The Frowning Night

"The bow is bent and drawn."

Content Warnings: Click here for warnings (Possible spoilers)

July 27th

As midnight approached, the wind rattled the ornate glass windows in Goneril's study. While beautiful, the decorative glass had strategic value. An onlooker from the garden could have seen the glow of the fire in the room but not the faces of the two sisters staring into it. Nearest the window sat the lady of the house, dressed in rich reds and the silver ornament that kept her thin hair tightly pulled. She had no pretensions to beauty; she knew her sisters, her mother, and her daughters all were her superior in that regard. Finery, like the glass, was strategic - the mark of an important lady. It was also her due as firstborn and heiress of Contessa Capulet, Lady Capulet and Governor of Verona. Goneril always demanded her due.

What is Your Will?

"Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt."

July 1st

July had dawned warm and sunny in Verona. Even Montague Court was brighter and lighter in the glow of summer, when the scent of flowers wafted through every wood-latticed window. Still, Beatrice had been glad to wake up to a day when she had somewhere else to be. Her joy had only increased to hear that her father was 'indisposed' and would be staying at home with her grandmother and her grandmother's ladies-in-waiting. Paulina and Mercutio's party would be so much more pleasant without the chill between the Montague men spoiling the summer warmth.

But, once she arrived with her aunt and brother, Beatrice felt a touch overwhelmed by the crowd on the terrace. She wandered out onto the grass and advantageously positioned herself beside a lush, green fruit tree. From here, she could watch everyone and, she hoped, notice when the person she most wanted to see arrived.