms without a second thought. For all intents and purposes the ensuing kiss was turning out to be rather perfect, so he was quite taken aback when she suddenly averted her lips from his and leapt away from his embrace. "Damn it!" she cried. "This is not going well."
"I thought that went amazingly, actually, but if you'd like to try it again--"
"No, that's not it! It's just...I don't even know you, and I'm falling into your arms like I'm a lovesick schoolgirl."
"Well, aren't you?"
Evelyn drew herself tall, mildly insulted. "As a matter of fact, sir, I am most certainly not a schoolgirl. I just earned an honors bachelor of arts from Cairo University at--"
"I meant the other part."
"Which other part?"
He paused, tricking her with the silence. In the space he placed another soft kiss upon her lips. "Aren't you in love with me?"
She frowned, but didn't draw away from him again. "I don't know you."
"How do you know they're the same thing?"
"They have to be," she maintained, her weak defense quickly melting under his gaze. "You can't be in love without knowing a thing about the other person. What if you smoked or something?"
"I don't."
"Good. I could never love a man who smoked." She thought for a bit. "Do you drink?"
"A little."
"I figured. When was the last time you were drunk?"
Deceit or honesty? Lying to the only woman you'd ever really loved was probably not a good idea only hours after you've met. Rick decided to plunge. "Last night. I was arrested for disturbing the peace. Got into a bar fight with a little weasel named Parris."
Instead of the horror he'd expected his candor to elicit, Evelyn instead burst into laughter. "By any chance was his name Beni?"
"Maybe. Why, do you know him?"
"Yes, he's my--" Evelyn stopped short before she defined their relationship, or what hideous caricature of a courtship that had been forced upon them. "Let's just say I commend you for whatever injury you inflicted on the blasted man, though I'd appreciate it if you'd stay away from bar fights as long as you know me."
"I plan on knowing you for the rest of my life, Evelyn, so I can't promise that my presence will never grace another bar. But I promise the only fight I will ever instigate will be to pay back that horrible excuse for a man for whatever he did to you."
"Don't make promises. They just get messy later."
"Such a world-weary view for a lady so young."
Evelyn sighed, stepping away from Rick and into a pool of light cast by a nearby garden lamp. "Nobody's ever cared about anything but my name. It makes it difficult to form any sort of relationship with anyone."
Rick had to blink to make sure he had not fallen asleep, for her beauty under the soft light of the garden lamp was almost ethereal. "No, milady, your name is my curse. If I could I would strip you of your title and make you a beggar, just so you could be mine."
"You speak of your own gain. But what of me? What would I gain from such a match?"
He laughed as though the answer was obvious. "Me!"
Her mouth fell open. "How vain of you!"
"Perhaps, for I am only a mortal, and I seek the favor of a goddess."
Evelyn stepped around a trellis, only allowing herself to look at him through the holes in the ivy. "Please don't talk like that."
"Like what?"
"Look, I've heard it all. Every prince, every duke, every politician in the world has spouted endless words and poetry and promises at me just so they can get to my father. Such professions of love have lost their charm."
He peered around the edge of the latticework. "But nobody's ever meant it before."
The sincerity in his eyes threw her off course, and she darted away from him again, coming to rest finally on a nearby bench. "My title is what draws people to me. It is the only thing I have."
He sat cautiously on the other side of the bench, afraid she might shy away again if he so much as brushed against her. "That cannot be true. You're your own person. Only you can decide what you do and don't have."
She almost laughed. "Such profound thought I did not expect from you, Richard Montague."
It was now Rick's turn to be mildly insulted, though he hid it under a veil of sarcasm. "See! You don't know me, either. I bet you think I'm a complete scoundrel, and where did you get that perception from? The tabloids? If we are to believe the tabloids, my princess, you are an untouchable angel, marred only by an unfortunate connection to the political world. They seem to think you're perfect."
"I thought you thought the same."
He shook his head. "Nobody's perfect. Besides, that's not what you want to hear. I think you're a little standoffish, to tell you the truth. You don't let anyone get close to you, do you? Why not?"
"The truth? All right. Let's see. If we are to believe the tabloids, you are indolent, untrustworthy, and fickle. " Evelyn stood, ticking off points on her fingers. "You've had more girlfriends than there are women living in the capital, and you've been involved with but never been an official suspect in more felonies than I can add in my head. All in all, offhand I'd say you are a bit of a scoundrel, wouldn't you?"
He didn't seem to react other than to speak calmly at the bench where she had lately sat. "None of it's true, you know," he said softly.
"For all I know, it might be."
He stood, too, straightening the lapels of his jacket. "You want me to leave."
"No!" she cried, surprised at the fervor of his own voice. "Never leave," she continued, quieter. "I couldn't bear it."
He swept her over the bench and into his arms once more, nearly smothering her with kisses. "You won't have to," he said between breaths. "We'll always be together, I promise you that. I pledge to you my heart, my life, my soul."
She drew back, sure her ears were deceiving her. "Did you just say what I think you said?"
He laughed, setting her down on the bench and kneeling in front of her. "I would not say it if I did not mean it. I love you, I love you, I love you beyond anything I ever thought possible."
Evelyn fought to suppress the giddiness encroaching her senses and tried to come at the situation from a legitimate, levelheaded angle. "And how do I know this is not just a scheme to rob me of my virtue?"
"Because, dearest Evelyn," he replied, kissing her hand, "I have never before spoken those words out loud. Only somewhere deep within my imagination, where everyone dreams of meeting a person so wonderful and beautiful and perfect that they might even call them a soul-mate. Hardly any of us are that lucky, especially a man as unworthy as I."
"Words are just words, anyone can speak them."
"And yet here I stand--well, kneel--before you, making what most others would call a foolish mistake, but what I call the best thing that's ever happened to me. Because you see, my princess, my Evelyn, you love me, too. A thousand deaths I would gladly accept if it meant I could hear you say it once."
"Well, then, Rick, I must disappoint you." His distress was evident on his face, but instead of the departure he expected, she instead slid down to his level, practically into his lap, and placed her arms around him. "For I plan on saying it for the rest of my life, which would certainly be quite short if you took on those thousand deaths you speak of."
He rested his forehead against hers, relief washing over him. "I thought you meant to refuse me."
"No. I love you, Richard Montague, and I don't care about your name and I don't care about your past. I only care about you, and you're absolutely perfect. I love you."
"And I love you, my Evelyn, my Evy, my... Wait, wait, we have to do this right. Sit back on the bench."
Evelyn obeyed, and he remained kneeling in front of her, grasping her hands. "Ask me, then."
"As you wish, my lady." He bowed his head slightly, then his eyes met hers and held them. "I love you. Will you marry me?"
The simplicity of his words almost brought tears to her eyes. It was better than any flowery proclamation or extravagant scheme that any poet could have come up with. It was just the truth. No one had ever told her the truth before. "Yes. My life depends on it."
Upon her acceptance she fell into his embrace again and a long period of silence commenced, though this was more due to the fact that they were too busy kissing to bother with formalities of speech. After this had gone on for quite some time, they both felt they'd better end the increasingly impassioned make-out session before Evelyn's virtue really was too far gone. As soon as she'd had a chance to catch her breath, Evelyn remarked, "Our families are going to be horrified."
"I know. Should you tell them or should I?"
"Don't joke, Rick, this is serious. My father will have you assassinated and your father will have me excommunicated. They'll hate each other even more. It'll kill them."
"They'll just have to deal with it." Rick busied himself with playing with his fiancé's hair, already appreciating the instant familiarity that they'd somehow developed. "I don't care about my father; I don't care about your father; I only care about us. I'm going to make you happy, Evelyn, know that. All that matters is you, and I. Nothing outside of that is going to change what we feel for each other."
She kissed him again before responding, the combination of his words and the proximity of his lips too much to resist. "You can't be king, you know. I'll have to rule by myself."
"I know. And you'll be great at it."
"Not to be pushy, but when?"
"When what?"
"When are you going to marry me?"
He thought for only a fraction of a second before answering. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow!" she cried, a little shocked in spite of herself. "That's no time to get a wedding together!"
"What else do you need besides a church and a priest? Imhotep can perform the ceremony."
"He'll never believe you. Here." Evelyn reached around her neck and unhooked the clasp of the locket, placing around Rick's neck as she spoke. "Show him this, as evidence of our intent."
"He'll probably think I've murdered you or something."
Evelyn laughed. "Yes, probably. I've never taken it off before."
Rick paused. "Why for me?"
"I trust you. Wait! What about a dress? I need a wedding dress."
"I'm sure in that enormous closet of yours you can find a white dress of some sort."
"How do you know my closet is enormous?"
"I saw a special on Fashionable Verona."
"That's not fair. You've seen my closets and I haven't a clue how you live."
"I guess you'll find out." He kissed her before she could protest again and pulled her to her feet. "If I stay much longer they'll wonder where you've run off to."
"You're leaving?" Her face wore a mask of such disappointment that Rick would have reversed his words on the spot if he'd thought staying any longer wouldn't get him killed. "You've only just arrived."
"Can you get away tomorrow?"
"To marry you?" She grinned. "Absolutely. I'll tell them I've gone to talk to Father Imhotep. I used to spend all my Saturdays there, when I was younger."
"Never a Saturday like this."
"I'm sure. What time?"
"Two o'clock. Before evening mass, after the lunch crowd."
"I can't wait. I love you."
He kissed her one last time, savoring the perfection of the moment and praying to Osiris that many more would come over the course of their lifetimes. He did not stop to think that it was strange he should feel emotions so intensely for a girl he'd only met two hours ago. It felt right, truer than anything else he'd ever said or done in his life. Reluctantly he broke the kiss, whispered, "I love you, my Evelyn," and scurried off into the darkness of the surrounding garden before he completely lost his sanity.
As night enveloped her betrothed's retreating form, Evelyn looked up at the stars. A shooting star flickered across the sky, caught only in the corner of her eye but burned in her memory for all time. A good luck charm, an omen of blessing from the gods above. A perfect ending to a perfect night. She prayed that all the days of her life would be equally as wonderful, and knew that as long as Rick was in them, they would be.
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r e v i e w :):):)
