Type-Moon: I, Mordred, am so filial.

Three minutes later, when Mordred took his hands off Guinevere's eyes, to be honest, Guinevere felt a little disappointed.

"No, where is the big baby you promised me?"

"I'm all ready, and you show me this?"

Guinevere lowered her head and looked at the large patch of lush"weeds" in front of her, with a very obvious look of doubt on her face.

With her eyes, she could naturally see that Mordred should be planting something here - but if she was asked to go a step further and distinguish what these things were, she would be a little helpless.

Of course.

As a noble princess and a pampered princess, she didn't need to understand these things.

Born rich, she only needed to learn how to enjoy them.

But Mordred was different.

Someone once said that the rabbits in the Celestial Empire are a race that has the word"farming" engraved in their genes and on their souls.

No matter where they are, when they see a large piece of wasteland, they always want to focus on something.

In this regard, Mordred is no exception.

"This side is potatoes, this side is fennel"

"There are two prickly ash trees here!"

In front of this field, which was less than an acre in size, Mordred proudly introduced the types of crops to Guinevere.

He spent a lot of time and effort to open up this field.

From the selection of the plot to the reclamation of the field, the sowing of seeds, daily watering and weeding... all were done by him.

In order to make these little things grow better, Mordred even asked Morgan for some potions that could increase the fertility of the soil and make the plants grow quickly.

Looking at the two prickly ash trees that grew up almost overnight, Mordred felt more and more that his mother had really chosen the wrong career.

On the other hand, Guinevere didn't really want to listen to what Mordred said.

But out of her love for Mordred, she tried to pretend to listen carefully.

Because you like it, so I like it - the so-called love for the house and the dog, probably is like this.

"It just so happens that these things will be ripe soon. We will have a feast to eat in the future."

As Mordred said this, he ran to the edge of the field and dug a potato seedling out of the soil with his hands.

When Guinevere saw with her own eyes how many potatoes were under this potato seedling, she was shocked by this crop that she had never seen before.

"one two three four……"

There are seven fresh potatoes in total. Three of them are larger, each about the size of two fists.

The other four are smaller, also about the size of a fist.

"How do you eat this?……"

Guinevere looked at the dirty potatoes dug out of the ground, and a hint of hesitation appeared on her face.

Girls always like things that look beautiful.

Just like the fairies in the legend - the stories say that they grow up by drinking dew on leaves and eating fruits on trees.

But it never says that they grow up by eating things that grow in the soil.

But Mordred couldn't let go of these potatoes.

"Roast it, fry it, boil it...anything is fine."

Mordred said quickly, using local materials. He took the potatoes and started a fire near the training ground.

The blazing flames burned the dry wood into black and red charcoal - and when the flames were completely burned out, Mordred threw the potatoes directly into the pile of charcoal. Then he covered the fire pit with soil. The simplest ingredients and the simplest cooking method.

The combination of the two produced the most...well, not very delicious.

But it's mainly for satisfying hunger.

Mordred dug the baked potatoes out of the pit, cut them with a knife, and put them on a plate.

Finally, a pinch of salt was used as a simple seasoning, and it was done.

"Come, eat it."

Mordred handed the plate of baked potatoes to Guinevere.

Guinevere frowned slightly, stretched out two fingers with a sad face, and gently pinched a piece of baked potato. After hesitating for a long time, she closed her eyes and tried to taste the taste of this baked potato.

In contrast, Vortigern's performance was much more straightforward than Guinevere.

She directly picked up a large piece of potato with her hand, and threw it into her mouth without caring about the burnt skin on it.

This is the way of eating for a"dragon"

""Well, it's not bad."

Guinevere tasted the potato, and her originally frowned eyebrows gradually relaxed.

She was really hungry.

Because of the quarrel with Gareth, she had been sulking since yesterday afternoon and had not eaten anything.

Although the two pieces of chocolate could provide her with some calories, they were not staple food after all and could not provide her with a real sense of fullness.

After eating one potato, Guinevere, who still felt unsatisfied, ate two potatoes in a row, and then heaved a sigh of relief:

""I'm full."

She sat on the grass, her body gradually relaxed, and she gently closed her eyes.

The things that happened last night made her physically and mentally exhausted.

But before that, her spirit had been tense, and she dared not slack off.

But now.

The heat from her abdomen made Guinevere forget her"panic" temporarily, and the subconscious feeling of"already in a safe area" made Guinevere gradually relax her guard.

A strong sleepiness suddenly hit her, and Guinevere fell asleep without knowing it.

"She slept soundly."

Vortigern glanced at the sleeping Guinevere with a look of disdain on his face.

"With her qualities, is she worthy of being a princess?"

"It's ridiculous."

Vortigern said sarcastically.

As a tyrant who had ruled the British Isles for ten years, she could see the value of these potatoes at a glance.

But Guinevere, the Princess of Camelot, could not see anything?

She really couldn't understand why the good nephew who had killed her personally would choose such a silly and innocent girl as his princess.

Mordred showed a bright smile on his face:

"She still has advantages."

"At least, she is beautiful and obedient."

"If it is used to decorate the facade or to cheer up the mood, it is perfect."

Mordred stretched out his hand and pinched Guinevere's collagen-filled face again and again.

Until Guinevere made a pig-like humming sound because of discomfort, he reluctantly withdrew his hand and gave up.

Vases also have their uses.

It was Altria's fault for not placing Guinevere, the vase, in the place where she should be placed.

This has nothing to do with Guinevere.

PS: Thank you for the monthly ticket support of [Dreams are always so many].