A restored villa.
A manageably small duchy.
A barrel of rendered duck-fat.
A garden full of night blooming Jasmine.
A military coup installing your beloved as Queen of America.
A wine cellar.
The crown jewels, reset more tastefully.
The Salmon of Knowledge.
Armfuls of hermione and hellebore.
A tall ship.
A bottle of Laphroaig for every year since you’ve met.
Gem encrusted lingerie.
A dress made of dragon skin
(NB you need not have slain the beast yourself.)
The heads of men who have wronged her–your own if pertinent.
A personal smithy.
A cloak of invisibility and/or chinchilla fur.
A nightgown spun from spiderwebs.
A bevy of swans
(NB extra points if some were once children)
Sole rights re release, purchase, and suppression of the Hobbit movies.
An auto da fe.
The College of Cardinals.
A pillbox hat for every day since you’ve met.
A papal tiara
(NB not the papacy, just the tiara)
A James Bond movie wherein he does laundry for and changes the diapers of all the children he has realistically fathered.
An early 15th century illuminated book of hours
A Greek chorus.
World peace, so she has a fresh canvas on which to work.
An unscrupulous canon lawyer on retainer.
An ice palace.
A forest of silver birches.
A haunted mansion
(NB do not waste your time on those basic ghost free mansions)
An epic poem. Like the Aeneid, but better, because starring her.
A farm. Not the kind that involves work.
A fencing tourney in her honor. Fifty men enter. None survive.