“So do I,” Benvolio echoed.
“Well, if you don’t come along, I will go to Capulet Castle all by myself,” Romeo said with confidence.
Benvolio and Mercutio traded an uncomfortable glance while Romeo waited for their response. Benvolio nodded, and Mercutio took a hefty wooden stake from the top of the pile, offering it to Romeo as though it were a family heirloom.
“We must shave a few of these down so they will fit underneath our coats,” Mercutio said.
“And we will ask Friar Laurence for garlic and enough holy water to fill our ankle flasks,” said Benvolio.
Romeo grinned as he shook their hands one at a time. “I suppose we must prepare for the worst.”
“And for your innocence to be lost,” Mercutio said with a wink.
From behind a tall limestone pillar near the top of a winding staircase, Juliet watched the festive scene unfold in the castle’s Great Hall. Her eyes bounced around the candlelit room with great interest and curiosity, settling upon striking women in glittering, beaded ball gowns and stoic gentlemen dressed in long formal jackets, stitched with shimmering gold thread.
She was amazed by the civility of it all. Humans and Capulets, gallivanting together as if there hadn’t been more than five years of bloodshed between them. It truly boggled the mind, but not enough to dampen the cheery mood of Transylvania’s most elite humans, who obviously were curious about the country’s most notorious vampires.
A choral trio was assembled in between two towering marble columns, singing “Ave Regina” by Guillaume Dufay. The angelic sound of their high-pitched voices competed with the din of chatter in the air. Juliet had no need to wonder about the subject matter of people’s conversations—the peace treaty that was threatening the tight choke hold the Capulets had over the region. Soon Prince Radu would arrive at the castle as the guest of honour and be welcomed by the most prestigious clan of vampires in all of Europe.
Juliet took a deep breath and felt her whalebone corset tightening against her rib cage. She knew she should be relieved by the prince’s presence this evening. Originally, this ball was scheduled to take place three days from now in celebration of Juliet’s sixteenth birthday, but plans had changed once Vladimir was imprisoned. The Capulets altered the theme of the dance and invited Prince Radu, hoping that they could prove they were worthy of the power his half-brother had bestowed upon them, and persuade the prince to lift the treaty so their freedom to feed off humans would no longer be compromised.
Juliet’s extended family was so distracted by the political upheaval that they had seemed to forget all about her and her coming-of-age ritual. Juliet wished to put it out of her mind as well, at least for this evening. But when she felt a familiar warm, strong hand with long, sharp fingernails rest upon her shoulder, there was nowhere safe for her mind to go.
“Where have you been hiding, Juliet?” a deep, raspy voice asked.
She turned her head, and out from the shadows came the distinguished and handsome face of her father, Lord Capulet. She stood there frozen for a moment as she took in his mesmerising features—a sharp square-set jaw, a well-kept beard, and dark red eyes that could burn holes right through her if she ever dared to disobey him. Juliet swallowed hard as she imagined her father as a young man on his sixteenth birthday, snapping the neck of an innocent human, then biting down into his flesh and sucking every ounce of blood from his veins.
“I’m not hiding,” Juliet replied meekly. “I just needed to be alone with my thoughts for a moment.”
Three young women, all around Juliet’s age, passed by, giggling like they did not have a care in the world. Juliet watched as her father’s red eyes tracked the girls. Lord Capulet’s mouth broke into a wide grin, causing Juliet to shudder. She couldn’t help but picture all the naive human women he must have lured into his lair with his charming smile and then “turned” into vampires with a swift, deep bite to their necks and a few drops of his blood.
The physical rush from turning humans into vampires was as strong as a dose of opium. The practice had run rampant in the vampire world for years, but it became less popular when their numbers grew and grew and there was not enough food to go around. Now with the peace treaty in effect, turning was also illegal, and those who continued to perform the act did so in absolute secrecy.
“You haven’t been down to the ball yet,” Lord Capulet said. “Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”
“I’d rather not.” Juliet knew confiding in her father was not a good idea. Sometimes his temper ran even hotter than Lady Capulet’s.
“Your mother mentioned something. That you’d rather abstain from the initiation and die than become what you were meant to be.” Lord Capulet stepped away from Juliet, his cape whipping behind him, and peered out over the top of the staircase as though he were a monarch looking down on his kingdom. “I didn’t pay it any mind, given how hysterical women tend to be.”
Juliet felt prickles of heat wash over her neck like a rash. Thankfully, it wasn’t visible, because of the high collar of the emerald green gown her nurse had picked out for her this evening.
“Hysteria is the invention of men who aren’t able to control their spouses and daughters. Frankly, I believe I’m the only one in this family with the slightest sense of what is right and wrong,” she said tightly.
“Loyalty comes above all else, Juliet, even your sense of morality, however misguided it may be.” Lord Capulet kept his gaze trained on the merriment of the crowd downstairs; he was visibly unaffected by what Juliet had said to him.
A fit of anger bubbled up inside her chest, which she was barely able to contain.
“Don’t you mean duty, my lord?” Juliet’s tone was even more pointed now. “With loyalty, a person has a choice of whether or not to stand by someone. For instance, by asking Radu here, you are choosing to betray your loyalty to Vladimir, are you not?”
Juliet was sure that her accusation would tweak her father’s ego. The large bell in the north tower rang out five times, signalling that Prince Radu’s horse and carriage had made it through the castle’s main doors.
Lord Capulet bared his sharp fangs. Juliet moved backwards, her hands trembling. She’d seen this menacing side of him many times before, and each instance was just as terrifying as the last.
Lord Capulet bolted towards Juliet, grabbing her by both arms, his nails leaving indentations near her elbows. “This wilfulness of yours stops now. Do you understand me?”
Juliet’s breath was coming in large gasps. By the possessed look in Lord Capulet’s red eyes, she realised she’d upset him much more than she had intended. Juliet couldn’t bring herself to speak, so she only nodded.
“You will help me and your mother show the prince that we are deserving of this castle and our riches and our right to survive! Or you will pay such a dear price that starvation and death will seem like a sweet reward to you.”
Juliet could no longer look into Lord Capulet’s rage-filled eyes. She bowed her head in submission and said, “Yes, Father.”
A flood of applause carried throughout the rafters of the Great Hall. A booming voice called out, “Prince Radu of Wallachia and his sergeant at arms, Sir Felix.” Lord Capulet let go of Juliet and inhaled deeply, putting one of his hands on his chest. His shoulders relaxed and the expression on his face went from agitated to serene.
Lord Capulet held out a hand and smiled once again. His fangs had receded, but still she was hesitant to go near him.
“Come,