Till Death Do Us Part: A Paranormal Why Choose Romance (Vows Duet Book 1)

Chapter 23

724 Years Ago

I feel delighted as I spy Juliet with her nurse, her steps hurried as she travels down the street. It has only been hours since I danced with my future wife and kissed those sweet lips that will belong to me and me alone.

Stepping into her path, I grin as her attention snaps to me. Her footsteps falter and she stops, frozen in the middle of the street. I would worry that my presence was unwelcome if she didn’t bestow that dazzling smile upon me.

“Paris,” she greets warmly, then glances around with a horrified expression at the bustle around us. “Count Paris,” she corrects, her voice much more formal.

“Paris,” I remind her, quirking a brow. “Remember, there is no need for formalities with thou future husband.”

She grants me a small laugh, such a beautiful sound I want to elicit from her every day. “Paris, then,” she agrees, but her tone is tinged with a nervous sound now.

Juliet’s nurse mutters something under her breath, shooting Juliet a reprimanding look. Her face falls in response, her fingers worry the hem of her draping sleeve, and she drops her gaze to stare at the cobblestones.

“Come, Juliet,” I urge, offering my arm. “Walk with me this morning.”

She hesitates, then nods, refusing to look at her nurse. “Yes,” she murmurs, taking my arm.

“Juliet!” her nurse reprimands.

“Enough,” Juliet responds sharply. “I wish to walk with Count Paris for a moment.”

It is a tangible thing in the air, the way her nurse bites her tongue, following behind us with a disgruntled attitude.

“How did thou sleep?” I ask, relishing the feeling of her fingertips against my arm. In my head, my mind revisits the dancing we did, allowing the music to permeate my brain. I nod at a passerby, noting that Juliet has fallen silent.

“It was an eventful night,” she says, just as I glance down at her. Her eyes find mine and I suck in a breath at the regret in them. “I’m afraid I found it hard to sleep.”

I pull her to a stop, studying her intently. “Juliet, if I was too forward, I beg thou forgiveness. I did not intend to upset thee.”

Juliet shakes her head gently, her fingers digging into the flesh of my arm. “No, Paris,” she says softly. “Please, no. ‘Twas not anything thou did. I…I quite enjoyed our exchange.”

“Then what, dove?” I urge. “Tell me who has upset thee and I will erase them from this world.”

Though my tone is light, teasing even, I have never been more serious. If someone upset Juliet after I left her last night, I will end them for causing her displeasure.

“Dove,” she repeats, her eyes slipping closed, her voice dropping to a whisper. “How has this happened, and all at once?”

I glance around and pull her toward an alleyway that’s deserted. Juliet’s nurse protests behind us, but I ignore her, knowing she’ll witness that nothing truly improper is about to happen.

Once between the buildings, I turn to Juliet, catching her face in my hands. “What is it, Juliet? What has given you such woe? Tell me.”

Her eyes glimmer with tears. “I don’t know what to do, Paris,” she whispers. “How can one be faced with two such decisions at once, which shall alter the course of their life? As surely as my heart beats in my chest, is it impossible to choose. For choosing one or the other shall destroy one half of my soul.”

I furrow my brow. “What are these choices of which you speak, my love? There is only one choice—that of our impending union—is there not?”

I study her as my words settle and know: someone else has approached Juliet for her hand.

I bristle, my grip tightening on her face. “Who?”

Juliet shakes her head as much as she can while snared by me, simple tears flowing like the Adige River down her cheeks.

I sigh, leaning forward to press my forehead against hers. Gazing into her eyes, I attempt to convey how much she means to me with a single look. She does not know it was a year ago that I first laid eyes on her and saw her as a woman, instead of the child I had always viewed her as. She does not know that I have waited, biding my time, so that she may have time to grow and enjoy her youth before I aimed to make her my wife. It was only after hearing that Lady Capulet was seeking suitors for her daughter that I stepped forward.

Moving, I kiss away the salty tears on her face, causing her breath to catch. “Do not forget me, dove—my Juliet,” I murmur into her ear. “For I can never forget you now. You speak of halves of your soul, but my love for you devours my entire being in whole.”

“Oh, Paris,” she cries, closing her eyes. “You make this harder with honeyed words.”

While she still silently weeps, I pull away from her and finger several strands of hair that have fallen from the intricate plait that circles her head, tucking them behind her ear. I press my lips to her cheek in a lingering kiss and her eyes flutter open.

“I have waited many days for you,” I tell her. “More days spent waiting while you make your decision will not affect my love for you.”

Before I do something untoward that will land us both in trouble, I step away from my future bride. Because that is what she is—I am determined she will be mine.

I bow to her, my eyes staying on her. “I will call upon you soon, dove.”

I set my teeth as I walk away from her, the very fiber of my being crying out at leaving her behind. Juliet’s nurse harrumphs at me as I pass by, but she looks less put out and more unsure, her hand fluttering nervously near her throat.

Stepping out of sight once I clear the alleyway, I wait, watching. A few moments after I leave Juliet, she and her nurse continue the path they started before my interruption. When they turn into the churchyard, I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that she likely goes to pray for guidance.

I send my own plea to God, asking Him to grant her the wisdom to see my love and devotion to her.