Drifting off to sleep every night only to tumble right back into my girlhood dreams and fantasies, I find myself delightedly being whisked away to the grandest palaces of medieval times in the most romantic, spontaneous of ways.
As unseen handmaidens swathe my body in rich velvet and embroidered silk brocade, I keep my arms outstretched, my neck long and my head high in relish at the pampering I am receiving.
Soon, my reflection has donned on the most elaborate, luxurious of ball-gowns, a dream crafted entirely out of overlapping layers of silk brocade and slippery satin in alternating shades of cream and ivory-white. I draw in my breath sharply as invisible, oddly strong hands tug and tighten the ribbons that hold my corset close.
My ebony-black hair is piled atop my head in an intricate mound of braids and festooned with baroque pearls and moonstones. Precious gemstones glimmer around my neck. As a final touch to my glory, I adorn my earlobes with a pair of dangling duchesse pear earrings in a darkly gothic shade of burgundy.