Enter now a woman of perhaps thirty years of age, pretty-enough though obviously distressed, tears streaming down her face as she flies through the castle Macduff... er... the Mansion, rather
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*winces slightly at the repeated cries of 'Murder!' (that perhaps draws him back to a memory he doesn't completely have, a memory drenched in madness and another man's blood), even as one hand curls toward the sword at his waist* Who's murdered? Is it the king?
Thank heavens! A man to protect the dame from men. "The heir to the Thane of Fife, Good Sir. The most precious fruit of my womb is kill'd..." She sobs, having just run from witnessing her son's murder, a terrible thing for any mother to witness.
*one hand's at the sword's hilt, but the other goes to her rest on her arm* A child slain? 'Tis a worse crime than to kill a father. Are you at war, sad creature?
Macduff grows very pale, and his hand trembles just a little as he hesitantly reaches a hand out to touch her arm. "My lady -- my love. No tortures here. I'll not have it. My blade and my life to defend thee, if there is need."
The Lady turns to her husband, somewhat shocked. He had run without word, but now here he was... O, his arrival could not have been at a better time. "My lord, forgive your lady! I have sworn you a traitor to thine own heir, and he has't be felled to save thine honor."
He pulls her to him, needing to be sure she's really here, and he hasn't gone mad. "Thou'rt forgiven -- if thou'llt forgive thy husband. Had I known, ne'er would I have left my lady's side."
"Ay... thou'rt forgiven." She nods, allowing herself to be pulled in. He had left without a word, but he is back now. Certainly now he had some sort of reason he had left his family so vulnerable in such trying times? "To where did my lord fly without so much as farewell and goodbye?"
"Alas! The murder of my young son!" A strange place indeed, where this most treacherous of Kings may appear. "Kill'd to attack 't my lord Thane of Fife. Does't thou know who what man wish'st to do such cruel harm, My King?"
Oh yes. She has heard many a rumor about the man before her...
"Why, no man who is any man should slaughter a child." Inwardly, he shakes. But outwardly he is collected and will take her hands in his. "I swear I will find those that did this and punish them rightly."
"That is a duty for my husband to perform, My King." She insists, pulling her hands from her kings the moment it would not be rude to do so. The lady could almost swear she could smell the blood upon his hands and feel the blackness in his heart. "Justice will be served if my husband is any sort of man."
And the Queen will start some, and her hands will cover her mouth. Clearly she believes herself to be envisioning things. It is a moment before she speaks, "What is this, Lady?"
She looks almost startled to see the Queen standing before her, and nods out of cowardice more than respect. "A child is slain. Slain by most wicked hands..."
"Torture is everywhere methinks, since Macbeth took the thrown." The lady confides, wiping hastily at her eyes. "I know not where I am, and where last I was my son was slain before my very eyes. I have not seen my other, and she is still in swaddling clothes. I fear her fates is the same as my eldest."
"Mine have fallen to the hands of three strange faces." She announces. "But the man I have thought a traitor to country and homestead has proven himself true."
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Typist: *FAILS*
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"Hush hush, good lady, what murder is there?"
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Oh yes. She has heard many a rumor about the man before her...
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