“Zion, look!” Arwen exclaimed, pointing toward a small stall by the cobblestone road. “That’s the chestnut seller I used to visit!”
Zion turned, smiling. “Do you want to taste them again?”
“Can I?” Her voice was filled with excitement, like a child rediscovering a piece of her childhood.
“Of course, my Luna can buy anything she wants today,” Zion replied softly.
They stopped. The damp Edinburgh afternoon carried the sweet aroma of roasted chestnuts mixed with the earthy scent of rain.
Arwen gazed at the small fire glowing inside the metal furnace, then received a warm paper bag of chestnuts from the old vendor, who smiled kindly.
“Thank you,” she said politely before turning to Zion, who was watching her with a look full of affection.
“What?” Arwen chuckled, her cheeks slightly flus
