I’m in that dreaded white dress again...

 That hugs her legs and kisses all of the forbidden parts of a woman’s body. The absurdly tight corset that makes her breath come in short bursts. The short sleeves that highlight her porcelain-skin shoulders and the way light gleams as it hits the crane of her neck… Who the hell do they think she is?  Juliet stares at the double doors once more. She hears the guests, their heavy laughter and low-toned conversations. The men waiting for her. It’s this dream again. But she doesn't feel the heaviness of powders masking her face. No intricate patterns of ribbons weaving and twisting her hair to a dull pull. Juliet’s lips part. She’s not afraid this time. 

     She reaches for the door. Her hand wraps around the handle. She pauses, waiting for the dread, the hoof beats, or the thunderous sound of a dozen carriages storming to her family manor. She waits for the blood in her veins to simmer and burn with fear of letting him down. For the bile to rise up her throat and make her throw-up onto the mauve tiled floor.  But it never comes. None of it. And so her shoulders relax a fraction of a second before she swings the door open.  Instead of a room filled with people, there hangs a towering curtain. Juliet’s brow pinches with curiosity. There’s a faint rumbling of whispers on the other side. Nothing like the booming laughter she’d heard before, or the rock-hard voices of diplomatic men talking amongst each other. This is a hive of people. 

     Juliet takes a step forward, then the resonating steps of another strike directly behind the curtain. They boom as if– Juliet looks down to find that the floor has gone from a sea of mauve tiles decorating a ballroom to wooden planks. Her breath catches. There are no more meek windows and long candlesticks that adorn the manor. Instead, ropes weave the top part of the curtains and connect to a monstrosity of clogs and gears. Juliet’s eyes widen and she jerks around to find a black back curtain where the doors had been. She turns away in stunned surprise.  The sound of booming steps gets closer to her, making the planks shift and show that there’s a dull light on the other side of the scarlet curtain. A pair of shoes block it as they come closer to her. Then stop directly before Juliet.  The hum of whispering conversation hushes, and then a wave of applause suddenly erupts from the other side of the curtain.  What is going on? The satin fabric shifts. A body hitting against it. A large body– “Ladies and gentlemen!” The moment his voice booms to the crowd, Juliet instantly recognizes it.  It makes her heart beat against her ears. She fists her hands and swallows.  But a smile escapes her as his commanding voice continues, “I am very pleased to be here this evening and am much obliged with your presence. I have a very important person to me that I should introduce all of you to.”  The smile in his voice makes a thrill of excitement run down her spine.  “For…” the crowd cheers, as if all feeling that buzz as well. So he pauses. And when they settle, he chuckles–satisfied. “For I think she’ll become an important person to you too.” From the corner of her eyes, Juliet sees two men on either side of the curtains each grab a large cord.  “Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado,” the men tense, and Juliet catches it even in the darkness. Her brow furrows. “I would like to introduce…” Then Juliet sees the crack. She’s standing before the ends of both curtains, in the– “Juliet Rukiev–my daughter!” The moment her name booms through, the satin veil part open. Juliet raises her hands to her eyes, flinching out of fear of a blinding light.   

     But the laughs catch her by surprise. 

     She peeks out to see a stage lit by candle light. Her shoulders drop. They must think her shy, for flinching away from dull candles, so she lets her hands fall to her sides.  Dozens of people sit in a small auditorium. Dozens of men. Seeing her face clearly, eyes widen and brows fly. They turn to one another, whispering, as if thinking that she won’t catch their putrid remarks.  Daughter…What about courtesan? Never seen a beauty like hers…Is she being sold? Juliet purses her lips, what is she doing here?

     She turns to find a tall, built man in a fitted vest eyeing the crowd, his lips slightly parted, satisfied. Something falls in Juliet’s chest. He turns his attention to her, twitching his eyebrow to her. Look at them. His mouth lazily turns into a smirk, as he waltzes over. She barely notices the three men entering the stage as his ice blue eye pierce into her with pride.  Lord Rukiev stands right next to her as the crowd continues to murmur. He looks away from her and to the confused lords and wealthy merchants in the crowd. 

     “You look stunning. But don’t be afraid to do what comes next. You’re more than what they think you are. Show them. Show us.” His breath brushes on her left ear as the scandalous comments from the crowd shove at her right.  He parts from Juliet, and a wooden chair is placed before her. Two men stand on either side as they guide a man with a bag over his head to the chair.  Juliet takes a slow breath as her father presses something cold into her hand. She feels the trigger, smooth against her index finger. She knows what she has to do. She approaches the man in the chair that faces her. The men in the stands hush as the candlelight glimmers against the smooth engraves of the pistol.  She closes one eye. Then aims for the temple. One. Two– “Wait.” Juliet freezes as her father raises his hand in halt. He seems to think better of something. Then walks up to the man tied up in the chair with his face covered. He pauses, silence envelopes. He takes the bag off the man’s head. 

     Juliet chokes as Dots’s gentle brown eyes meet hers.  He’s frowning, his lip split, a large purple and green bruise decorating the whole left side of his face. But at the sight of her, his eyes light up, and his bleeding mouth tilts slightly upward. 

     I can’t kill him. Her hands begin to tremble.  She fumbles the pistol. Staggers for it. But she’s too late. It hits against the wood of the stage, and in a split second the gun fires. Juliet’s hands shake as she raises them up to her chest, to find a growing welt of red spreading fast through that dreadful white dress.  From the corner of her eyes, she catches her father’s shoes turning away from her. In disappointment.