The lover of Mercutio

Chapter 3 - Tongues and Tacks

Vita ran from Mercutio's household, reprimanding herself. Why did she just do that? Engage in a battle of wits with the man who seemed to be the king of wits? And then continue on to insult he who is related to royalty? What made her take such a leave of her senses?

Vita stopped running and hid around a corner, her back against the wall. She could still see Mercutio standing there in the entry, in nothing but hose and undershirt, looking at her with interest. It wasn't like she hadn't seen other men, and it wasn't like she hadn't seen other men like him. Many of the poorer lords who did not have seamstresses often had to get their clothing made in the store, and Vita was the only female there. They often gave her looks of lust, trying to tempt her into their beds, but only in succeeding in pushing her from their touch. In revenge, she had often made their clothes uncomfortable to wear, or leave sewing tacks in the finished garment.

But why was Mercutio any different? He was just as foolish as any, however he was a lot younger than many of the local lords. There was much to be said about his appearance, with his soft blonde hair that fell across his piercing blue eyes. Eyes that could both stare deep into her soul and undress her at the same time. Not that she wanted that of course...

"Ugh! I must stop this!" Vita huffed, pulling at her skirts, "This is no way for me to think! Remember who he is! Remember what he represents!" Mercutio was not just any of the stuck-up lords in Verona, he was royalty. His family alone caused untold problems within the city, from the continuously rising taxes to support their luxurious lifestyle, to the sub-par doctors that "healed" the commoners. 

And then there was Mercutio. He had always been insulting everyone around him, even his closest friends. To the men that he insulted, they could not do anything due to his heritage. And the women that he had bedded... She knew many women who thought they had captured his heart, only to see him the next night with another woman on his arm. She had even heard of several children that had been the product of his nights of debauchery, their mothers hushed and sent away to far away rural villages and nunneries so that it wouldn't besmirch the royal name.

Her anger at him finally rose above her girlish attraction, allowing her to collect herself and walk back towards her home. It was a pleasant walk, at least the parts through the lord's houses. All of the gardens were well kept, the pathways were swept and clean, and the air was filled with the smells of rich foods cooking in the kitchens.

As she walked through to the poorer parts of the city, those things changed. People were walking the dirt- and crud-caked streets, coughing into dirty clothing. The only smells were the ones you did not want to smell. What little plant life there was, it was struggling to survive, much like the rest of the population here. Shaking her head, she once again thanked God that she and her father were better off than most.

Their cottage was on the outskirts of the commoner's lodgings, a small two floor stone house, with pleasant fir trees sprouting either side of the door way. She fondly remembered her and her mother decorating the trees during festivals, how she would struggle to reach any higher than the lowest branches, then have her mother take her upon her shoulders. Vita sighed. She missed her mother. If only she had been able to gave the care given to her that she had needed, else she wouldn't have died from infection.

"Father! I am home!" she called into the upper floor, pushing her way through some silks hanging from the roof. Even though she scorned all things delicate and feminine, she still enjoyed feeling the lush fabric and creating beautiful garments. She was just admiring a new bolt of velvet when her father poked his head out of the fitting chamber, his face lighting up in happiness.

"There you are daughter! Would you be so kind to come in and help this lady with her fitting, she is attending the ball this week and requires some assistance," he said, beckoning in Vita to the fitting chamber.

"Of course father, anything that I can do to help," Vita replied, grabbing her seamstress apron and fixing it around her waist. 

After entering the room, Vita understood why her father needed the help. The lady standing before her had obviously gone to a poor seamstress, for the dress was bagging in all the wrong places, seams were not straight and the accent fabric was both the wrong type and colour. This was going to be some work.

"So what do you want done my lady?" Vita asked, already knowing the answer, whether the lady knew it or not.

"You have eyes, don't you?" the lady scoffed, "It is obvious that the seamstress that made this has no idea what she was doing!" Turning the lady around, Vita could see that the woman was pretty, but also relatively plain, with long brown hair and brown eyes. Her skin was the pale alabaster most ladies of Verona had, due to their staying indoors all day. 

"Yes, well, you can be sure that my father and I will make this a masterpiece. Would you like us to replace the accent fabric? We have some lovely velvet that just came from the northern provinces that would make you look stunning," Vita soothed, pulling out the bolt of velvet that she was admiring before. The dark blue would look beautiful against her pale skin, as well as making the rest of the dress look much more expensive. 

"Hmmm, well, it does look lovely..." the lady said, her eyes softening whilst looking at the velvet. "You have an eye for this, my dear," she continued, looking at Vita. "I could employ you in my personal staff to make all of my dresses. It might certainly help to keep a certain lord interested in me," the woman giggled, holding up the velvet to her face. 

"And which lord would that be, my lady?" Vita asked, trying to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Yet another lovesick woman thinking that she needed a man in her life.

"Romeo Montague of course! One of the most eligible bachelors in Verona! But alas, I am a Capulet, so our love is fated not to be," the lady swooned, her lips turning down into a frown. "But I'm sure it could be possible, as I am only a niece of Lord Capulet, so my marriage is not as important as others within the family."

Vita again had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Another one of the many things plaguing the city was the feud between the Montagues and Capulets. Their gangs of men would brawl in the streets, causing havoc, and they constantly would try and cut off each others businesses, not thinking about the effects on the general public. "Well my lady, I can tell you that Romeo himself did visit this store only yesterday, and he bought some lovely blue silk to make his clothes. I would say that you would match him quite well," Vita advised, thinking of the money that would come from this. Enough to get her and father some more new stock, and maybe even some nice food. 

The woman's face brightened, looking at Vita with glee. "Oh yes! Thank you my dear, I will take the blue then, and have you make me the most beautiful dress! Oh thank you!" the lady exclaimed, gripping onto Vita's hands. "Oh, you have given me the most wonderful blessing! Please, call me Rosaline, for you have helped me so," she said, looking most joyous at the prospect matching Romeo at the ball.

"It is not a worry, my lady. If that is the case then, I shall start making the adjustments now, else we won't get this done in time for the ball!" Vita smiled, delicately removing her hands from Rosaline's and getting to work.

"Please dear, call me Rosaline. What is your name?" she asked, standing upright with her arms outstretched for Vita to get to the dress.

"Vita, and please stand still, else I will accidentally prick you with a tack."