Mylady & Mylord

Jamie caught up with me on my way to the stable.

Jamie: “Gillian, do you remember our weekend in the mountains? How much fun we had? And how we said we should do things like that more often?”

Gillian: “Of course! It was amazing… and so funny. Why? Are you planning another mountain trip?”

No — Jamie had planned something else. Something special. We were leaving the next morning. After all, we were “lovers,” as had been clarified on Valentine’s Day, and he wanted to prove it. Oh — and under no circumstances was I to bring Josh. This was strictly a romantic two-person adventure. When we arrived, I was stunned. It looked like a movie set. Everything felt medieval, and people in costumes walked around everywhere.

Gillian: “Where are we, Jamie? This is… unusual.”

Jamie: “It’s a medieval camp, Gillian. There’s plenty to see and do. First, let’s find proper clothing.”

Inside tents, we picked out costumes and changed. When Jamie stepped outside, I nearly lost it. He was wearing a kilt.

Jamie: “You look absolutely delightful, Mylady. Though I had hoped you would show a bit more leg. Considering the chilly weather, I shall forgive you. Ah — I see you are wearing my jewelry. That gives me hope.”

Gillian: “Jamie, I’m dying! You look like a Highlander! But I have to admit — the kilt suits you. Come on, let’s explore.”

First, we tried jousting — like knights, only with rubber lances. Neither of us managed to hit the other.

Gillian: “I deliberately missed you, Mylord. I need your full strength for ranch work tomorrow when you’re cleaning stalls.”

Jamie: “Apart from not believing a word you say, with your ant-like strength I wouldn’t have felt the poke anyway.”

Next came archery. And we both hit bullseye.

Gillian: “I was better. My arrow is exactly in the center. What do you say now?!”

Jamie: “Ha?! Don’t you see mine is even more centered? If I had been able to, I could have split your arrow in half.”

I was starving by then, so Jamie went to get us food.

Jamie: “Well? I chose something from your homeland. These pork knuckles are quite tasty. Do you know how they’re made?”

Gillian: “You’re unbelievable. You bring me to a medieval camp, we’re sitting here eating Bavarian pork knuckles, and you’re asking me for the recipe?! Jamie… that’s exactly why I love you!”

Afterward, we were shown to our accommodation.

Manager: “This is your tent for the night. You’re lucky — it’s the last one.”

Jamie: “No problem. I’ll sleep on the floor. There are carpets everywhere.”

Gillian: “It’s going to be freezing tonight.”

But Jamie insisted. Like a true gentleman, he lay down on the floor — shivering.

Gillian: “Jamie, don’t be ridiculous. Stop shaking and get into bed. It’s big enough for two. We’re adults.”

Jamie: “What is this I hear? Mylady invites the lowliest of her servants into her nightly chamber?! … I come at once!”

The next morning, I woke up in Jamie’s arms. A very romantic moment. Until he opened his mouth.

Jamie: “Ah, Gillian, this night with you was truly unforgettable. I lay there watching you sleep — because with your snoring, I didn’t close my eyes once.”

Gillian: “Jamie… how can such a lovable, sweet guy also be such a complete idiot? We should get going. I think the horse manure is already waiting for you.”