"Rosaline, you need to sit down! You look ready to collapse!"
The woman in question sent her younger sister a withering look. Of course she was exhausted...it had been a long day even before the attack that itself must have been hours ago. Even so, the Capulet woman could not bring herself to relax while she awaited news. She would never forget the sight of Benvolio going lax in the arms of the Capulet physicians she'd summoned; one of them was quick to assure her that he was still breathing, but she couldn't fully believe it. Not until he was awake to tease her for worrying.
"I will sit down when I have news of Benvolio's condition. How can I be relaxed when he is fighting for his life because of me?" Rosaline lamented.
"Then at least talk to me. Tell me what happened...how could this possibly be your fault? That Montague needs no help inciting violence." The way his name rolled off of Livia's tongue like a curse set Rosaline even more on edge than she'd already been.
"'That Montague' is my betrothed; if you disrespect him you now disrespect me," she hissed. Livia raised a surprised brow, and straightened instinctively. Her eyes dropped to the floor in unspoken apology. The surge of anger dissipated, and Rosaline wondered if perhaps she should sit down. With a firm shake of her head, she resumed pacing. "We'd spent the day discussing the wedding and preparing ourselves for the changes to come...he was just about to walk me home when we were interrupted." She paused, rage towards her aunt washing over her. "Three men attacked us...sent by Lady Capulet to...ensure that we do not go through with the wedding."
Livia gasped, surging to her feet and coming to a stop before her sister. "Lady Capulet ordered this?"
Rosaline gave a solemn nod, gaze flickering towards the door where her fiance lay fighting for his life. "She ordered me left alive...but if she had Benvolio killed, she could have her way and keep me from rising above the station she'd given us without making a martyr of me." She stepped around her sister towards the room. "So yes...this is because of me. Had he not been forced to marry me, our aunt would not have seen the need to risk all out war between our houses."
"You have come to care for him, haven't you?" Livia murmured softly. Instinct nearly had Rosaline denying the question, but warmth blossomed in her chest at the thought. Yes...in the weeks following the ordered betrothal, Benvolio Montague had begrudgingly worked his way under her skin and into her heart.
"I have," she whispered, as if admitting it too loud would shatter the tenuous hold she had on her composure. "I would not say that it has come to love...but I would dare to say that he has become my friend."
"What is going on? Why are you up at this ungodly hour?"
Rosaline turned at the voice of her uncle, and saw red. Lady Capulet stood beside him, looking for all the world to be just as confused and concerned as her husband. Livia stepped easily into her path, hands settling onto her shoulders before Rosaline could lunge at their aunt. "Forgive us, my lord, but there has been an attack."
"Oh dear, are you both well?" Lady Capulet questioned, placing a hand to her chest. Rosaline's fists clenched, and her body began to tremble. "Rosaline?"
"You dare feign ignorance in front of me?"
The Lord Montague turned to his wife, confused. "You do not speak to-"
"Would you like to tell him what you have done, or shall I, my Lady?" It took everything in her to keep her voice even, and she could feel her sister's worried gaze on her.
"I assure you, I know not of what you speak."
Rosaline could not contain the bitter, disbelieving huff of laughter as she brushed off her sister's touch and stepped around her. "You mean to tell me that it was not you who commissioned men to attack my betrothed and me? It was not you who ordered Benvolio Montague killed? That...these thugs just gave us your name for fun in the moments before one of them ran Benvolio through with his sword?"
Satisfaction flashed in her aunt's eyes before she was able to plaster shock and devastation on her face. Her husband inhaled sharply, eyes darting between the two women in shock. "B-Benvolio Montague is dead?! Dear God, are you hurt, child?"
Rosaline glared daggers at her aunt, unwilling to reveal the possibility of his survival. "I was not harmed...Benvolio ensured my safety. The only thing he was guilty of is fighting for peace in this city. He was the best of us...the one with the greatest likelihood to achieve that peace. Have you no idea what you've done, all for your own bitter jealousy?"
"Benvolio Montague was far from the best of us. He was the last obstacle to the House of Capulet returning to glory in this city."
"Guiliana," her uncle chided. Disbelief settled into his gaze. "Is what she says true?" The Lady floundered for a moment, clearly unprepared for her husband to challenge her. The Lord scowled, face paling. "You have condemned us all. The union between our houses was the last opportunity we had to end the bloodshed. The Montagues will have nothing to lose without an heir!"
Rosaline glanced over her shoulder towards the door. "There is yet hope that he will survive." She held her aunt's stare with a challenging smirk. The woman's responding sneer was both rewarding and unsettling, but her uncle drew her focus.
"He is not yet dead?"
"Hopefully not for a long while yet...but the physician has not given a report since we arrived." She resumed pacing, the feeling of her aunt's eyes tracking her making the young woman's skin crawl. The worry over her betrothed combined with the fury towards the loathsome woman left her breathless, and the concerned look from her sister suggested that her composure was faltering. She was somewhat surprised to recognize that she could not bring herself to care; where she once would have been in complete control over her feelings, this man had left her thoughts unsettled and her heart unruly.
"I am sure they will be out soon, sister."
"And what of the men who attacked you?" Lady Capulet questioned.
Rosaline felt the last of her restraint snap, and turned on her aunt with a growl. Her uncle moved to step between them, an arm around Rosaline's waist to restrain her. "You disgust me! You cannot even deny your vile act...you would rather see an innocent man dead than your own niece given a title! Those men that you sent after us? They are all dead. At Benvolio's hand...and my own." Her aunt took a step back in shock, and she smirked humorlessly. "He is innocent in your twisted scheme...but he is far from docile." She stared at her family, the smile falling. "It is improper for the Lord and Lady to spend too long in the servants' quarters and others will become curious. Perhaps it is best that you go, until we know Benvolio's fate it would be wise to keep this quiet."
Lord Capulet glanced between his niece and his wife, and Rosaline could tell that there would be quite the conversation between them before their inevitable meeting the following morning. She turned her back to them, staring once more at the door separating her from her fiance, and willing the physicians to give her some kind of news.