My dearest Malcolm,
As you know, I was invited to the Macbeths' feast yesterday evening due to the fact that Lord Ross is my brother. I have done as you asked and kept an eye out for anything out of the ordinary, and I fear your suspicions are correct. There is indeed something most odd going on. I was on the end of a table quite near the door, and I was seated beside Lady Lennox, which I was rather sorry about. You know how much she talks. Everything began in a normal fashion, but after we were seated things took a turn for the strange.
We had hardly sat down when his Majesty left the hall suddenly. He exited through the door close by me with an odd expression on his face. He looked anxious and relieved at the same time. Curious, I, too, left my seat in order to look around the door. Fortunately, nobody noticed my behavior, or if they did they did not find it unusual. I saw the king standing in the corridor by the front doors, near where we first met when my family came to one of your father's banquets years ago, and he was talking to a man I did not recognize. The man was wearing clothes typical of a peasant, though perhaps dirtier and more worn than average, but what really unsettled me was the blood upon his face. I could not see any injuries on him, so it worries me to think where it came from. I was not able to overhear any of their conversation, but the man's presence gave me a terribly ominous feeling. At that point, Lady Lennox noticed my absence and called to me, so I had no choice but to return to my seat. She promptly began droning on about the latest fashions, gossip, and all of those other things you know me to care little about.
His Majesty reentered the room soon enough, and was scolded by the queen for not properly entertaining his guests. He then remarked upon Banquo's absence. I had not noticed it until then, but once it was pointed out it struck me as quite odd. Banquo is a good friend of the king, not to mention the commander of his army, and I could not fathom why he would not attend. My brother said that Banquo had been out riding with his son, Fleance, earlier that day. He thinks that Banquo was probably just delayed returning, which is a perfectly logical explanation, though I still cannot seem to shake off that sense of foreboding I felt when the strange man came to see the king.
After his Highness had finished speaking, my brother asked him to sit down, to which he replied that the table was full (or at least I believe that is what he said, for Lady Lennox was talking most loudly in my ear). Then Lord Lennox pointed out the empty seat that had been saved for his Majesty. The king asked where his seat was. Your various dinner party pranks over the years caused me to assume that he was making some sort of joke, but then I remembered that he is not like you. He has never struck me as the joking type anyway. Also, his confusion seemed genuine.
A moment later, the king's confused expression was replaced by one of utmost fear. I was utterly bewildered, as were the other guests, judging by their faces. He started yelling at the empty chair. I swear I am not making this up. I could hear everything he said, for even Lady Lennox had fallen silent to watch. I believe he said "Do not shake thy bloody hair at me," or something of the sort. My brother expressed concern over the king's health, but we were reassured by Lady Macbeth that this sort of behavior was normal for him and that he would recover momentarily. I suppose I use the word "reassured" lightly, for it is not the most reassuring thing to learn that your king is mentally unstable.
The king and queen had a private conversation then. He was agitated and she, despite her assurances that this was normal, seemed quite irritated. After a brief argument that I could not catch a word of, his Highness apologized to us for his behavior and echoed the queen's earlier statement that it was not unusual for him. He proceeded to toast to all of us and to Banquo. Then suddenly, he became disturbed and began shouting at the air again. He told whatever he was seeing that it had marrowless bones, cold blood, and unseeing eyes, as if it were some sort of ghost. Lady Macbeth assured us once more of its normality, but even she did not seem so sure of her words this time. The king told his apparition that he would not be afraid of it if it were in any other shape or if it were alive again. This confirmed my belief that it was a ghost, and it seemed it was the ghost of a person he had known while he or she was living.
This second fit ended just as suddenly as it had started, and his Majesty said that he was a man again since the spirit was gone. The queen was angry with him, telling him his odd behavior had spoiled the good mood of the gathering. The king wondered how she could see "such sights" and retain a calm appearance. He must have thought that at least Lady Macbeth, if not all of us, could see the ghost as well. My brother asked him what sights he meant, but Lady Macbeth told him not to speak for fear of further upsetting his Highness. She bid us all good night and sent us home.
My brother and I discussed the evening's events on the way back to our castle, but he did not seem nearly concerned as I was. I pray that you, who have seen your own father murdered while under Macbeth's care, may read my account and find it disturbing as well. Please tell me I am not overreacting, or imagining things, both of which my brother seems to think. We have not yet received any news from Donalbain in Ireland, but a friend of mine is in contact with him and says he is well. I hope that you, also, are safe and that you will be able to return home soon. I miss you. We all do.
Ever yours,
Ailsa
A/N: This is my English homework that I decided to upload just because. I've started shipping Ailsa/Malcolm really hard, which is awkward since I invented that ship...