By the time a physician came out to the sisters, Rosaline was still pacing in a desperate attempt to keep herself awake. Livia gently grasped her wrist to catch her attention, and fear turned the eldest sister's stomach when she took in the exhaustion written into every line of the man's face. "Sir Montague?"

"He is lucky to be alive, milady, but he is alive. We have work to do yet, and he has not awoken...but I am confident that he is strong enough to continue fighting."

Tears slipped unbidden past Rosaline's lashes, and she squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Cerimon. I can imagine it is not easy to set aside our family name to save him, but-"

"Not all Capulets wish the Montagues dead, Rosaline. You are a testament to that yourself, milady...I have seen Benvolio attempt to keep the peace between houses on more than one occasion. Besides, I could not bear to see milady grieving any more were there anything to be done to prevent it." He glanced back over his shoulder when his companion called for his return. "Forgive me. As I said, there is still much to be done for your betrothed. We will inform you of any changes. You should rest."

"Thank you," she murmured. Livia squeezed her wrist again, standing to draw Rosaline into a hug.

"He is nothing if not stubborn, you have said as much yourself a dozen times, dear sister. Now that you know of his condition, would you please sit and rest?" Rosaline sighed heavily, finally allowing herself to feel the bone-deep weariness left in the wake of the evening's events. "Even if it is just here, where you can be woken the moment something arises."

In lieu of a response, the elder sister drew back and settled herself onto one of the chairs nearest the door. Unable to hold her exhaustion at bay any longer, sleep claimed her within moments.

Awareness returned to Benvolio in slow-moving waves. For a time, he allowed himself to float in the peace of half-consciousness, wondering what nonsense he, Romeo and Mercutio had gotten themselves into this time.

Then, a pulsing ache began to overwhelm him, and memories came rushing back to his mind. "Rosaline!" The Montague levered himself up onto his elbows, and instantly regretted it. Fire spread from his back and abdomen and stole his breath, but he forced himself to push through the pain.

"Be still, Benvolio! You will undo the work we have done! Lay back!" The stranger hovering over him pressed down on his shoulder, but Benvolio brushed him off, jaw clenched in determination.

"Where is Rosaline Capulet? Is she safe?"

"Go, this fool is going to kill himself if he doesn't see her with his own eyes!" Benvolio held his stare when the man turned back from the door, searching for any sign of deceit. "You are gravely injured, sir. I understand that you are concerned for your betrothed, but what good will you be to her if you are dead?"

Despite the man's apparent sincerity, Benvolio would find no peace with words. With a growl borne of pain and effort, the young lord fought to sit upright. "Benvolio Montague! Do not be an imbecile, lay back down!" The sound of Rosaline's voice was a shock to his system, and his gaze snapped to her face...ashen, weary, but with fire in her eyes. Safe...she was safe.

"Ros," he breathed. The surge of strength his fear had provided abandoned the Montague in his relief, and he gave a low moan as he fell back. "Bloody hell…"

"Breathe," Rosaline murmured, gentle fingers running through his sweat-dampened hair. He obeyed, if only because it was all that he could to to cling to consciousness. Once the haze of gray faded from his vision, and the seductive call of oblivion became a manageable whisper in the back of his mind, a wry grin tugged at his lips. "Only you would find humor in your near-death."

"Forgive me, milady...I simply find it humorous that it would be my near-death that brings out affection in you, exasperated though it might be." Too tired to open his eyes and look up at her face, he imagined the roll of her eyes and twitch of her full lips as she fought to smother a smile. The edge of the mattress dipped slowly, and despite his best efforts to conceal his pain, Benvolio was unable to stop a wince at the jostling. Rosaline murmured a strained apology, which he waved off weakly. He finally forced his eyes to open and trace the lines of her face. "I am relieved to know that you are safe."

"As I am relieved that you are alive...which I fear will not last if you continue to push yourself, stubborn Montague. Listen to your physicians, they have put too much effort into saving your life for you to toss it away."

Despite the stern tone of her voice, Benvolio had learned to read his betrothed well enough to recognize the undercurrent genuine concern. "Demanding as ever, fair Rosaline," he teased lightly. "If only for fear of your wrath should I disobey, you have my word that I will comply with their instruction." Even as he spoke, exhaustion began to reclaim him.

The young Montague despised how quickly his weakness was overwhelming him, but the tender affection seeping into Rosaline's eyes as he drifted off eased the protective instinct lingering from their ordeal. "Rest well, dear Benvolio."

Rosaline hesitated at the door and looked back once more to the too-pale form of her fiance. Despite his frail state, she could not help but be drawn to the firm lines of his bare chest. She followed those lines to the cloth bandages protecting his wound, and anxiety twisted in her chest. How had this man come to mean so much? How had he gotten under her skin so, that losing him would be truly devastating to her? Cerimon's apprentice stepped into the room, immediately assessing Benvolio's injury to insure it had not reopened.

"Is all well, sister?" Livia's timid voice drew her from her musings, and she turned with a nod. "Good...His Grace is here...he asked to see Benvolio, but Cerimon refused any others to disturb him. Prince Escalus wishes to speak with you."

Rosaline closed the door as gently as possible, took a slow, steadying breath, and followed Livia to where the Prince waited. Escalus visibly relaxed when she came into view, and he strode forward to meet her halfway across the room. Livia excused herself to give them privacy.

"Your Grace, pray tell, what brought you here at this early hour?" It bothered her that he clearly knew of the evening's events and of Benvolio's condition; her uncle would not have risked news getting out of the Capulet attack on the last remaining family member of Lord Montague. That sounded more like her aunt.

Escalus gave her a bemused look. "You know precisely why I am here, Rosaline. Were you harmed?"

"No, my prince. I am well. Benvolio, though, was grievously wounded. He woke briefly just moments ago, but I worry that he may have used more strength than he possessed in his fear for my safety."

"My apprentice is with him now, and will continue to monitor his condition as he rests," Cerimon explained to Escalus. Both the prince and the young woman nodded, and Rosaline squeezed his arm in gratitude.

"Speaking of rest...you must be exhausted after working ceaselessly to ensure his survival. Please, you have done so much, go and rest. After I speak to His Grace, I will have your apprentice instruct me how to monitor Benvolio so that he can sleep as well. I would ask that you are the ones to care for him until he is stable...I cannot be sure who else to trust in this house, and I will not risk his life further."

Cerimon gave her a tired smile, and bowed to both of them. "Of course, milady. I am grateful for the reprieve, and I will return soon. Your Grace, please excuse me."

Escalus nodded to the man before focusing all of his attention on Rosaline. "When I first ordered your marriage to Benvolio Montague, I can truly say that I would never have expected any concern for his wellbeing, let alone this."

Rosaline watched him carefully for a moment, trying to discern the unspoken meaning in his words. "He was willing to lay down his life for mine," she responded vaguely.

"Recount the events of yesterday evening if you will, milady?"

"If I may be so bold, who informed you of the incident?" Judging by the surprise and unease in the prince's eyes, Rosaline guessed that he was caught off guard by her unwillingness to be open with him. Where once she might have told him anything he asked of her, she now felt an unfamiliar sense of caution in his presence.

"A messenger sent by the Lady Capulet."

"Has this news been made public?"

"Not to my knowledge, and it will not by my court. Rosaline, what troubles you?"

The young woman took a slow breath, considering how much to reveal. "We were attacked by three men while Benvolio was walking me home. Two of them restrained me while the third engaged him...and the man ran Ben through with his sword while his back was turned. Even so, when the men turned their attention to me, Ben was able to dispatch two of them...and I ended the man that wounded him." Rosaline paused when her voice trembled. Recounting the event was more difficult than she'd anticipated, particularly the moment when her betrothed lost his ability to remain on his feet and she'd feared the worst.

When she stole a glance at Escalus, the same look of shock she'd seen on her Aunt's face was staring back at her once more. "Dear God, Rosaline…"

"It was not a random attack, Escalus. The thugs were commissioned to end Benvolio's life...to ensure that our union could not take place."

Guilt and anger replaced shock and disbelief, and morbid relief eased some of the tension in Rosaline's body. He was still the honorable man she'd known, he still sincerely cared for his subjects...for both Benvolio and herself. If there was anything to be done to protect either of them, she trusted that Escalus would see it done. His hands tightened into fists at his sides. "Did they identify their benefactor?"

Rosaline nodded, and pulled him to sit beside her. "The Lady Capulet was identified by the attackers, and she confirmed as much when I challenged her last night." She dropped her gaze to her hands, fighting back the emotion that tightened her throat. "Your Grace...I fear that so long as she lives, my aunt will continue to try to eliminate my betrothed, both to harm me and to ensure that I cannot escape her." She was relieved to see acceptance in his eyes, not a trace of disbelief or skepticism. "Ben...Ben is a good man, and I cannot bear to be the reason that he comes to more harm."

Silence fell over the pair for a long moment. Rosaline had seen a flash of surprise when she said 'Ben'...so much less formal than the prince had ever heard from her regarding anyone other than her sister. She had honestly surprised herself, but could not bring herself to correct it. "We will determine an appropriate course of action when the time comes...when Benvolio is healed. Until then, I would like this to be kept quiet. I will have my guard stationed here, to ensure that only his physicians and immediate family will be permitted entrance. Once he is strong enough to move, I will bring both of you to the palace for protection while we work to end this God-forsaken feud once and for all."

Rosaline could not bring herself to speak, but instead threw her arms around his neck. Escalus was startled for an instant before hugging her back, and it took everything in her to regain composure as all of the overwhelming emotions of the last day warred inside of her. The prince drew back, gave her a sad smile, and took his leave.

The young woman took a moment to steady her breathing before rising and returning to the room...her room...where her betrothed still fought for his life. The apprentice softly spoke through the variety of threats to watch for as he healed, and told her where to find him should something go wrong before they returned. Benvolio remained still throughout the exchange, and Rosaline dropped wearily into the seat beside him. Without thought, she reached forward and brushed unruly hair from his forehead, disheartened when he did not respond to her touch. "Please do not give up fighting now," she whispered, settling back into the chair and preparing for a long wait.