Angus, fully dressed now, was carrying a silver tray bearing the breakfast he'd prepared for the young mistress of the keep, which was how he thought of her now.? He had just reached the door to her room when it swung open before him to reveal Mikayla in the robe that he'd left for her when he'd put her to bed the night before.

"Ah, good morning, mistress," he said genially, bowing his head respectfully as he stepped into the room.? "I hope that you slept well. I thought that perhaps you might prefer your breakfast in here this morning, after all of the..." he paused, searching for the right word "...events of last evening" he finished finally. ?

Setting the tray down at the small sitting table near the bed, the man began laying out the various dishes.? Toast, with a small jar of fruit preserves. Slices of cured ham, edged with honey.? Braised fish, golden brown. Two boiled eggs, each in their own silver cup. A small bowl of steaming porridge. And a crystal goblet which he proceeded to fill with a sparkling water.?

When all was ready, Angus stepped back and held out the chair for Mikayla to sit.? "I hope this will be satisfactory, mistress."

?- Mikayla -

Mikayla gasped as she open the door to find Angus there. At the sight of him, she smiled. She must have been dreaming. There was just no way.

“Good morning Angus. ?Everything looks delicious. thank you so much.” She said as she sat down.

For a brief moment Mikayla?thought that this was only her second day here and that everything from the previous night was just a big elaborate dream brought on my trauma. After all all she had experienced was surly too fanciful and farfetched...maybe now she would meet the lord of the manner and learn once and for all what she was doing here.

And then his word said told her otherwise. Mikayla blinked up at him. “You mean last night wasn’t a dream. Last night actually. You mean Last night actually happened?” She asked puzzled.