For some reason, the Capulet adviser found the bitter words thrown at her much more satisfying than the blows she had landed. Perhaps it was because Tiberius Capulet was the one who taught her how to throw her punches, how to make her foes taste blood. She had learned how to snap bones and break skin through his mentoring and assistance. Then Orpheus had taught her how to snap and bite, how to roughen her edges that had become too softened, too refined. But those words? The ones that carried nothing but venom and loathing? They were all her.
As she watched Alvise’s spawn rise up -- beaten and bleeding, all at her hands (hands that had only wanted to care for her family, her dying Capulets) -- she smirked, the words doing nothing to
As she watched Alvise’s spawn rise up -- beaten and bleeding, all at her hands (hands that had only wanted to care for her family, her dying Capulets) -- she smirked, the words doing nothing to