Book of Oneshots

Macbeth

"Come now, Cousin Kitty, you must get ready for the coronation!" My older cousin, Lennox, frowns at me, his thick, dark lips turning down at the corners, at my beige saffron shirt and black trousers. "Why are you wearing servants' clothing? And a male servant, at that." Lennox doesn't approve of me in mens' clothing, but I refuse to wear the horrid gowns the ladies of today are forced to wear; they're so restricting.

"Hear me, Lennox: I'm not going!" I utter lazily, lounging on my chair, head thrown back.

"No! You listen to me, Katherine Thompson!" Lennox cries, his normally warm hazel eyes narrowing coldly at me. "You will go to that damned coronation if I must drag you kicking and screaming!"

"Then I suppose you should get ready to drag a dead-weight body twenty miles across rough terrain, Cousin." I say cheerfully, grinning, making him glare at me.

"You're going. End of discussion." He raises an eyebrow and crosses his thick arms over his broad chest.

"We'll see," I say stubbornly, winking at him.

*

"What was that you were saying about not going?" Lennox asks, playfully nudging me. I glare at him and scoot over on the carriage bench, moving as far away from him as possible.

"I will not stand for this," I mutter angrily, turning my fiery gaze toward the passing lands.

Lennox threatened to burn all my comfortable clothing if I wouldn't let the maids dress me. I refused to wear a dress in the comfort of my own home, so I grumbled as the maids buffed and polished every surface of my body. I pouted as they forced me into a dress; it was off the shoulder and ombre style—light blue at the bodice, and midnight blue at the skirts with glitter scattered across it so that it resembles the night sky. I glared as they put silver boots on my feet and silver elbow-length gloves. I growled as they tamed my long curly hair into a large bun at the back of my head; the one stipulation I had was that they leave a few curls out so that they frame my face. I refused to allow them to put makeup on my face; I hated it.

Once we arrive at the palace, Lennox steps out of the carriage and offers his hand to me. I take it, smiling softly, then stomp on his foot with my heeled foot.

"Ah," he groans, forcing a smile. There are people around, so he can't make a scene.

We walk arm in arm up to the palace doors, where we must part ways.

"So long, Cousin," I mutter, picking up my gown and starting to walk away. He catches me by my elbow and pulls me back to him. I thud against his chest and he hugs me.

"Behave yourself, Kitty," he mutters into my ear. "There will be lords and ladies watching your every move, so you must act properly. Please, Kitty; if not for yourself, then for me. You must find a suitor if you wish to leave this life of poverty."

I pull away, squeezing his arm gently and smile at him. "I'll be fine, Lennox."

"Very well," he sighs. Lennox bows deeply to me, and walks off to the servants entrance in the kitchens. I take a deep breath before holding up my gown and stepping inside the palace.

Oh, but the palace! It's magnificent! The room is covered in a soft yellow glow, people are milling about, finding familiar faces in the crowd; the aroma of wine and roasted meat makes my stomach grumble. At the center of the room, a grand wooden table is surrounded by one hundred, hard, wooden chairs, with two large comfortable thrones at the head.

I stand in a corner, resigning myself to a long night of misery.

"Good evening Lady Katherine! I hope you are well?" A short, thin man with greasy hair grins at me. I hold in a groan, recognizing the sleazy man as Lord Ross. He is the cousin of Lady Macduff.