I dreamt that I was visiting the court of the queen of all the Slavs. I was in the Middle Ages, but I have no idea where I was. The day was special. If I remember correctly, it was a holiday of some sort. There were many guests at the queen’s quarters. She welcomed everyone by pouring honey into a large plate from a tall pitcher. Then she cut a huge onion into rough pieces and threw them into the honey. A young, plump, and jolly woman, she did all this with her own hands as a gesture of hospitality. Her servants only peeled the onion for her. I remember taking one piece and putting it into my mouth. I was rather cautious. Onion and honey tasted surprisingly good together, though. The holiday involved solving some sort of verbal riddle, as well, but I forgot what it was by the morning. To my regret, it evaporated completely. Lying in bed after I woke up, I tried to remember the taste of the queen’s offering. The crunch of the onion was still with me, as was its taste mixed with that of honey. I will have to try the combination one day soon. As for the queen of all the Slavs, she will remain a creature of sheer fancy.