"Listen! What is your duty to his highness King Duncan?"
"To protect his Majesty with our life."
"So you better do it. And you are forbidden from drinking any wine tonight."
Satisfied at last, I stalked away from the king's bodyguards. Today, I would make sure nothing went wrong like in my first life.
"My good, loyal, king-protecting-and-loving, brother Macbeth! It is good to see you. Your home looks lovely."
As I shook his hand warmly, I glanced at Lady Macbeth, who was busy attending to the king. She caught my eye briefly, and smiled charmingly.
I pulled a halfhearted bow in response, trying not to think of her past hand-washing frenzy.
Lady Macbeth had once been a famous beauty. To quote one of her past suitors (not Macbeth), her eyes glittered with a terrifying yet enchanting fire, framed by eyelashes seemingly painted by Michelangelo's very brushstrokes; with a nose and chin chiseled out of the most precious diamond in the mines; and her lustrous red-black hair streamed down her shoulders in graceful waves that gold ornaments could only cheapen its beauty.
Her deep brown eyes seemed to shine with a sharper flame than usual today.
"Thank you. My, uh, wife does the decorating around here." Macbeth twiddled his thumbs in a force of habit, nearly dropping his wine glass as a result.
This beefy idiot, how on earth did he pull off treason in the last round? Oh right, he didn't.
I watched him carefully, attempting to pry murder from his good-natured eyes.
"Speaking of the good lady, did you by any chance inform her of what had occurred at the battlefield?"
"Oh yes, she knows that we have slain the Irish and the treacherous Macdonald ." He grinned again winningly.
I peered closely at his face, trying to decipher if he was being a dolt on purpose or not.
"The prophecy, my dear brother."
"Oh yes," he replied with a pause, "I tell her everything, you see. I wrote a letter."
I groaned internally. I had forgotten about the fiend Lady Macbeth had become to secure the throne. If everything went well tonight, perhaps I could obtain some intervention for this miserable couple. I heard the doctors in England were quite effective.
Night fell, in what felt like a thousand years within a single second.
The black smoke of the sky was a shroud covering the stars from peering down on this miserable earth; the owls screamed and crickets cried in protest. Heart pounding and mind racing, all I could feel was the heavy weight of a kingdom's fate crushing my soul like lead.
I had two choices: to stay at Macbeth's side or guard King Duncan. I chose the latter, selecting a guest room closest to his royal chambers.
The king had sent me to deliver a diamond to Macbeth, yet as I heard his royal, dignified snoring I slunk silently to his sleeping quarters and pushed the door open quietly. This was all very illegal, and my shaking breath betrayed my false composure.
The two chamberlains lay slumped on cushioned chairs along the walls, mouths stinking of intoxication and swords hanging uselessly at their sides.
"Infirm of purpose!" I hissed. I expected too much of these fellows; not many could hold their own against Lady Macbeth's honey charms.
Sword in hand, I crept into a corner hidden away from candlelight and waited for the inevitable.