She just kept them to herself.
Haha, actually, it's not surprising.
As the Queen of the pure-blood Elves, probably only the Elven Sage Aida Aemin could be considered her equal in status and converse with her on the same level within the entire Elven race.
However, that one is an ancient relic who has lived for tens of thousands of years and has long seen through human nature. Expecting her to chat about gossip like a best friend? That would certainly be a pipe dream.
Perhaps that one would even, like a true sage, constantly advise Francesca on how to become a qualified queen, telling her to prioritize the bigger picture, and so on, endlessly nagging.
"Come, try the skewers I grilled. Witcher-brand grilled meat, absolutely delicious."
Time quickly came to evening. Guilliman personally cooked grilled meat, and in his storage space, he still had red wine he had "borrowed" from Princess Adda.
Every time he entered Vizima Palace, the royal wine cabinet would be missing a batch of red wine.
Of course, how can it be considered stealing when we players take things? It's just taking them conveniently.
Francesca probably rarely dined in such a simple environment.
Her face was flushed, seemingly a little excited, but her body appeared weak due to the curse. Her appearance as a sickly Elven beauty made her look pitiable.
Perhaps because the Elven race has always been a beautiful race in people's fantasies, Guilliman also had a certain fondness for them.
He picked up a glass of red wine and drank it, admiring the Elven Queen so close to him, feeling a sense of emotion.
"Francesca, is the Elven race very short on money right now?"
As a Witcher with some assets and a good understanding of trade, Guilliman knew that if money was only kept in a vault, it was just a pile of precious metal. Only when money circulated was it truly money.
Coincidentally, whether it was the construction of the Witcher Academy, the development of Black Tern Island, or the future development of Velen, he needed a large number of hands.
In contrast, the Elven race currently had many hands but lacked resources.
This was not because the Elves weren't working hard enough.
It was just that, even if they wanted to sell their labor, they had no one trustworthy to work for. After all, given the current racial atmosphere, working for human nobles meant they could be killed as Scoia'tael at any time, their property seized, losing both their lives and their wealth.
Hearing him bring up this issue, Francesca probably remembered the 10,000 Orens debt again, and an expression of sadness and embarrassment appeared on her face.
She picked up a glass of red wine, took a small sip, and then said softly:
"I'm sorry, Guilliman, I really am short on money lately."
"Since last year, we have successively rescued tens of thousands of our kinsmen from the Northern Kingdoms."
"Most of them were persecuted by humans, homeless, penniless, or, due to the Scoia'tael, were expelled from cities and villages, becoming displaced persons."
"Although the Valley of Flowers can take them in, ensuring their livelihood requires a large sum of money."
"And you know, human nations are unwilling to sell large quantities of supplies to us. If we want to buy daily necessities, we have to pay several times the price."
"Even I cannot afford such high expenses."
Guilliman nodded. This was pretty much as he had expected.
One could only say that the path the Elven race set for themselves was wrong from the start.
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