ROMANCES in fairy tales are equal parts suffering and passion, it seems. Fairy tales have always told Sal that a better ending waits at the end. Sal lay on the floor with her left hand atop the page of “Romeo und Julie”. Her hand lay outstretched towards the ceiling, where a sky would be if she was not bound in the house, a sky she could’ve seen any time, any day if not for now.  

It has been a week since the letter was discovered. It has been almost two weeks since she was in Ren’s presence. She has almost forgotten the color of the setting sky. The gentle touch and the whispering, serene voice of that man lingers in his absence.  

The remaining days were quiet and dull punctuated with the occasional visit of the Signor and all the more the strange weight grew in her chest. It was a weight that fumed like ember quietly at the Signor’s presence but quickly melted into a heavy, muddy, solid rock at her.  

She stretched a hand to peek at the page of the book where she had left off. Of course, it was that page. The woman feigns death to avoid an ill-marriage only for her lover to fall distraught at her prone body. A farce that will lead to nothing but tragedy.  

The Signor knocked at the door causing her to try to sit up and grab her veil. All trying to appear the perfect lady still. The Signor came inside with only his cane making a sound. Sal dared not to look at anything but his shoes.  

Metal clinked softly by the table as the smell of soup penetrated the air. The Signor have never brought her lunch before. It was the maid’s job. A vague explanation crossed her mind, an unwelcome reason. For the next few days, the same thing happened. Sal never saw the maid.  

“You’re wasting food, child.” the Signor said today. He must have been staring at the bowls of barely touched food on the table.  

“I will. I’m sorry.”  

The air was tense. Sal did not move from her position nor she raised her head. The words came off like parroted niceties.  

“The maid must have spoiled you.” he remarked.  

Sal shook her head ever so slightly.  

“I will not go easy on you like she did. If you don’t want to eat then you starve.” The Signor repeated.  

Sal gingerly ate the stale food, all the while being watched by the Signor. Even though he never went close, his shoes never left her line of sight. It was unlike the maid, who’d though annoyed and at times, bold, would leave her alone. Sal held herself back from asking about the maid, for if the Signor could remove Oleon and Ren from her, why would he let the maid stay?  

Sal wasted away her days in the small room, making do with the gray light pouring in through the capiz windows. A thin layer of dust had begun to settle onto the walls and on the untouched bookshelves and tables. She slept on the floor, her mattress dangling from the bed. Strange, she did not notice the dirt in the place until the maid was gone.  

For years, Sal had thought this place as her sanctuary. It was a place she could stay to hide when all the visitors came in. A place to hide from the possible scorn and insults people may throw at her when they see her presence. Now, only the Signor came to this room.  

Sal brushed a finger against the thick layer of dust settling on the windowsill, especially thicker at near the edges of the window. It would be a decade still it would seem before the windows get opened again. The silence used to be calming, but now, a deep sense of calm tells her that the Signor is present. He has never left the Casa ever since.  

It is quiet. No visitors to hide from. Sal edged a finger from the top of the inch worth of space between the windows. It went down and down, as she slowly pushed the window panels away wide open. Like a curtain in a theater.  

The sky looked how it used to outside, serene and blissful, clouds glowing like cotton balls soaked in golden liquid with their underbellies gray. It has been more than a week since she’s heard from Ren, the last time she set foot in peace.  

Sal climbed on the windowsill. Her legs strained because of the previous inactivity. Nonetheless, she put one leg over the sill before laying herself flat on it and finally bringing her whole body over it. It was a beautiful sky and a beautiful garden. After all, there was no one else to hide from in the outside.Sal gripped the sill tight. Sal remembered something Ren once told her, ”The worst beasts are not in the forest. They live in the castle.” And Sal wanted none of it.  

A resounding bang vibrated across the place. Sal froze on the edge of the windowsill.  

“Child, get down now!” the Signor commanded.  

Sal wrought it in her mind not to face him as she did as he said. The memory of his face that time was still fresh in her mind,a blank, monotone husk with an angry scowl.  

The Signor angled to raise his cane. Sal covered herself with her arms, by instinct. It did not land. Whether the cane did not reach her or the Signor simply granted her mercy, she did not know.  

“Seeing how bold you are to be so much as asking for danger tell me that you really shouldn’t be kept loose.” The man closed the windows shut. “You must have forgotten the dangers you face when you disobey me.No one should see you.”  

Sal kept her head low and her eyes averted still from him. “I was wrong. I’m sorry.” The words felt empty, like it was a doll speaking those words. It only came to mind now, how even when the Signor was close, he never looked at her.  

“By law, a child is a property of her parents. I will not tolerate you upsetting me anymore.”  

A small flame of that heaviness surged in Sal’s chest. She kept her eyes on the wooden floor, yet with a sudden urge as if to attempt to upset that weight, she glanced up. The SIgnor’s head was almost turned at her direction. It was as if he was averting his eyes too.  

Sal lifted both of her hands as she spoke as if possessed by a self she never knew, “It was fine. Nobody saw me. No one sees me.”  

The Signor went quiet after that. No further words were spoken as he left the room.  

A rush came in to Sal’s nerves. She darted to open the book where she left off, scanning, and slapping the pages away until she reached the end.  

Romeo and Julie. They were both alive at the end.  

 

 

 

FLICKERING lights signaled the end of captivity. It has been quite a few days since Sal started to open her lamplight by the window at the hour before midnight, when only the moon is awake. She’d open her lamplight and flick a piece of paper up and down again, as if a signal, a flickering light of a firefly. 

Soft taps resounded by the window. A man’s shadow lingered just outside, faintly indistinguishable from the dark of the night. Sal opened the windows and cold night breeze rushed freely into the room. Ren squatted on the tiled roof by the windows with the moonlight illuminating the back of his head. 

Sal slid a finger on Ren’s arms, up to his cheeks, to the crown of his hair and she breathed a sigh of relief. Itching she was now to feel warmth. Sal grabbed him in an embrace as she buried her face in his chest. He rested a hand on her head, caressing her head as silence pervaded the place. Only their breathing becoming audible, so is the faint heartbeat of the other. 

Sal murmured something, the sounds coming out muffled as she spoke 

“Hmm?” Ren responded as he broke off the embrace. 

“I just thought of doing something wild.” Sal whispered. She followed at the bright, bluish rays snaking across the floor towards the moon. “ I want to fly.” She looked up to Ren. Although she cannot fully see his face, she knew he was smiling at how light his voice sounded. 

“Of course you would, you are a swan.” 

Sal went forward towards the windowsill and climbed up on the dusty, breaking wood. As her two feet settled on the place, and she stood to her full height, a wave of anxiety crashed onto Sal. The green gardens and terra cotta cluster of houses was replaced by a mass of black and gray abstract shapes. She glanced back at Ren, who had his arms poised on the windowsill. Sal shook her head. 

“If we are to go now, we have no time to spare.” he warned. 

Sal squeezed her fingers and carefully climbed off the sill. Sal looked back at the place she has been for almost a decade now. The place also a blob of gray and black shapes under the lack of light. A place she has memorized, a place she thought she had control. Somehow, something told Sal that as soon as she stepped out, she would never see this place again. Cozy and dirty as it is. 

Sal walked to her table and fumbled for a necklace that she had almost forgotten was present. Under the light of the moon, the gold had shone gray, still perfect and lustrous from disuse. Sal squeezed it in her hand, gathering that weight she held before in her chest, as if she could transfer it to that hunk of metal. Sal left the necklace just a few paces outside of her room, where it would be readily seen in a hallway. Enough to send a message. 

And like bats and other creatures of the night, Sal and her beau paced through the roofs. Ren guided her through the steps as his figure her only beacon in the dark, sloped place. Slowly, her eyes began to see the gray outlines and figures of the ridges of the roofs and the shadows of the trees and the stale outline of the roofs of distant Casas and other houses. The wind blew cold freezing her already stiff legs, but Ren was ever so gracious. He assisted her through the steps. He’d go a few paces in front of her and signal her that it is safe to walk on, and she’d walk. 

Soon, they reached the edge of the roof. Ren slipped off the roof first. His tall, long frame made it easy for him to scale the space between the roof and the balcony of the second floor. His hands outstretched, he beckoned to her to jump. 

“Fly”Ren whispered. 

Sal jumped and her small body was caught in Ren’s frame. They then sped through the stairs, on to the carriage hidden behind the thicket of trees quite some paces away from the gates of the Casas and away from the known houses in the place. 

The carriage traversed unknown land. And that is what Sal wanted to call it. It has been long since Sal boarded a carriage that she had to let herself get used to being in a moving vehicle. She distracted herself by climbing through the seat and peeking through the small rectangular window. The lights from the Casa slowly disappeared and so to the roofs, until the whole silhouette of the Casa was obscured by the trees. Nothing was left of the scenery but an endless stream of trees disappearing into the horizon while the moon followed their journey in its flight. A curious sight. Yet, as she looked at the horizon, she cannot help but wonder a stupid idea. Did the Casa disappear too? Swallowed up by the horizon? 

The carriage took bends and turns. Occasionally, the carriage would shake and jolt. The movement and the rocking of the place had rocked her to sleep, if not knocked her from dizziness. Eventually, the carriage was filled by faint, orange lamplight and the travel came a lot smoother and faster. Suddenly, the vehicle came to a halt. Ren’s reassuring hand squeezed Sal’s shoulder as he stepped out of the carriage. 

A foreign voice engaged Ren in conversation. 

“What a strange sight for anyone to be outside at this hour.” the other man said. His voice rang coarse and heavy. 

Sal knew better than to eavesdrop at conversation not directed to her and she almost blamed herself for having ears. She instead tried to direct her focus on the surroundings, on how the orange light flooded the carriage. How the light glowed from a single orb just outside the carriage window. Yet, it was a pity she has ears. 

“It was an urgent business, Sgr. Constable. A sister outside of Calare on the brink” Ren said. 

Sal knew not of a sibling. 

“Is anyone accompanying you?” 

Sal gripped tight to her knees and by reflex, knelt to the carriage floor, her head almost touching the carriage floor as she curled herself into a ball. 

“Only my suitcase and a few implements.” 

The other man asked for the contents of his suitcase to be shown. Sal bristled at the other man’s tone. If monsters masqueraded as men, this is how they must sound like. 

“All clear. “ the other man declared. 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“ I know. I know. Just get your sorry asses out of the place, don’t come back tomorrow.” 

The discomfort did not leave Sal even as they were too many paces away from the place. Sal willed herself to glance at the rectangular window at the back of the carriage. The concrete arc where the other man stood guard had slowly begun to blur. And yet, no matter how far they got, she could still see the lamplight in the place. Getting smaller, yes, but not disappearing any time soon. Just like how the lamplights she could not extinguish whenever the Signor comes to her room. 

“I’m scared.”Sal whispered. 

The man wrapped an arm around Sal and she buried herself in his shirt. Quite a pity, the man seemed to hate overcoats, for she’d surely hide herself in them. 

“Trust me. The Signor will not be able to come after you.” he assured her. 

Sal paused. Her chest swirling with a weight she cannot place, but for what it is worth, it was not certainly joy or excitement. 

“Ren?” Sal called. 

“Hmm?” 

“Would you be upset if I-”she paused. The question she started placing, phrasing well into her mind. “I just don’t know. I am scared.” 

“You have me.” Ren placed a firm hand over her head. 

The place outside has melted into a blob of dark shapes, no longer a Casa or a house distinguishable from sight. They were so far, far away. “I’m scared.” She gripped her skirts. “Perhaps, can we go back?” 

The other man fell silent. Maybe, it did upset him. “You were saying?” 

“I mean, perhaps can we wait out the night? Or at least wait a few hours before dawn before we truly set out?” 

Silence seized the space. Ren’s touch almost went cold. 

“When we met, you said you wanted to go and see the world outside.”Ren edged a hand towards Sal. “All this effort. All the progress you’ve made, it will all be lost. An opportunity that will be lost.” 

Sal squeezed her fingers tight. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” she put a hand to her head, to her ears as she covered her face with her hands. Her face feeling so exposed at the loss of the veil that should’ve covered her. And she stayed like that for some time, her attempts to reply swept away by the motion of the carriage as it whisked them farther and farther away. 

“I love you above anything else.” Ren whispered. 

Sal craned her neck to look at the man as she imagined his face looking at her. Sal failed to eke out a reply. Instead, she strained to give him a long smile, before finding herself daunted by the weight of her own uncertainty. 

Sal found herself wrapped in his embrace, her cheeks pressed against his chest. She can hear him, hear his breathing. For awhile, only the sound of the horses’ hooves and the wheels stirring punctuated the sound of his breathing. Then, came a long sigh. 

“ At this point, I want to be honest with you.” 

The man broke away from the embrace. The shadows of the trees and the shrubbery around them barred the little light from passing through. A soft jingle and a small clank chirped among the sounds of the carriage. Suddenly, he embraced her again. Warm air fanned Sal’s face. 

His lips conquered hers. A wild thump echoed across Sal’s body. His hands searched the small of her back. The kiss went deeper, searching, probing, questioning. Panic. Sal opened herself, letting him in. The cold night vanished. 

The young man had taken to remove Sal’s panuelo. Then, it was the camisa, then the saya. All the little implements and coverings were taken off. A strange heat crawled onto Sal from her face down to the tips of her fingers. As she sat exposed, it felt like being a child taken to the bath. 

Ren laid her still on the seat. A few minutes passed with them like that. He was quiet as he seemed to stare at Sal. Yet, his features were obscured by the darkness. 

“Ren?” 

He kissed her again. Heat enveloped Sal’s body as he kissed her ever so softly, tracing the remnants of wet liquid that dripped from the side of her mouth. For a second, the world forgot time. 

“Romeo und Julie was a lie.” 

Sharp pain shot on Sal’s stomach. Needles clanked inside her, growing, threatening to burst. She gasped. Air. Strangled out of her at every second. Pain. Air ripped out of the flesh. Again and again. Everything spun. The flesh in her back crackled. Trembling. Blackness crept onto her sight. Ren was there. A shadow. And Ren. Nothingness. And then he was there again. 

“It hurts,” she whimpered. 

He was there close. Finger over his lips Ren smiled. 

“Hush.”