Verona

Chapter 1

            “Rosaline Capulet, you will remove yourself from that room this instant, and meet the suitor waiting for you outside or so help me—” came the insistent whisper at my door.

            “No, Mother, I will not leave this room. I do not wish to meet any suitors. Tell them I have decided to go live in a nunnery,” I replied calmly, not bothering to whisper. My mother quickly prompted me to lower my voice, causing me to sigh. Who was going to hear my calm and patient comments through the stone walls surrounding us?

            “Rosaline, Paris is not going to accept that excuse, and he is never going to stop trying for your hand in marriage,” she continued to whisper.

            “Well then, if I feel like getting married tomorrow, or next week, or next year maybe, then I will know who to write to,” I replied, sarcastically.

            “Listen, Rosaline. This is a one-time offer, and if you refuse Paris is never coming back,” she nearly screamed through the doors. I heard her breathe in deeply, as she tried to calm herself down.

            “Wait, which is it? He will not stop pursuing me or this is my last chance to get his hand in marriage?” I asked, honestly curious. Apparently that was not what my mother wanted to hear.

            “Rosaline, I swear. If your father was still alive…” I listened to her footsteps fade away down the hall. Sighing, I pushed myself off my bed, and moved to the balcony outside my window. Leaning on the edge of the balcony’s ledge, I sighed into the midafternoon sun.

            A hill rose up behind my mother’s house. I apologize, my uncle’s house, which he had so graciously allowed me and my mother to occupy, while living behind the hill on his family property. When my father had died, he had actually tried to leave his house to my mother and me, but the ridiculous patriarchal society of Verona, Italy, had refused to acknowledge his will as legal, and everything had been handed over to the family patriarch, Uncle Capulet. I hadn’t known my father—I had been only three when he had died—but that simple action had led me to believe that I would have liked my father.

            I regretted not knowing my father, but I had to admit that growing up without a father had its assets. My cousin, Juliet, had lived her entire life under the scrutiny of my uncle, and, as a result, had never had the freedom I had known in mine. Now, I did love Uncle Capulet. Despite his prejudice against women, he had taken excellent care of me and my mother in the thirteen years since my father had died. But Juliet had been confined to her house all thirteen years of her life. She had been taught by governesses, and pampered by Nurse since birth, but the only places she had seen outside her own walls were the church, and Nurse’s house. Mother had been much more lenient with me. I was allowed to go anywhere I pleased, as long as I was wearing servant’s clothing and remained unrecognized by anyone in our class of society. My mother cared about her social life, but she was happy to give me my secret one, as long as my secret lifestyle never interfered with our high class one.

            The problem now was that my freedom was interfering with our life. I simply refused to be given away like a piece of property to the highest bidder, and I was not willing to relinquish the freedom I had learned to handle over the past ten years. Paris was a kind man, but he was every bit as controlling as Uncle Capulet, and I would not submit to a life of following my husband around like a well-trained dog. I wanted love, romance, and adventure in my life, not obedience. My years of fraternizing with my friends in the lower classes had shown me that these things did exist, and more than anything I wanted them.

            "I do not know what I want, but I know it is not Paris," I told the hill in front of me.

            "I could not agree more!"