Ellen knew for sure she wasn’t in Germany.  Yes, it was a castle overlooking a river; yes, she was in a forest; but something was just not right.  Maybe it was the fact that the butler was named Igor. 

She sat in the main lounge close to the roaring fire.  Igor came in and out occasionally offering her something to drink or something to snack on while she waited. 

A huge BOOM  followed by the sound of Wedgwood china  and silverware crashing to the floor made her jump. Igor ran (at top speed for an Igor) right through the lounge towards the dining room. He came back a moment later.

"No need to worry Mith, Iths juth Jurgen.  He’th having problemth with hith  armor.”

“Armor?”  Ellen was puzzled.

A few minutes later a slightly dazed Jurgen entered the room. 

“Are you okay?” Ellen asked, noticing several pieces of cutlery sticking out of him.

“Of course I am. Did I missed dinner?” Jurgen replied as he wiped butter from his forehead.

"You most thertainly did thir, lucky for uth.  Do you want to go upthairs and change?” Igor asked. “I’ll try and get thothe spoonths out of your thuit.”

“Yes, thank you.” He gave Ellen a quick kiss, “I’ll be back down for cocktails.”

Jurgen quickly discarded the suit of armor (and everything else) to take a quick shower.  Ellen had crept into the room and was about to join him when she noticed the faint aroma of thyme.

Ellen's  keen sense of smell could sniff out chocolate and stuffed animals at 100 yards. It didn't take her long to find the source  -- Only one watch in the world smelled like thyme. 

Valentine’s day alone; she smelled a rat. The look of displeasure that crossed her face would have turned Nigel into a handbag and matching shoes immediately.  Well, two could play this game, she thought.

Ellen carefully opened the back of the watchcase …

A few moments later Jurgen was back in the room getting dressed. 

Little did he know he was rapidly running out of  thyme…