Fair Sun

Author's note: The images in this chapter are not necessarily literal illustrations of the text.

"A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee." 

October 1st

Verona had extinguished the last embers of summer. Each day, sun and warmth grew more scarce. Frost would soon blanket the northernmost regions. It would not take long for the cold air and cool light to sweep south and stake winter's claim. Paulina and Mercutio, however, were still living in the warmth of summer. A skeptic could have pointed to the cozy chamber and overlarge fireplace with which they were spending this night, just as they had for most of their short marriage. The poet would have looked to the couple. And, as it so happened, they were very fond of poetry.

They were also very fond of the freedom marriage had provided. Moving away from his uncle had allowed Mercutio to relax into his natural personality more. By rooting out what he could not change by any amount of anticipation, he was learning to balance watchfulness with pleasure again. Paulina was also discovering enjoyment - and autonomy, as well. She had lived her last eight years, years in which Nature granted nearly everyone a thirst for liberty, as a dependent. The past five months had awakened that dormant thirst. She still felt like herself - but a better, happier self. Tonight, she would eagerly share her bed with her husband, and tomorrow she would feel under-dressed without a caul. She was home.

The pleasure of a lavender scent touched Mercutio as he stretched across his wife. Just beyond, on the nightstand, was an open book of ancient Imperial poetry. When their romance inspired a physical reaction, the verses had been cast aside. Mercutio leaned far to pick up where they had left off. "I conjure thee by my love's bright eyes, by her high forehead," he half whispered, grazing each part named, "and her soft lip." Here he had to abandon the book and retreat to her hips. "By her fine foot, straight leg..." His hand lingered on her calf; his lips ventured to take up their cause. "And quivering thigh, and the demesnes that there adjacent..."

At the brink of success, Paulina hooked him under the chin with two fingers. She met his exaggerated pouting with a smirk. "If you've only come to me to conjure another, let it be one who will care to satisfy my quivers."

"Your every quiver is my command." He rolled off of her and slid up the bed to lay his head next to hers. "Far be it from me to leave to another the barest scrap of my duty when a goddess demands worship."

"Merc..."

Her flushed cheeks inspired a laugh. "God is all-knowing, so He knows what you are. It cannot be blasphemy to speak the truth, and may He smite me now if you weren't formed to be a goddess to me and the other foolish mortals."

No bolt of judgment cracked through the Heavens, but a distant rumble of thunder signaled Paulina's turn to laugh. "You are on notice to tread lightly!"

"Am I? Would the two of you prefer I be some pious oaf? Then so be it!" He rolled once again, this time smothering Paulina with the dead weight of his body. Unaware he often gave such a performance in his sleep, he made a great show of snoring like a beast. "Forgive me, Almighty God," he beseeched between snorts, "for appreciating my lady wife, whose heart and form are of equal beauty. I vow I shall henceforth find her distasteful and reluctantly perform my loathsome marital duties - but only on days when I feel a son brewing!"

Too late, I hope. It was only a possibility and therefore too early to mention anything to Mercutio, but Paulina already derived great pleasure from imagining that conversation. She imagined him caught between ecstasy and a bit of jealousy. She would tease him mercilessly for it but only for a little while. Children would be a blessing; Mercutio already was one.

"Do you suppose," he jested, quite a while after he had relieved her of his heft and settled in beside her, "that my fish-brained brother spares a thought for times like this when he pines for Lady Cherry?"

"I doubt he imagines her beating him with The Complete Verses of Abrien the Suitor so she can have some peace and quiet." Although not an intimate friend, Paulina thought she understood Cherry Albion well enough to know Romeo's affections, if they didn't wane like the others, were doomed. "Do you suppose it would do any good if you warned him he was wasting his time?"

"Wasting time on ladies is Rom's specialty," Mercutio scoffed. He still hoped his brother's taste would improve with age, that he would find his heart's satisfaction in someone attainable. "I sincerely doubt he would find his great loves so appealing if he wasn't controlling both sides of the romance with his imagination."

"And that's all he'll ever have in that quarter. Lord Albion wouldn't force his daughter's hand, and the only romance on Lady Cherry's mind is her sister's."

"That man might as well bow to his fate, then, whoever he might be."

"Lord Anjou's eldest son, John."

"Adrian's brother-in-law?" Mercutio knew his friend's wife a little, but he didn't know her family.

She nodded. "And very likely a cousin of some sort to Lord Henry. His mother was an Anjou."

"Of course he is," he laughed. Although she claimed to have little interest in politics, she had done what Antonio was too stupid to do: attach Henry Nowell to Beatrice. Paulina had turned their cousin's conveniently injured ankle into numerous excuses for Henry and Beatrice to meet. Even after Beatrice had returned home, Paulina had continued. She had even contrived to bring Beatrice into the path of Lady Fitzwilliam, whose influence on Lord Nowell made her good opinion invaluable. "I'm almost shocked Bea doesn't hate you, you know, for all the thinking you've done on Henry Nowell."

Paulina lightly slapped his shoulder. "Shush. Although, since you brought it up..."

"No."

"Yes! Do you know if Lord Arlecchino is still angry with your uncle?" Although she remained grateful to her cousins for bringing her to the capital, Paulina was not a frequent visitor to their house.

"To the point where I don't know which way Antonio will lean." Seeing the usual, and frankly logical, protests - 'governor's son', 'mutual affection' - in her eyes, Mercutio added, "My aunt was an Arlecchino, and Antonio needs that alliance badly enough that rebuffing the Senior Governor's son is conceivable." Mercutio couldn't help but wish there was some way to give Beatrice what she wanted and earn some political currency at the same time. There was no forthright way he could see; he only hoped, if Beatrice became a Nowell, she would remember Paulina's assistance. "Aunt Bianca might be able to make the choice and convince Antonio it was his own idea."

"I don't believe Bea fully trusts your aunt right now. She says Bianca has been behaving... well, erratic would be a kinder description. Apparently, she is sometimes of one mind at noon and the opposite by evening."

"That sounds more like my cousin than my aunt." He loved Beatrice and thought her a much more promising person than her twin, but establishing a relationship was trying. There was something good and real and constant in her, but it took a better person to reach through the changeable facade and find it. Paulina was such a person, and Henry Nowell seemed to be one as well. Benvolio was not, and neither was Mercutio, if the majority of his attempts were to be believed.

"Be kind," she chided. "She's still so young, and she feels quite alone in the world. Who wouldn't be a bit... tempestuous? Particularly if it is a family..." Paulina thoughts drifted off into a spark of inspiration. It was a scheme to be sure, perhaps a wicked scheme, but it might do everyone a great deal of good. "On second thought," she began with a smirk, "perhaps I should speak to my cousin. I do owe him some loyalty for taking me into his home. It would be a shame if I didn't warn him of my opinion of Bea."

Mercutio snickered and stole a deep kiss while his wife's clever words still lingered on her lips. "Ill-tempered, poorly-governed Beatrice, successor to her aunt's failings? A beauty better suited to running a second son's household than the vital duties of a future Lady Arlecchino? Your cousin's own poor niece, too dear to his heart to burden so?"

"Just so! Provided she approves of the plan," she continued. "I couldn't slander her so without her leave."

"She hurled herself down our stairs rather than be betrothed to Benvolio, love." He yawned. "I doubt she'll mind."

Beatrice, Anjous, Arlecchinos, and Nowells were forgotten when a lick of firelight illuminated Mercutio's hair. Paulina knew why men admired ladies' hair the first time she saw her husband's come loose. He had beautiful hair, soft and abundant and dark as the night sky. She had convinced him to let her wash it many times already, and that was almost as pleasurable as when it slid across her bare skin like silk while they made love.

Brushing the glinting strands with her back of her fingers, she hoped there was a baby with its fathers hair in her belly. She hoped it would have his wit and honor, and she prayed it would have courage from them both. Such a fortunate baby would grow up to be unafraid to love their spouse with all their heart, unafraid to share the whole of their affection. Five months of finally knowing happiness in her husband's arms had made it so Paulina could never wish for anything less for her children. If they knew the joy of the embraces from which they flowed, their lives would always be full.

Next Post: "Men at some time are masters of their fates."