CHAPTER 3: TWO VOICES IN THE NIGHT
1192 Words
A murmur swept through the chamber. Thirty days in Therona might as well have been thirty years.
Dario Mondragon laughed under his breath. “Impossible.”
Juliet’s uncle echoed him from the opposite side. “Unenforceable.”
Romeo’s voice cut through the noise. “I will agree.”
Every head turned to him.
Dario Mondragon stared at him. “You cannot speak for the north alone.”
“I can speak as its heir,” Romeo said evenly. “And I say we try.”
Juliet felt something tighten in her heart. She stepped forward. “The south will not appear weak by accepting mercy.”
“This is not mercy,” Romeo said. “It is restraint.”
She studied him carefully now. Not the dragon from the book stories. Not the monster she had been warned about. But a man, a handsome one with an intense charm in her eyes, but visibly struggling against the weight of his own name.
After a moment, Juliet nodded. “The Calluetes will honor the ceasefire.”
The room erupted with voices.
“You are a fool,” Dario Mondragon hissed.
“You gamble our honor,” Juliet’s uncle snapped.
The Prince struck the table with his staff. “It is decided.”
Silence fell again, but for all of them, the silence is heavy like a stone and unsettled.
Romeo exhaled slowly, then met Juliet’s eyes once more. “Thirty days,” he said quietly. “Let us see if Therona can survive then.”
Juliet’s reply was softer, meant only for him. “Or if it destroys us for trying.”
Night settled quickly after the council's meeting ended.
The rain finally arrived, slicking the streets and washing away bloodstains from the stone, though it couldn’t erase the memories. Torches flickered along the bridges as the guards increased their vigilance, unsure if the ceasefire would last even until this morning.
Romeo walked alone along the river’s edge, cloak pulled tight against the cold.
The city felt different now tenser, as if aware that something fragile had been placed in its hands.
“Do you often wander without guards?” a voice asked from the shadows.
Romeo turned around, heart catching at the sound.
Juliet emerged from the darkness, the torchlight catching her like a living flame. Her red hood was drawn back, revealing her long curls of black hair, damp from the rain but gleaming like polished obsidian. Each strand framed her face, highlighting the delicate curve of her cheekbones and the softness of her skin.
Romeo’s gaze froze.
Her eyes... shimmered with a light that made the raging storm around them feel utterly trivial. They were a deep, luminous shade, seeming to look right through him, and awakening the feelings he thought he had buried long ago.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he managed, his voice quieter than he intended.
“Neither should you,” she replied, her voice carrying the same quiet strength that had always drawn him in. “Yet here we are.”
They stood across the rain-slicked river, the water murmuring between them, but all Romeo could see was her, her beauty, her gaze, her presence that left him breathless.
“You surprised them,” Juliet said. “Agreeing so quickly.”
“I surprised myself,” Romeo admitted. “But I meant it.”
She folded her arms, studying him. “Why?”
“Because I’m tired of inheriting hatred,” he said simply. “And because today, for the first time, my enemy spoke with honesty.”
Juliet’s breath caught, just slightly. “Honesty can be dangerous. "So can silence.”
The rain intensified, drumming against stone. For a moment, neither both of them spoke.
“Thirty days,” Juliet said at last. “The city will test us.”
Romeo nodded. “It always does.”
She took a step back, pulling her hood up again. “Be careful, Mr. Romeo Mondragon. Therona punishes those who hesitate.”
Romeo watched her retreat into the darkness. “And it destroys those who rush blindly.”
Juliet paused, glancing over her shoulder. “Then perhaps,” she said quietly, “we are already doomed.”
Then she disappeared into the rain.
Romeo remained by the river long after she was gone, listening to the water, the city, and the distant thunder.
The ceasefire had begun.
After two hours, the rain stopped. And the moon hung low over to the city of Therona. It circled in silver and pale, spilling across the northern rooftops and catching in the iron spikes of the Mondragon estate.
The city slept uneasily, its breath shallow, yet Romeo Mondragon could not rest. Sleep had abandoned him hours ago, leaving only the ceaseless churn of thought, it is the memory of Juliet’s eyes, and the impossible hope that perhaps, for a single night, the feud could be set aside.
He paced back and forth on the balcony, his cloak gently brushing against the stone railing while his boots made a soft scraping sound on the chilly marble. Below of him, is where the streets lay deserted, shadows stretching long and dark across the cobblestones. Even the guards, could feel the turmoil in his restless mind and soul.
Footsteps of strangers, whispers of servants, and the distant call of river water against the bridge, all of it came to him amplified, every sound a reminder of the city’s quiet menace.
Therona demanded attention, even at night. Every corner had memory, every alley held the potential for violence. And yet, for the first time, Romeo felt the city differently.... not as a place to dominate, but as a living, breathing reminder of what he wanted to protect.
“Still awake?” a voice said softly behind him.
Romeo spun, hand reaching for the hilt of his sword almost instinctively. But the voice was familiar. Familiar and impossible for him to ignore.
“Juliet?” he asked in disbelief, and relief tangled together.
She had come alone, through the ground of the streets that soaked by the rain. Extremely, she past the guards, the watchful eyes to stand in the shadow of the Mondragon estate.
“Yes,” she said simply. Her red hood was drawn back, revealing her dark hair dampened by moonlight and rain.
“I couldn’t sleep either.” she whispered.
Romeo hesitated. The rational side of him, shaped by years of family feuds and deep-rooted traditions, was practically shouting for answers about why she had put herself in danger. But then there was that softer, more impulsive voice, one he had come to recognize as his own... that urged him to just listen.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said finally, stepping closer. “This is dangerous. You know what the north will say.”
“And the south?” she replied, her voice steady. “Do you think they would approve?”
He laughed softly, a humorless sound. “Neither side would forgive me for talking to you alone.”
Juliet’s eyes flicked toward the balcony’s edge, then back at him. “Then let us be forgiven later.”
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