Marcus stared at Cythlla with a cold and dead eyed stare. The man cared not at all for her age, her goals, or loyalties at that moment. Knight captain Evelyn stepped in and his eyes roamed her body up and down with a predatory gleam. 
He wasn't interested in her as man and woman, but rank and prowess. She was higher on the totem but this was a dream so there was a chance she could not be real. The gun didn't budge an inch for many heartbeats as the information gathered began to form his response.
Thankfully, it had nit been pulling the trigger.
Instead he sheathed the weapon and bowed to the superior officer before staring one last time at the necromancer. He offered her no apology but instead gave her advice. "Yours is the dream of a child, Necro-filth. You will never escape the glares of commoners afraid of a shadow. Embrace your own road or be cut down." He spat on the floor at her feet and turned on his heel, black and silver cloak opening up enough to reveal the rapier and hunting knife attached to his belt. Well armed fellow to say the least.

All the talk of dreams and the incessant smell of sweetrolls mad him all the more upset at the situation but there was nothing to be done for it now. A clatter to the side drew his attention as fellow knight-lieutenant Ferossa had a problem with basic interaction with the dream. Both were of the same rank, though shared little history, he still offered a tip of his hat. "having trouble I can see. Well it wont be for long. We are leaving, thank the gods." He motioned to the door Henry had made.
The sooner he returned to reality the better.