Really, it was most disconcerting. One moment, I was lying in my beloved's arms on the terrace, the purple and green wisteria rioting overhead. Strangely, we were in ball dress in full daylight, but I'm perfectly sure there was an explanation for that.
The next moment, I found myself in a sort of cave, surrounded by a band of what looked for all the world like female brigands! They snatched the pearls from around my throat, muttering something about 'Bandit Booty' and locked me in a room with a strangely spoken and rather scantily clad man called Sven. If I understand him correctly, he wishes me to lie down on a table and let him put his hands on my person! Only a massage, indeed! The last man who put his hands on me that way did not mean anything good by it!
But these strange drinks he keeps offering me do look rather festive, if a little vulgar. I wonder if I might just have a taste . . .
[If this Sven so much as breathed on you, my lady, he is a dead man.~Ed]