Queen Mab by Kate Danley

the wind, who woos even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being angered, puffs away from thence, turning his face to the dew-dropping south."
    Queen Mab could not bear it.  She whispered to Benvolio to hasten their steps to the Capulets, so that drink and song might cause her Mercutio to laugh once again and bring a carefree smile to this face she held so dear.
    "This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves," interrupted Benvolio, tired of being distracted and pointing to the home of Capulet.  "Supper is done and we shall come too late."
    As they left, Mab looked up in the night sky, filled with such bittersweet happiness for this moment, savoring every word and reliving the rumble of Mercutio's voice in her bones.
    But this peaceful revelry was suddenly replaced with a deep foreboding, some sense that tonight began a terrible march towards some destiny that not even she could forestall. 
    She looked over at the men as they made their way and heard Romeo speak. "My mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars shall bitterly begin his fearful date with this night's revels and expire the term of a despised life closed in my breast by some vile forfeit of untimely death..."
    His voice trailed off.
    Indeed, thought Mab, even the fool Romeo felt it.

Chapter Twenty-Three
    Q ueen Mab stepped inside the ballroom, masked in black velvet and gold.  The room was filled with costumed guests, anonymous in their masquerade.  Mab looked across the room and saw Lord Capulet.  He was red-faced and sweating before even the first hours of the ball had departed.
    Lord Capulet turned to her, as if he felt her eyes upon him.  She saw him swallow uncomfortably as he recognized her and did not understand why there should be this faerie queen, this demigod of dreams in their midst.  As he left the small group he was engaged with and teetered through the crowds to her side. 
    He bowed graciously before her and murmured politely his greetings of joy. "My memory of you comes flooding back as if our meeting occurred only yesterday."
    She smiled.  "Indeed, I am sure that is quite the case.  For me, each year almost seems to pass as quickly as the days."
    "You are welcome here to our humble home, Queen Mab, and I extend our hospitality."
    "I should hope one such as you would not have forgotten the old ways."
    "No indeed, my queen," he turned to a servant and spoke in low tones.  "Milk and honey for this guest."
    The servant bowed deeply and skittered away.
    "What brings you to our simple gathering?" Lord Capulet asked as baskets of rose petals fell from above like rain, causing his guests to laugh and clap in delight.
    She could see he was trying to clear his head, trying desperately to rid himself of the swaying of the room so that he might be able to focus solely upon her.
    From his glassy-eyed visage, she knew it was a losing battle.
    "Fifteen years ago, I gave you a pronouncement.  A very important prediction which would best be served if it was remembered," she said.
    Lord Capulet looked into his glass, trying to remember what it was.
    "Your daughter," reminded Queen Mab.
    "What about my daughter?" asked Lord Capulet.
    "How swiftly the mortal mind forgets," sighed Queen Mab.  "Tonight, she meets her husband-to-be, a man in whom she might take refuge, and in doing so, build a protection for all the House of Capulet."
    "And who is this man?"
    "Why, the County Paris, a man of good breeding and taste who would make a fitting son to your family," she replied.
    Lord Capulet clapped in delight.  "You and I are of one mind and to this my heart is easily joined."  Lord Capulet waved at his ballroom floor.  "You are welcome here to dance and sing among my party guests and to welcome the end of that which would end this House.  Drink!  Be merry!  Work your ways without fear of interference.  I shall be your partner in this cunning intrigue."
    At that moment, Romeo and his party passed.  Queen Mab should have told Lord