North Slope Mine, the backyard of the firing room.
Nightingale picked up the glass on the table and raised it over her head. The crystal clear glass shone under the light, without any impurities.
She knew that this glass was called a crystal glass, the firing process and formula had always been the top secret information of the Royal Alchemy Workshop. The value of the goblet in her hand was about the same as a Golden Dragon. Crystal glassware with exquisite silver tableware had always been a favorite of the great nobles and wealthy merchants to show off their wealth.
But now, these crystal containers brought from the palace would soon be turned into raw materials for smelting.
"Your Highness, you're not burning a glass, you're burning a Golden Dragon." Nightingale exclaimed.
"I don't have time to study how to burn the sand into colorless glass, so I have to make do with this method." Roland threw a beautifully shaped crystal pot into the furnace made of Anna's black fire – Nightingale still remembered that the Prince had used it to fill ale, during the afternoon tea in the castle garden and during the celebration banquet of the Months of Demons, she could not help but feel a burst of pity.
Under a stable high temperature, the pot quickly softened, and then turned into a sticky paste.
"Using sand … to burn glass?" Anna asked, "Are they the same substance?"
"Well, the main components are similar, but the sand contains a lot of impurities, so the burnt glass is mostly brown and green, which does not meet the requirements."
"So, the glass is pure sand?"
Roland smiled, "You can think of it that way. When I write this part of the knowledge in a book, you will understand how those small balls form the substance. "
"Anyway, I won't understand …" Nightingale curled her lips. Besides, the different color of the glass does not affect the function of the container. Anyway, you are not using it as a cup, why do you have to use a transparent crystal cup? She went to Anna's side and looked at the glassware that had been recast.
Although they still looked colorless and transparent, their appearance was far different from the previous crystal cups.
Some looked like a tube, with a round bottom, thin and long. Some were like bottles, with the bottom as big as a kettle, and the top was only as thick as a thumb.
The strangest thing was a tube that was bent into the shape of a horseshoe. There was no seal on either side, so it couldn't even be used as a container.
"What are you planning to do with these crystal glassware?" Nightingale couldn't help but ask.
"It's not for me, it's for the future alchemists of Border Town to use," Roland used a glass rod to stir the mucus in the black fire. "They can use these vessels to extract some acids and alkali, and produce the chemicals needed for my new weapons."
Sour? Alkali? Chemicals? Nightingale blinked her eyes and found that she couldn't understand what His Royal Highness was saying at all. This kind of feeling made her a little depressed. But if she asked them one by one, it would be too ignorant. She didn't want to expose this side of her in front of Anna, so she could only focus on the only nouns that she could understand.
"How could there be an alchemist in this town? Even Longsong Stronghold doesn't have an alchemy workshop. You can only find an alchemist in Redwater City, and I heard that their salary is higher than that of a lord's minister. It's very difficult to recruit them by relying on the Golden Dragon. "
"You really know a lot," Roland responded with a smile. "That's right. The people I sent are already on their way to Redwater City, and they'll get the news in about two weeks. But I'm not using the Golden Dragon to recruit them, but some alchemy secrets. As for whether I can recruit them or not, I'm not sure, but I have to try. "
The first half of His Royal Highness's praise immediately dispelled Nightingale's depression. She returned to the center of the courtyard with satisfaction, picked up a pastry placed on the round table, and stuffed it into her mouth.
Since Roland changed the main experimental site from the castle's backyard to the firing room in North Slope Mountain, the afternoon tea had also been moved here.
On the round table were the palace snacks that His Royal Highness had asked the chef to make.
For example, this pastry called steamed bun. The outer skin was made of wheat flour, and she didn't know how it was processed, but it was very soft. It was also wrapped with a ball of minced meat, which contained juice … It wasn't like bacon, which was hard and difficult to swallow. As long as she bit down, the minced meat would blend with the gravy.
Nightingale put her fingers into her mouth and sucked them one by one, then leaned back on the recliner, feeling a little sleepy.
It seemed that she was getting lazier and lazier recently?
The afternoon sun shone on her body, and the warmth slowly surrounded her like water. The rustling of the leaves in the spring wind made her feel very peaceful. She took off her shoes, curled up her legs, and lay on her side.
From this point of view, she could see the side door leading to the gunpowder production room in the backyard. There was also a gauze curtain hanging over the door, which was probably used by His Royal Highness to prevent her from sneaking in. Thinking of this, Nightingale felt a little funny. Whether it was the wall of the courtyard or the outer wall of the production room, for her, they were all flat ground that she could freely walk through. She had also entered this mysterious room, and when His Royal Highness explained the production method, she quietly listened to him, but she didn't take away the finished gunpowder.
But the other side thought that he had done it secretly, and didn't know that he was the one who was kept in the dark.
Nightingale moved her head and looked at Anna.
Anna was holding a freshly fired flat-bottomed cup, and was talking with His Royal Highness, looking very serious and focused.
For this talented woman who came from a common family, Nightingale's heart was full of admiration.
The reason why the sisters of the Witch Cooperation Association were able to get rid of the fate of being homeless and miserable, and free from the torture of the magic bite, was to a large extent because of Anna – if she hadn't changed the Prince's view of witches, all the subsequent twists wouldn't have happened.
If His Royal Highness really wanted to marry a witch as his wife, then Anna was almost the only candidate she could think of.
Although there was a trace of expectation in her heart, Nightingale chose to bury it deep in the bottom of her heart. Most of the time, just staying by His Royal Highness' side made her very satisfied.
She closed her eyes, and her mind couldn't help but come up with a picture.
Roland was enthroned in the palace hall, wearing a golden crown and holding a jeweled scepter, walking towards the castle balcony, accepting the admiration and cheers of the people.
At his side, a woman wearing a white satin dress walked hand in hand, it was Anna. Her head was also wearing a glittering golden crown, covered with a veil, smiling and waving to the people.
Lightning hovered in the air, sprinkling bright red rose petals, and in the distance, a melodious bell came from the King's City Clock Tower.
She and her other sisters stood on the side, applauding and sending their blessings.
An increasingly strong feeling of sleepiness spread throughout her body, and her consciousness gradually became hazy.
Roland turned around, opened the woman's veil, and lowered his head to kiss her lips.
The final scene became very blurred, and as the veil fell, Nightingale vaguely saw that the woman with closed eyes … was herself.
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