"Y'know what Banquo? I think m'gonna take up fencing. Always loved the idea of having a sword in my hand, y'get me?"
Despite his protests, Macbeth seemed to have cheered up considerably, especially now as he was shoving forkfuls of steak pie into his mouth.
"You realise you don't use swords in fencing, don't you? You'll end up with a foil – good luck trying to stab anyone with that, or whatever you're planning." Banquo was sitting opposite him at the table, his plate untouched.
"Still, Macduff wouldn't be so high 'n' mighty if he had a sabre through his eye" Macbeth said, his mouth still full, miming thrusting a foil through Macduff's smirking demeanour.
"You've been awfully violent minded this week Mac – you really need to stop hanging out with Lady Bethany. I fear she's rubbing off on you."
"Who, Beth? Nah. 'Sides, what could a girl teach me about violence? I suppose you think she'll teach me how to slaughter with 6-inch-heels on, ha, like that's a thing," he mocked.
"I dunno, she seems a little…off to me."
"Eh, you get used to it. Even I have and I don't see her that much."
"Mac you hang out with her all the time. Even when you promise it'll just be us two, she'll be there. Don't you find that strange?"
"Not really," Macbeth replied after a pausing to think for a second, "Why? You jealous or something?"
"What? No! I just think…" His sentence didn't seem to have an end. He knew Macbeth was just joking, but he couldn't help feeling something in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he was jealous. "It's not like that Mac. I just want you to be careful who you're around. That's all."
"M'kay. Whatever you say. Still, I'm not gonna blank her so suddenly, that'd be plain rude. You gonna eat the rest of your pie there?"
"No," Banquo replied a little distantly, obviously deep in though "you can have it."