Chapter Text
Two households, both alike in dumbassery,
In fair Verona, where we bear witness to this mess:
A bunch of rich people have turned their personal problems
Into a city-wide blood feud lasting nearly five decades.
Allow me, fair reader, to recount the story of two hopeless romantics,
The fuckboy Romeo Montecchi and naïve ingénue Giulietta Capelletti,
Who would have gotten a bunch of their friends plus their own foolish selves
Pointlessly killed in the span of 3 days
If not for the guidance of their older, wiser, and far more jaded cousins
Who know that love at first sight is a crock of shit
And put an end to their nonsense before it could begin.
Our story begins in 1301, although all this foolishness actually began 45 years ago in 1256 with the start of the feud between one of Verona’s oldest wealthy families, House Capelletti, and one of its newest, House Montecchi. Nobody remembers why the feud started, but that’s not important. What’s important is that it did, and that ever since then these two families have loathed each other. To date, 21 people have died as a result of their hatred, and countless more have been injured. The common folk of Verona have long since tired of this feud, but since most of them are poor nobody cares. Thankfully, Verona’s new prince Bartolomeo is tired, too, having grown up with this shit, and so now something might actually be done about it. Just a week after he was crowned, a large brawl broke out between the two households, and the prince swiftly issued an edict that any violence resulting from the feud will result in exile, while any murders will result in execution. One wonders if he knew how effective his edict would be, as barely a year later the feud has been brought to an end on this fateful morning, never mind the death that came last night. But more on that later.
Let’s go now to House Capelletti, where almost a year ago today the heir apparent Giulietta, only surviving child of Lord Silvestro and Lady Giulia, had just been summoned by her father. As she walked into his study, she found him poured over the desk, closely inspecting blueprints, sketches, and billing statements for the Basilica of Sant’Anastasia. Giulietta hovered in the doorway, a fond smile on her face as she waited for her father to notice her. Silvestro was murmuring to himself, tracing his fingers slowly over the papers, checking every detail in front of him. Soon, he sighed and sat back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his face, and when he looked up he finally noticed his daughter.
“Etta! There you are, I need to talk to you.” He waved her closer. He looked pleased. Etta strode forward and gracefully plopped herself into the chair opposite his. “You’re familiar with Prince Marsilio of Mantua?” Etta nodded, though really all she knew about that prince is that his name is Marsilio and he was from Mantua. “Well, he came to Verona to visit Prince Bartolomeo, and while he was here he wanted to tour the basilica – several of the painters are from Mantua, you know. He and I talked quite a bit while I was showing him around, and he mentioned that he is looking for a wife.”
Etta’s throat clenched, but she kept her face calm just as her mother had taught her. Ladylike and still.
“He knows of your beauty, of course, you look just like your mother, and he knows of our family’s strong standing here in Verona. We both agreed that a marriage between the two of you would greatly benefit both of our cities. He asked to formally meet you, and your mother and I accepted.”
Etta inhaled, swallowed, reminded herself that this day has always been coming. But, “Surely nothing will happen too.. quickly, will it?”
Her father smiled, laying a gentle hand over hers where they were clasped in her lap. “I’ve told Marsilio that I expect him to court you, to win your heart before you officially become betrothed. There’s no rush.”
Etta nodded, painting a smile on her face. “I understand. Thank you, Father.” She rose from the chair. “If that’s all, I want to go tell Rosalinda. And Livia.”
Silvestro stands as well. “Yes, I’m sure your cousins will be thrilled for you. Even though both of them still insist on heading to the nunnery. Perhaps your marrying a prince might inspire at least one of them to take a husband.” He waved her off, turning back to his papers, and with a small curtsey, Etta fled.
As quickly as she could while still being proper, she headed out of her father’s study, across the courtyard, up the stairs, and past the servants’ quarters to the small apartment her cousins had shared for the last four years since their father passed away and Lady Giulia insisted they move from the countryside into the main family estate. Barging through the door, Etta called out for her second-favorite cousin.
“Ros! Are you in here?” Ros was indeed in there, sitting cross-legged at the foot of her bed and working on some mending. Livia was there too, sitting by the window reading a book. Probably her bible since that’s all she ever talked about. Etta marched forward and threw herself onto Ros’s bed. “Father is making me get married.” Of course, with her face pressed into Ros’s faded red bedsheets, it came out too garbled to hear.
Ros poked her young cousin in the side. “Sit up and speak normally if you want me to listen to you.”
Etta pushed herself up on her elbows. “Father is making me get married.”
“Ah.” Ros sat aside her mending. From the corner, Etta hears Livia huff and turn a page. Ros turns to face Etta on the bed. “Wasn’t that always the plan, though?”
“Yes, but he’s making me marry the Prince of Mantua!”
“Oh, you poor thing.”
“Ros!” Etta swatted her cousin’s arm. “If he lives in Mantua, that means I’ll have to live in Mantua. I’ll hardly get to visit Verona. We’ll barely see each other anymore.”
Ros smiled with fond exasperation. “We’ll see each other plenty. And we can write when we can’t visit. Besides, I’m sure you’ll make plenty of friends in Mantua before long. How soon is the wedding?”
“Not sure.” Etta picked at the frayed fabric on the bed beneath her. “They haven’t actually agreed to anything yet. Father says Prince Marsilio is supposed to… to woo me first.”
“And you object to being wooed?” Ros ducked her head to catch Etta’s eye. “I thought you loved tales of courtship. Seeing your handsome suitor from across the room, striding towards each other to dance together, falling in love at first sight.”
“Yes, and you and Teo always mock me for it. But that’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
Etta started to speak but then hesitated. “I don’t know. I just… I guess I always thought that I’d get to choose. That I’d dance with a handsome stranger at one of my father’s parties, and we’d fall in love over the course of the evening and want to get married right away and he’d ask my father for my hand right there in front of everyone and…” She sighed. “This just isn’t what I dreamed of.”
Ros brushed Etta’s hair back from where it was hiding her face and gently cupped her cheek. “I know exactly what you mean. The nunnery is not my first choice, either. But the alternative is letting Aunt Giulia scrounge up some lesser lord’s half-brother’s second cousin in his late 50s who’s willing to marry the dowry-less daughter of a dead petty lord. If I’m going to marry any man, ever, it’s going to be one who won’t consummate the marriage,” she said with a wink. Livia groaned from her seat by the window, no doubt having heard this little joke before.
Etta pouted, not liking how sensible Ros was being. Maybe she should go talk to Teo.
As if sensing her thoughts, Ros asked, “What does Teobaldo think of all this? I suppose if it’s your father’s idea, then he’ll support it.”
“I don’t know if he knows yet, I only just found out and came straight here.”
“Shall we go tell him together? I think he’ll be less… loud if he hears it from you.”
Etta sat, unsure. Telling Teo would make it feel official. But Ros was right, Etta was just about the only person in the whole household whom Teo never yelled at, aside from her lady mother and Etta’s old nurse. And Teo’s been yelling and fighting even more than usual lately, meaning her father’s even more fed up with him than usual. Best if he hears it from her.
“Alright.”
Ros stood up, putting her mending away and grabbing her surcoat. “Livy, do you want to come with us?”
Livia didn’t look up from her book. “And go see Teobaldo? No, thank you, I don’t feel like being insulted today.”
“I don’t know why you both don’t get along better,” Ros said as she pinned her coif in place over her hair. “You’re the two most devout believers in this family.”
Livia scoffed. “The only thing Teobaldo believes in is his swinging his sword around whenever the mood suits him.” She then shot her sister a chastising glance when Ros let out a snorted laugh.
“Too true, I’m sure,” Ros said with a grin. “All of our cousins spend quite a bit of time at the brothels…” Livia interjected that “You know that’s not the type of sword I meant,” but Ros kept talking over her. “… Except, perhaps, Emiliana, but you never know. Either way, Jesus and I aren’t ones to judge.”
Etta hid her grin as she and Ros headed out, Ros fluttering a wave to her no doubt scowling sister. The two cousins then made their way back across the courtyard, which was slowly filling with servants prepping for the party tonight.
“I don’t think Teo is home. I saw him and Petro leaving this morning, probably running errands for Mother and Father.” Etta led them towards her bedroom to get her own coif and surcoat before heading out. “I’m sure they finished ages ago and are down by the river now goofing off until it’s time to come back.”
“Hm,” Ros chuckled, “Hard to imagine Teobaldo goofing off. Or Petro, really. They’re both so serious all the time.”
“They’re just serious around Father. Ten years they’ve lived here and they still feel the need to impress him.” They walked into Etta’s room and she began to gather her things.
“So, what,” asked Ros, “you’re saying that the rest of the time they’re lovable goof-balls? Regular jokesters?”
“Oh no, Teo’s still… Teo,” Etta says as she shrugged on her surcoat. “He just smiles more when Father’s not around, I suppose. And Petro always follows Teo’s lead.”
Ros stepped forward to help Etta pin her coif. “So Teobaldo smiles when he starts fights in the street. I can actually imagine that quite easily.”
Etta knocked her hand away. As the cousins grinned playfully at each other, Nurse Angelica suddenly came bursting into the room.
“There you are, little one! I just heard the news from your mother, how are you feeling, are you alright?” Angelica cupped Etta’s face in her hands, looking her up and down like Etta had just gotten beaten and not betrothed. “Oh, you are too young for this, I told my lady you’re too young! Not even in your 17th year.” Her hands dropped to Etta’s shoulders and gave them a slight shake. “I know you highbrow types like to make matches early, but it’s so much better for the girl if she waits, waits until she’s older, stronger,” her hands dropped to Etta’s hips, “wider!”
Etta shook her hands off, blushing. “Nurse! Please, it’s not as though we’re marrying today. My father says I can take as much time as I want.”
“Really? Oh good,” Nurse sighed, falling into a nearby chair. “That’s good, I was worried. When your mother told me the prince was coming to the party tonight I was so worried-”
“He’s coming tonight?” Etta looked at Ros. “Father didn’t mention that.”
Ros shrugged, “Maybe he didn’t want you to get nervous?”
“Oh, my angel,” Nurse reached her hands out, and Etta stepped forward to hold them. “I know you’ve always been keener on love than marriage, but I’d hate to have one without the other. Once makes you no better than a prostitute, and the other no happier than nun! Oh, no offense, dear,” she said with a glance at Ros. “And to hear your mother say it, this prince is beautiful, more so than any suitable man in Verona! Surely you’ll find love with a man like that. My husband, he’s no beauty, and I can tell you we have to work at loving each other sometimes, but-”
“Thank you, Nurse.” Etta blurted out. She gave her hands a squeeze before pulling away. “I’m sure the prince is lovely. I’m sure I’ll enjoy dancing with him tonight. I don’t know if I’ll fall in love with him tonight, but I’ll dance with him just the same.”
“That’s good, dear, that’s good. You’re a lovely dancer, just lovely.” Nurse made no move to stand, so Ros and Etta left her to herself and headed out back through the courtyard and onto the street.
The two girls walked in silence for a few minutes until they could no longer see the Capelletti estate looming behind them. Etta leaned over to cling to Ros’ arm. “Don’t leave me alone at the party tonight. I don’t know how much courting I’ll be able to endure.”
Ros linked their hands together. “I’ll stay close. Though I doubt you’ll need to worry about being alone with the prince – Teobaldo will be watching you both like a hawk all night, I’m sure.”
Etta hummed in agreement. “I hope he doesn’t make too much of a scene. Father’s already upset with him for the brawl in the piazza last week.”
“Didn’t some servants start that one?”
“Yes, but Teo jumped right in and made it worse, and then the new prince was so upset and made all those new rules. Father says he wishes that for once Teo would end a fight instead of starting it.”
“I’m sure from his perspective he was ending it. I have to admit he’s quite the swordsman. Also a bit of a madman, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Before long the two reached the bank of the River Adige that cuts a winding path through our fair city of Verona. There in the shade of the trees were Etta’s favorite cousin, Teo, and his brother Petruchio, dancing along the river’s edge in a way that would seem playful only to a Capelletti, given that both brothers had their swords drawn.
Etta and Ros approached slowly, watching the duel. Teo struck low, and Petro leaped back. Teo struck high and Petro parried. Teo lunged forward, then swung low again at the last moment, swatting at Petro’s ankle with the broad side of his blade and causing him to slip and fall into the dirt. Teo grinned fiercely, and then his smile softened as he crouched down next to his sprawled out little brother. “Not as bad as last time, but your footwork is still too heavy.”
“It’s not heavy, you’re just tricky.” Petro pushed himself up to sit and caught sight of Etta and Ros. His brow furrowed. “What are you two doing here?”
“Watching the show, of course!” Called Ros, stepping off the edge of the cobblestone street onto the soft soil along the river’s edge. “Does your brother knock you on your backside often, or is this a special occasion?” She then caught sight of Teo’s dog Rubino laying in a sunny grass patch and walked over to pet him.
Petro scowled as Teo pulled him to standing, though it wasn’t mean-spirited. “I’ll have you know it’s getting less common, thank you.”
Teo sheathed his sword as he looked past Ros to where Etta was standing. “Is something wrong? Did your father send for us?”
“No. I mean yes, something is wrong – not really wrong, exactly,” She put a hand forward to halt Teo from striding forward, a suspicious look on his face. “I just got some… unexciting news.”
Teo set his hands on his hips and raised a brow expectantly.
Etta swallowed, huffed, then said, “Father’s chosen a possible husband for me. It’s Prince Marsilio of Mantua. He’s a cousin of Prince Bartolomeo.”
Nobody said anything for a minute. Petro and Ros were both looking at Teo, awaiting his reaction, while Etta looked at her feet.
Teo finally spoke. “When?”
“When did he decide? When did he tell me? When’s the wedding?” Etta folded her arms across her chest. “He decided yesterday, he told me this morning, and the wedding is apparently whenever I want, though I don’t suppose ‘never’ is an option.”
Teo looked off to the side, considering. “If you marry the Prince of Mantua, you would live in Mantua, would you not?”
Etta clicked her tongue. “I would assume so, yes.”
Teo nodded. “Good.”
Three faces looked at him in surprise.
“Good?” Etta stepped forward. “What, do you want me to leave? You want me to be alone in a strange city, without you? I thought you’d be more… concerned.”
“Of course I’m concerned.” Teo’s hands clenched, one finger tapping on the hilt of his sword. “You know I want you to be safe. Your father expects me to protect you. If you’re in Mantua, you’re in no danger of being hurt in the vendetta.”
“It’s not like she’s in danger here, though, is she?” said Petro, coming forward to stand beside Teo and Etta. “To kill a woman, even in blood feud. That just isn’t-”
“Tell that to the Montecchis. Remember what they did to Cousin Salvio’s wife.”
“I thought that was an accident,” said Ros, giving Rubino one last pat before coming over.
Teo rolled his eyes. “She walked into an ambush. Just because it was meant for her husband doesn’t make her any less dead.” He turned his focus back to Etta. “A prince can protect you better than even I can. And getting out of the city will keep you out of harm’s way. Plus, I’m sure my lord is thrilled that he can finally finish his precious basilica once he has a prince for a son-in-law.”
Etta scowled. “Father’s not just going to sell me off to the highest bidder. He promised to choose a husband that is handsome and gallant who will love and honor me as I deserve.”
Teo smiled. “Sure.”
“Ugh! How did I get such jaded souls for my closest companions? You and Ros both, you have no faith in romance. What about you, Petro, I suppose you think marriage and love are mutually exclusive, as well?”
“I think that marriage is a business transaction, and romanticizing it puts unfair expectations on those involved. I do believe in love, but I think there are types of love more important that the kind that leads to… children. And if any of the priests in this city actually read their precious bible-”
His brother and cousins all waved him off. “Enough, don’t start that again,” said Ros. “There’s plenty of time for this later. Right now, I think we should discuss what to do at the party tonight. Etta’ intended is going to be in attendance.”
Teo looked at Etta. “What do you want to do?”
Etta shrugged. “I don’t know. I want to enjoy the party, of course. And I know I need to meet Marsilio, and dance with him, too. But I don’t want to be left alone with him. I asked Ros to stay close. Can you both-”
“Of course, we’ll keep an eye on him,” said Teo. “I’m sure he won’t do anything untoward, though. He probably… prob…” As he was speaking, Rubino had stood up and started whining, staring at his master. Teo’s words trailed off, his body suddenly tensing before he began tipping over, and his brother rushed forward to catch him before he could hit the ground.
“Shit!” Petro caught Teo mid-fall, stumbling under his weight as he looked around. “There’s no privacy here, dammit.” Ros stood by, unsure what to do as Etta hurried over.
“Quickly, behind those trees, that should be enough coverage.” She and Petro both grabbed Teo under the shoulders and dragged him over to the small copse of trees that stood between the river and the street. Rubino and Ros followed, and they laid Teo out just before the shaking started. Petro and Etta stayed crouched next to him, but Ros stood back, a hand to her mouth and her other arm hugging her stomach. Etta caught her eye. “It’ll be alright, it only lasts a minute. He’ll be fine soon, I promise.”
Ros nodded, looking back towards the road to see if anyone was coming their way, but the street was mercifully empty of midday traffic. Teo’s body was so tight that everything was trembling, and the jerking movements of his shoulders and head were getting more pronounced, his fingers clenching and flaring, his feet kicking. After what felt like way too long, with one final trash where his back bowed fully off the ground, the fit passed. Teo lay still, almost as if dead. Etta and Petro hovered beside him, and once they were sure it was over Petro pulled out his handkerchief to wipe the spit from his brother’s face while Etta stood up and shook the dirt from her skirts. She looked back at Ros, who was still standing, jaw and hands clenched tight.
Etta reached out to rub her arm. “Are you alright?”
Ros nodded, flexing her fingers and forcing herself to relax. “I knew about the fits, Aunt Giulia warned me, I just… I’ve never seen one before. It looked so painful, Emiliana’s are never that bad.”
“Yeah, hers is different. And this one was actually rather mild,” said Petro. “Often he vomits right afterward.”
Etta shot him a look over her shoulder to convey that he was not helping, but of course he wasn’t looking at her, still watching Teo closely to see if he was coming around yet. Etta sighed, and the smiled gently at Ros. “I hope he remembers what we just talked about. I’d hate to have to tell him all over again.” Ros gave a shaky smile in return. Etta continued, still rubbing Ros’ arm, “You know, the first time I saw this it was during one of our sparring lessons. I had finally managed to land a strike on him, and the next thing I know he’s on the ground. I thought I’d broken him somehow until Mother explained, though she was more concerned to learn that he had been teaching me to swordfight.” She chuckled, “And then of course he couldn’t remember anything and insisted I made up having won.”
From the ground, Teo moaned softly. Etta turned and dropped back down beside him.
“Teo? It’s Etta. You had a fit. Can you speak?” She spoke softly, laying a hand on his shoulder.
Teo grumbled something unintelligible. He looked annoyed, though, which Etta took as a good sign. Petro gently lifted Teo’s head and then helped him to sit up.
Teo licked at his lips, breathing deeply as he became aware of his surroundings. “Are,” he stopped to clear his throat. “Are we outside?”
“Yes, we’re still by the river. Do you remember what we were talking about?”
Teo’s brow furrowed in concentration. Then he sighed, rolling his neck and his eyes in quick succession. “You’re getting married to the prince of Padua.”
“Mantua” Etta corrected. “Though I’m not sure it makes a difference. And nothing’s final yet.”
“Hn.” Teo pushed himself up, then promptly fell back down when his shaky arms gave out. He scoffed, disgusted, but was eager enough to get off the ground that he didn’t push Petro and Etta away when they reached to help him. Both of them were on the slight side, and it took their combined strength to get the larger Capelletti back to his feet. He swayed ever so slightly for a moment before steeling himself. Rubino came forward and sniffed at his hands, and Teo stroked his ears.
“So.” He looked down at Etta. “When’s the wedding?”
“Tonight. No, sorry!” Teo looked ready to head back to the ground for a moment. “Not the wedding, just the party. I’m formally meeting him at Father’s party tonight.”
Teo nodded, his face serious. “Alright. I suppose you want us to stay close, keep an eye on him?”
Etta smiled. “I would appreciate that, yes.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He looked around before turning to Petro. “Did anybody- Were there any people when…”
Petro shook his head. “Nobody saw. We were hidden behind the trees.”
Teo sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. Never all of the tension, though, probably not even in his sleep. “Good. Let’s get out of here, then.”
The four cousins proceeded to slowly make their way back home, Rubino leading the way and Etta holding on to Teo’s arm as though he was the one helping her to stay standing.