Here Come the Capulets

June 1515 (Three Years Earlier)

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown"

Contessa Capulet, mother and matriarch, was admired by many in Verona. She was known as a fair and strong woman, one whom one did not need to question or wish to cross. When provoked, she acted decisively, but rarely in anger. She did not hesitate to be forgiving or harsh when it was the right course, whether in her home or the Council Chambers. The wisdom that came with age had seen her through the dark and turbulent period following her daughter's murder, and many blessed her for doing so without plunging the country into war. The loss naturally made her value peace and family more than she previous had, but she remained sharp and vigorous. Everyone, including Contessa herself, expected her to live to a ripe old age. 

When Consort woke, he found his wife lying still atop the covers. He struggled in vain to revive his wife, though she was already cold and stiff. Death's hand had left no outward mark to lend reason to grief. His granddaughters, Juliette and Hermia, were drawn into the chamber by his commotion. Both girls began to weep, and Consort stood still upon his spot, searing this dreadful sight into his memory. 

The house might then have descended into chaos, for it was Contessa who would have taken charge in such a dire situation. Anguished though she was, Juliette realized that someone had to shoulder the burden of the moment and that her grandfather was not yet able to do so. She sent the Manor's fastest rider to fetch her brother, Tybalt, who was studying at the Académie. A few hours later, she sent other riders to bring the sad news to her aunts and uncle.

Goneril was the eldest of Contessa and Consort's children and had been raised as the heiress to her mother. She was no great beauty and never mistaken for someone with a tender heart, but she was intelligent and did her duty to her family, as she saw it. In a matriarchal family such as theirs, it was the tradition for leadership of the family to pass from mother to firstborn daughter. In the case of a Lady Capulet, this included not only headship of a powerful noble house and a place among the wider council of nobles but also a position as one of the four Governors of Verona. Goneril adhered strongly to Capulet traditions, including those of inheritance. Since she had learned to talk, her life had been dedicated to becoming the most powerful woman in the country. 

The second-eldest, Regan, was Goneril's shadow. She was a bit less intelligent and a good deal more violent than her elder sister. Life had not set Regan up to be powerful in her own right, and so she carved out a place at her sister's side. When they were younger, Regan had resented the situation more. Time had conditioned Regan to make her sister's opinions her own, unless her own position was threatened. The two trusted each other above all others. 

One thing the sisters did not share was Regan's soft spot for their only brother, Kent. His disinterest in women, an open family secret, had badly damaged his relationship with their parents. Their mother had tried to turn a blind eye so long as Kent did not embarrass the family, but their father's disdain had made it impossible for Kent to live at the Manor. His troubles had made Kent withdrawn and listless, with no place in the family or in the wider world. Regan had been his only protector for much of his life, and his gratitude for this fed Regan's pride, for nobody else had ever needed her in such a way. Thus, she invited Kent to live with her and her husband. All the household eventually found it a satisfactory arrangement.

After the funeral, the older members of the family gathered in the family crypt for a private farewell. The crypt was old and crowded, but room had been made in one chamber to permit a more fitting display for a beloved matriarch. The grandeur of the display did not bring Consort much comfort. This terror of leaving Contessa entombed in the crypt could have been shared with his son, if his son dared to come to his father's notice.

Hermia and Miranda cried together, sincerely devastated by the loss of their grandmother. Their feelings were so similar that they had instantly bonded beyond anything they had shared before as cousins. Mutual grief made them feel as close as sisters.

To the side, an inconsolable Juliette wept in fear of a future without her grandmother's protection. She would not listen to her brother, who would be returning to the Académie after mourning, when he said that nothing awful would happen to any of them. She resented him for being in a position to flee, to have a life independent of the family for a time. For all the great Capulet traditions, she would never be allowed to, no matter how unbearable that family life was. She was sure it was going to be terrible.

Goneril and Regan flushed away their emotions during the funeral. In the crypt, they spoke quietly between themselves regarding their mother's will. Both agreed that their father looked unwell and would have to be urged to take on a less active role - all for his benefit, naturally.

The sisters' plans were upturned at the reading of Contessa's will. She had never discussed it, not even with her husband, leading them all to believe it would be an as-expected affair. Instead, they were stunned to learn that it was Cordelia, the youngest daughter, who was chosen as her mother's successor. Regardless of how much Goneril screamed, it was completely within Contessa's rights to name anyone she chose as her heir. One complication, however, remained: Cordelia Capulet was dead.

That evening, when the dust in the family crypt was still settling, Goneril and Regan cornered their father in the study. They expected to recruit him to their interpretation of the will, solidify Goneril's claim, and promptly push him into a state of retirement. To their dismay, Consort held a different and upsetting opinion.

"Mother must have another will," Regan insisted. "Cordelia was killed years ago. The will you found is not the right one."

"It is the one filed with the court, child. There are no other wills."

"That's immaterial," Goneril snapped. "Cordelia died before Mother. Whatever Mother's intentions were, they died with Cordelia. I am the eldest, and Mother's place falls to me."

"If that was what your mother wanted, an amendment would have been made. She chose to pass the family through Cordelia's hands. Cordelia's will passed everything to her children." Goneril began to shout but was silenced by one of her father's stony looks. "Juliette is the eldest daughter. By tradition, Juliette is your mother's successor."

"By that logic, I am the heiress!"

Consort had rarely been so aggravated in business as he was by his own daughters on the day of their mother's funeral. "Your mother chose Cordelia. Cordelia had children, meaning the eldest inherits any titles that might have been hers."

Regan huffed. "A fine piece of reasoning, Father. Yes, give the family to an ignorant little girl because Mother made a mistake in her paperwork! We all know what she would have wanted. Do you care about that at all? Or do you mean to take advantage and smash the traditions that Mother cherished and you've always despised? Why settle for Juliette when you could have Tybalt? After all he's the eldest of Cordelia's children and even more suitable for destroying us from the top down," she scoffed.

"What an excellent idea, daughter."

This blasphemy rendered Regan speechless, but Goneril, though aghast, was ever-capable of talking. "Have you lost your mind? Never mind the rest - Tybalt is a male. A man cannot, cannot, cannot be the head of the House of Capulet! My mother never wanted that. Not even my sister would have wanted that! You will not destroy this family, Father, I will not allow it! If you attempt to... I will drag you before the Council and-"

"And we shall end up before the Crown Court, Goneril, where I will put these biases on trial once and for all, and I will win."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Wouldn't I, daughter?" Consort had been one of the most active and independent husbands of a Capulet matriarch. He had cringed every time one of his daughters maligned a more patriarchal family for their poor treatment of women, incredulous that they could not see their personal hypocrisy. While he had come into his marriage with ideas about the sexes that clashed with even his own family's matriarchal tradition, he had come to see the wisdom in fairer treatment of both sexes. 

The wills of his wife and daughter were written just so that he could have made a serious attempt to bring a sea-change to the House of Capulet. He would not because it was not and would never have been Contessa's desire. She would not have supported such a drastic deviation from tradition, not without some equally radical movements toward equality in some of the patriarchal families, who comprised a considerable majority of the upper classes. The House of Capulet had been hers, and this would be her legacy. Consort would defend his wife in all matters, to the bitter end if need be - but Goneril didn't need to know that. "We are going to do something you have not done before, Goneril: compromise. Juliette is sixteen. She cannot inherit for five years, and we cannot leave the seat open for that long. You will assume the position in the interim."

"And later be brushed aside by a child? Absolutely not!"

"Compromise!" Consort barked. "You may have the seat in the interim. I will remain at the Manor with the children, so you may enjoy your new property." He smirked as Goneril sputtered; she had recently purchased and renovated a large home for her own household with the expectation that her mother would live for quite some time. "If Juliette and then Hermia do not want the position when they each are of age, you may claim the leadership of the family without challenge."

"But I still face a challenge from two girls for my rightful place! I do not see a compromise, Father."

"The compromise is that I will not humiliate you in public by promoting my grandson's interest. This tradition of matriarchy is just that - tradition. It is not a law, and it may not stand up to a legal challenge under these circumstances." He glared at her unflinchingly, daring her to blink.

"So, if Juliette challenges me, you will support her?"

"Yes. And Hermia afterwards, if Juliette declines."

"But you will not put Tybalt forward and turn this family into a laughing stock?"

Consort sighed at her short-sightedness. "I will do nothing of the sort, nothing of which your mother would not have approved."

Preserving the Capulet matriarchy - and other traditions - was of the utmost importance to Goneril and Regan. Although perhaps more zealously, they shared their Mother's resolve to preserve their ways in a culture that much more often preferred male heirs. Their line stretched back without blemish to the era of Veronese monarchs. It was a point of pride. The law could be skewed and stretched with the right approach, and the house law of noble families was not of equal weight. The Capulets were undoubtedly powerful enough to push the tide of law to their favor, but it would be degrading to discover in public whose push was strongest.

And of course, five years was plenty of time to prepare a vigorous defense of the title if claimed by either of Cordelia's daughters. Goneril agreed to the compromise. "But the girls must be suitable for the position when they are of age," Goneril replied through clenched teeth. "The Capulet name must be of the first importance."

"Do not presume to tell me how to raise my grandchildren." Consort waved his hand. He wanted the room to himself before his relief at their falling into his trap became obvious. "Now, go home to your children. This day has been too long."

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