Last night, I had the pleasure of attending Mr. MacBeth on the inauguration of his new house in Austral. The dear man insisted that I be the first to walk through the door. He kept the island’s only tree, as well. It is now called the Palabra tree in my honor, as I convinced him to refrain from cutting it down, so charming does it look from across the water.
The house seems to be a modern construction in the Tudor style, if you can imagine such a contradiction. It is full of windows, lights, and exciting contraptions, all of which can be controlled from a panel near the door. He chose the house for its windows, which offer spectacular views from anywhere on his serene little island. Truly, the sun and the waves are most magnificent. From anywhere in the house, one almost feels the sand under one’s toes and the sun on one’s back, so complete is the illusion.
We discussed improvements, and it is clear that Mr. MacBeth intends for his Austral property to be a safe haven and a distraction from the cares of the world. A deck, a pool, and even a hot tub are all in the offing. My company is looked forward to, he says, and it seems clear that he offers me temporary respite and refuge whenever my cares in Caledon become to heavy.
Of course, leisure shall not be the dear man’s only pursuits. He also spoke of defense against pirates, the details of which include a below ground launch for some sort of underwater boat that he calls a “sub” for short. A berm hosting a defense turret, I believe, is also planned. Mr. MacBeth wants to prove his worth to his majesty, hoping to one day be awarded with honors and titles. Truly, I can think of no man more worthy.
We closed the evening with a kiss. I need not repeat to you, my dearest confidante, how this man makes my head spin. I reached up and cupped his chin, assuring him that he was worthy of his majesty’s regard, and then Mr. MacBeth dug his fingers into my hair. He pulled me to him with an urgency that felt almost frightening, but all concern dissipated into wondrous bliss when his mouth found mine. Oh, Diary! My heart seemed to burst for joy as my tongue sparred with his, and I daresay I experienced actual palpitations. I left breathless and dizzy. Above all, I felt anxious for more.
Is this always how it feels to be kissed, I wonder, or does the magic wear off with the novelty of the thing?
Nevermind. I shall enjoy this feeling for as long as it lasts. Until then, I shall hum and smile and comport myself with such serenity of countenance and mind that no one, not even Mr. Plutonian, can disturb my peace. Oh, Diary, it truly is a wonderful thing to have a suitor.
–Miss Palabra Puddlegum–