Page 114 of Captive Bride

- Isobel

I stop short in writing my last name. I’ve lived my life as a Capulet, and look where that got me. I think I’d like to die as someone else. Someone not bound by the horror that my name carries with it.

For the rest of my life, what little now remains, I’ll just be Isobel.

I set the letter gently onto the desk, running my fingers across my signature. It feels right.

My hand finds its way into my boot, grabbing the dagger there with a delicate, almost respectful touch. I feel good, knowing that Tristan’s dagger will end this.

One final gift from him.

My freedom.

I don’t tremble as I hold the weapon out before me; instead, I grasp the handle firmly with both hands. I think of the pain with a sort of numb removal, I think of my death with an utter lack of fear.

My lips pull back into a smile. Wherever I’m going, I know Tristan won’t be far behind.

It’s this thought that I cling to as I prepare to draw the blade into my chest, it’s his face I see. I extend my arms as far as possible, eyes shut tight in determination.

This is it.

I pull back.

“Isobel!”

I nearly scream in surprise, head whipping around wildly to see who’s called my name.

Father Lawrence stands in the doorway, hands thrust out in a calming gesture.

“Isobel, don’t,” he says, eyes pleading.

“Why not?” I challenge. “What possible reason do I have to go on living?”

“You don’t have to do this, Isobel. There’s another way. That’s what I came to tell you. I have a plan.”

I search his eyes for a moment, hoping beyond hope that it’s true.

“For Tristan?” I ask, scared of the answer.

He smiles, “Yes, and you.”

My heartbeat picks up speed, hesitant yet hopeful.

“What is it?”

He stares pointedly at the dagger, still held tightly in my outstretched hands.

I lower it slowly, still unsure.

“I need you to do what I said before, fake your suicide, Isobel.”

“How will that help Tristan?”

“With you dead, or appearing to be, he’ll have a chance. Don’t you see? With the Capulet princess dead, Tristan becomes unimportant. Your family only cares to hurt him now because he stands in the way of their plan. With you gone, there’s no plan to ruin. If we get your family off of him, I think we can get him free.”

My head spins, confusion racing through me. To be so near to ending it all, only to be brought back to the point of hoping…I feel faint with the effort of taking it all in.

“Will it work?” I ask, desperately needing it to.

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