In the Name of the Queen

Sylph returned to the palace early, and Roland watched the minstrel perform in the square and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

It's okay, although the lion opens his mouth when he asks for money, he still uses the money to do things.

The bard polished Roland's first draft, and the performance was a success. The crowd received rave reviews and the reward money was several times more than usual.

After the performance, when Roland was about to leave, the bard with quick eyes and hands swept through the crowd like the wind and stopped in front of him.

"Well, Mr. Roland, the manuscript you gave me is only the first chapter. Today's performance has been used up. You can watch tomorrow's performance."

Seeing this guy's playful face, Roland couldn't help but want to laugh.

My friend, where did your unruly look go?

If it weren't for the seriousness of the matter, he would have to deal with this guy severely.

But business matters are too important to be delayed.

He took out the second paragraph of the improvised manuscript he had just written from his pocket (the first paragraph will be submitted to the newspaper tomorrow) and handed it to the bard.

"Here, this is the second draft. You memorize it first and then adapt it to your own performance. Return the original manuscript to me tomorrow."

Putting the draft into the bard's hand, Roland smiled and teased: "You don't need to pay extra this time, right?"

"Mr. Roland, what are you talking about? You are talking about money or not. You are insulting the performing arts!"

Under Roland's strange gaze, the bard's face became slightly hot, and he felt a little embarrassed thinking about the scene where he had just asked Roland for three pounds of gold coins as a favor.

He took out the gold coins and stuffed them back into Roland's pocket, "Am I someone who values ​​money so much? I just don't want my performance to be looked down upon."

Roland did not expose his sophistry, nor did he refuse to return the gold coins.

He patted the other party's shoulder and said with a smile: "I know, art is priceless, and it is wrong to measure art with gold coins, but artists also need to eat. Can I say it is a pleasure to cooperate?"

"Of course, let's get acquainted with Adam the Bard again."

Roland stretched out his hand to shake his and said with a smile: "My real name is Roland. I will provide you with the original manuscript in the next few days."

"I will give a wonderful performance!" Adam learned to answer and laughed very happily.

He loves art and therefore enjoys being surrounded by an audience.

He also does not reject wealth, so he also likes to be surrounded by money.

Roland's story is different from the classical knight novels and modern sad literature popular in the world, and is more in line with the appetite of ordinary citizens.

After reaching an intention to cooperate, he rubbed his hands in embarrassment and asked softly:

"Mr. Roland, do you have any other wonderful artistic creations? I mean the style is close to your story."

"How about the story of the three-year appointment between the genius boy and the red beard?"

Roland expressed the core of the story in the shortest possible language, and Adam's eyes lit up when he heard it.

He clapped his hands vigorously and exclaimed in approval, "Oh, God, I have met a real genius. I mean, you are a genius for writing such a story."

"Don't take it seriously. The real genius is someone else."

Although his face was slightly red, Roland still said honestly and politely:

"I don't charge licensing fees, but I have to promise to tell the story well. I'll finish telling the story of the elf epic first, and I will provide the manuscripts of other novels."

Although Adam became more and more excited as he talked and wanted to take Roland to the pub to drink and discuss art all night long, the discussion was still interrupted because Roland had to go home.

Adam looked at Roland with disappointment and muttered dissatisfiedly: "Woman, it must be a damn woman who has blocked your path to the pinnacle of art!"

"Okay, Mr. Adam, let's talk next time, I have to go home."

Watching Roland leave, Adam's slightly swollen eyes were full of regret.

You don't need to think about it to know that if you are in such a hurry to go home, there must be a ferocious tigress watching at home.

"Marriage is not only the tomb of love, but also the poison of artistic creation. I am not like you. As long as you have money, you can change your bride every night."

Adam whistled and walked towards the place where the pink light was lit.

It was a good harvest tonight, and he could get another bride.

No, two.

Of course, Roland didn't know what kind of nightlife Adam, a self-proclaimed artist, wanted to lead. He just wanted to go home early.

If he doesn't come home, Lisa will definitely not be able to sleep well.

He hurried home quickly and walked up the stairs in the dark. As he walked towards the restaurant, Roland complained in a low voice: "Lisa, I told you to light candles. We have money, so don't save it."

However, his voice soon stopped.

The restaurant is empty.

There was only hot water to keep the two dishes warm.

Although it has long since cooled down with the hot water.

It seems that my sister is really sleepy today and doesn't even have the energy to wait for him to come home.

After eating, not wanting to wake Lisa up, Roland tiptoed towards the bedroom.

Lisa's bedroom was between his bedroom and the dining room, and he couldn't be too loud.

When passing by Lisa's bedroom, he slowed down, held his breath, and passed by in a sultry manner.

Muffled sounds came from the room.

Mixed with pain.

Roland stopped and his heart stopped.

Something must have happened to Lisa!

It wasn't late at night yet. If she was in good condition, she would definitely wait for him.

Roland ignored the impoliteness of breaking into the lady's room late at night, pushed open the door, and lit the match in his hand.

"Sister, are you okay?"

A match lights a candle, bringing soft light to a dark room.

Lisa raised her head, her hair wet with sweat was disheveled, and her thin lips were pale and without any blood.

Roland was startled and quickly came to the bed and touched Lisa's forehead.

It's not hot, fortunately it's not a cold.

In this era, there are no antibiotics and no special medicines. A cold can easily develop into a terminal illness such as pneumonia.

Fever is much more terrible than being stabbed twice.

The healing skills of the priest can easily treat knife wounds, but they can't treat invisible viruses.

They only blame people who die of colds on their lack of piety.

"Sister, what's wrong?"

Seeing that Lisa didn't have a cold or external injuries, Roland was not relieved, but even more panicked.

"No, it's okay. I'm not injured or sick."

"Sister Lisa!"

Roland protested dissatisfiedly: "What's wrong, tell me, I'll find the best priests and doctors. I can ask Miss Sif, there is always a way!"

"It's really okay, I'm not lying to you." Lisa murmured weakly.

Roland was so angry that he couldn't speak, his eyes were spitting fire.

Stared at by Roland's angry eyes like a sharp blade, Lisa wanted to avoid it, but Roland held her face and couldn't turn away.

His meaning was very clear, and he was not allowed to hide it.

Seeing Roland's concern, Lisa's originally cold body became a little warmer, and there was even a smile on her lips.

She motioned Roland to come closer, and then whispered in his ear: "I'm pregnant, yours."

Roland almost fell to the ground.

He complained unhappily: "Sister, read more, holding hands will not lead to pregnancy."

Lisa's face flushed, "You, what are you talking about! I mean there is a supernatural ability like you!"

"Sister, I suggest you re-learn the most basic grammar, etc."

Roland's eyes were shining with a fiery light.

"You are pregnant too?"

"Well, my profession is [Chef], which is probably a supporting auxiliary profession."

Roland was silent for a few seconds, and then burst into a hearty laugh.

"Sister, there is no such thing as auxiliary or not in supernatural professions. As long as the strength is strong enough, every profession is a superman."

"I must open the champagne tonight! No, wait until my sister recovers!"