Tales of Bjornsborg

Here's a tale of Her Ursine Excellency Baroness Alexandra Tatiana Fedorova of Novgorod, by Brendan O'Corraidhe (Circa AS XX):
She was watching a tourney from the shade of her pavilion one summer day (I was going to say "blazingly hot summer day", but that would have been redundant), sipping contentedly from an iced goblet that was beaded with condensation. Sir Simonn came off the field, sweat pouring down his face.

Smiling, she held the goblet out to him. He gratefully took it from her hands, sighed, drank deeply.... and exploded into a fit of gasping and coughing that was *quite* alarming. He handed the cup back, rasping, "Th-th-that's NOT WATER!"

"No, dear, it's vodka," she smiled sweetly. "You should have asked!"

It might have been the same tourney; I was sharing her shade. I asked her what she was snacking on - it looked like soggy beef jerky. Still watching the field, she replied, "Steak Tartare." Then she turned and looked at me sternly. "And don't you DARE tell ANYONE that I eat raw meat!"