"Milady, how might I serve thee?"
"What?" April turned around to see who had spoken and was shocked to see Mark standing before her dressed in leggings, pointy toed shoes, sword at his hip and a cape covering his velvet shirt. His hat was the same black velvet with three long feathers sticking out of it. "Why are you dressed like that?"
"This is how I always dress; this is how you've commanded all the knights of your court to dress. You said it complements what you wear and you never have to worry about your outfits clashing with ours."
At his words, she looked at what she was wearing and was shocked to see she was wearing an ankle length gown of rich, heavy green and gold brocade, golden slippers and a floor length cape made of a dark purple material she guessed was wool. She felt a weight on her head and reached up to feel a tiara. "What's happening? Why are we here?"
"We always come to your castle by the sea this time of year! I think perhaps hunger has made you a little faint." He went to the door of the room they were standing in and upon opening it, he yelled, "The Queen is desirous of sustenance! Send a servant with meat and grog immediately!"
April was so confused, she walked to a chair and unceremoniously plopped down into it. We "always" come here? "My" castle by the sea?
Before she could ask Mark anything more, there was a knock on the door and Mark opened it to reveal Illya carrying a large tray with covered dishes upon it and a large pitcher and two mugs.
"Oh, thank God! Illya, please tell me what is going on around here!"
She was astounded when the blond actually cowered in front of her. "Begging Your Majesty's pardon," he replied as he looked at the floor, "but my name is Dylan."
"No! This is all wrong! I am not a queen and you are not my servant! You're my lover and Mark! Mark, you are my partner!
Mark pulled his sword in a fury. "You say that I am your partner in all things, but in the same breath, you confess that you are sleeping with him? Harlot! Strumpet! I will not raise my sword to you, but I will kill the one who has made me a cuckold!" Illya tried to evade the angry Englishman, but was trapped between a table and a wall. Taking advantage of that, Mark thrust his sword into the man's belly and watched in satisfaction as the smaller man screamed in pain, slid to the floor and stopped breathing.
"Noooo!" she cried as she turned and ran from the room. Somehow, she found herself running down a path away from the castle. She rounded a tree and Mark caught her up into his arms. "Let me go! You killed him!"
"He was nothing, Milady, nothing at all. I am the one you are meant to be with; we are meant to be." He leaned in for a kiss.
"No, Mark, leave me alone! Stop it!"
She bolted upright in bed. She almost jumped out of it when a voice from her left said, "I was about to call you. Are you all right, April?"
I almost forgot I'm at Illya's! She flopped down beside the Russian who grabbed her hand and kissed it. "It was a bad dream," he stated. Do you wish to talk about it?" As a Section II, he was all too familiar with nightmares, both his and Napoleon's.
She turned into him and molded her nude body against his side. "It was a weird dream, Illya. You, Mark and I were in a castle. I was Queen of wherever we were and you were a servant. Mark was a member of my court."
"That does not sound so bad. Why were you thrashing about?"
She started to tell him, but changed her mind because she felt that would be disloyal to her partner. "Oh, Darling, I didn't understand what was going on, I had no idea how any of us had gotten there or why we were dressed in seventeenth century clothing. I guess that's why I was moving about; it's already fading away." She couldn't bear to tell him that Mark had murdered him in her dream. "What time is it?"
He glanced at his watch's glow in the dark hands. "Three twenty – five."
"Darling, sorry I woke you. Let's get some more sleep, six AM will be here all too soon."
Illya kissed her forehead and rolled back over to sleep. She laid there staring at what little she could see of his bare bones furnished bedroom, so different from her own. Mark hasn't treated Illya any differently since I told him about us.* I'm just projecting my fears onto Mark since I know he has a little crush on me. It will never become problematic. She gave into one of her childhood superstitions and crossed her fingers. I hope.
*ref. "Full Disclosure"