#romeo

The neighbours, if anyone asks them (which rarely anyone does), could tell you quite a few stories. They would tell you that the curtains, of rich green fabrics embroidered with gold, have never been opened. They would tell you that fashionable young girls go in and out late at night, giggling when they go in and in a euphoric daze when they come out at dawn, eyes on the pink sky glittering with awe. They would also tell you about the lady of the house, and each one will tell you a different story about her, but here are what they all agree on:

She is called Romeo, only Romeo. She has a pretty, but unexceptional face with rosy cheeks and deep brown eyes and hair. She has an air of melancholy about her. She always wears green, the same rich color as the curtains of the house. And she certainly does not belong here.

Now, none of them can agree on why she doesn't belong here. If the stories are all true she must have lived a thousand lives: She is an evil spirit from the woods, lived as the mistress of a witch, killed her spouse with poison, was a spy against this Isle, has sold her soul to the mirrorfolk.

Of course, none of these stories are true. Here is the story of Romeo:

Once upon a time, there was a young woman, born to a merchant. She was, through her mother, very rich. But there was not much else about her that let a potential suitor look twice: She was neither very beautiful, nor witty or graceful, she had no particular talent for singing or drawing or dancing that might have arrested the heart of another. She didn't even any passions that drove her, which might have made her interesting to someon with the same passions.

Her mother, an extraordinarily clever but not very kind woman, often shook her head at her daughter: "Romeo, my Romeo", she would say, "how will you ever find the missing piece of your soul?"

She had herself married Romeos father at only 19, and he had died young enough that she had never had to let go of her belief of perfect love. Now, Romeo was quite content with her life: She had all that money could buy and great passions had not yet entered her life. But a child will believe its parent, and so, over many years, a hole was carved into her: It had the shape of a person, the missing piece of her soul that her mother had been to her father.

And so, when one day the most beautiful red-haired woman Romeo had every seen, more beautiful even than anyone she could dream of, came into town, she felt her take the shape of the hole in her chest. It was like something tearing everything down in her chest, building it up again to something that would fit itself perfectly around the shape of the newcomer. It was painful and exquisite, horror and awe and absolute determination. And her mother saw the expression on Romeos face and Oh! How her daughter was transformed. Finally she could see that feeling on her face which had carried herself to riches and love, finally her daughter was beautiful with wonder.

When the woman, poised and graceful and possibly royal, asked for Romeos hand in marriage only a week later (many things had happened between the two, late at night after breathless dancing in empty corners of the house and in the yellow cornfields under the pale blue sky of early morning), the mother gave it to the red-haired woman without a second of hesitation. She did not see her daughters face then, wide-eyed with shock. And when the woman said she would take Romeo to her homecountry, many miles away, the mother had tears in her eyes that might have been grief or joy. Romeos eyes stayed dry.

And so Romeo joined her newly-wed wife on the Sea, to the Land she was to know as the Green Isle. Every night on the ship, they retired early, and the older guests would smile at the love of youth and blush at their own memories.

When she coughed up blood for the first time, waking up in the morning, she thought nothing of it. And when it happened the next time and she found two small bruises on her neck, only for a few seconds before her red-haired wife swept her away.

In fact, Romeo thought not much of it at all until the morning where she woke up a bit earlier (the moon had just begun to fade) and her red-haired wife, the missing piece of her soul, was on top of her, pressing her into the soft pillows with more strength than Romeo had ever felt in those soft hands. Her perfect mouth on Romeos neck, and was drinking her life-blood. Romeo did not fight. She did not even flinch away.

But when they had arrived in the red-haired womans beautiful, richly furnished townhouse, Romeo waited until she was fast asleep. And then she took a knife from the kitchen, and she straddled her wife very gentley, and as the blood flowed deep and red and warm from her neck, Romeo drank it all, drank what was rightfully hers.

She has slept in that room every night since the. And none of the young girls that leave in the morning have ever seen it. But they don't think of this- All they know is that they have found what was missing from their soul

When the boy opened his eyes, he found himself sitting on a throne that he had not asked for.

Romeo King of Puppets | Lies of P

Tg spaderen