Annette looked at Curioso, and he thought to himself that she had never seemed so small.
"Votre rêve, chere?" she asked quietly "What was it?"
A soft look came into his eyes as he started, "Paris.....an early morning... after the rains. There was mist on the inside of the window, so it must have been cold outside..." Annette sighed, and put her face to his chest, "....vin, fromage, et pain...a bagette as long as your arm...I turned to wake you.....and....."
Annette raised her head to look up at him, "Et?"
"And I was in bed with Morzik..."
"Menteur!!" Annette gasped, wide-eyed. As the slow smile crossed Curioso's face, Annette buried her face in his chest and wholly laughed. When the spasms eventually subsided, she sighed, wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, and looked at him again, her smile being replace with the look of grim determination that Curioso was becoming all too familiar with. "Honnêtement, chere, of what did you dream?"

He told her. The monastery, the snow, the mountain, the nearness of it all. The two lay entwined in the growing light of dawn, wrestling with the power of dreams.
She broke the silence, "There has to be a way down for him, chere. If not, we are all doomed." Annette finally spoke, "If we try to leave, his guards will kill us before we leave this valley. If we stay, we are in eternal torment." Her face went pale as she told him of her dream. "People are being drawn here, mon amour....la riante reine, ourselves, and that woman. Dominic's courtesan? Tirseng knows her."
"Are you sure?" asked Curioso
"I am sure of nothing anymore, chere, but I saw the look he gave to her when Tashalan sat. He knows her. Did he mention this to you?"
"No.."

"Are the two of you planning to stay in bed all day?" a voice boomed in to them through the doorway. Shortly thereafter, Ambrose's frame filled the space. He carried a small piece of paper, and made great show of waving it around before crumpling it into a ball and tossing it to Curioso while glowering, "We have an audience with the Prince."