The festival had become a whirlwind of sensations—sizzling meats on open flames, the sweet tang of exotic fruits, the sound of laughter filling the air. Freya tried more dishes, each bite a burst of something unfamiliar yet delightful. Her hesitation slowly melted away as she indulged in the new flavors.
Rion remained by her side, silent and imposing, yet ever watchful. Every time she turned, he was there, ensuring that no one came too close. She was beginning to sense the quiet authority he carried—not just as a ruler, but as someone who commanded attention without needing to demand it.
As they approached another stall selling barbecue-style meats, Rion paid once again, exchanging a coin with the vendor. This time, however, he placed an extra coin in Freya’s hand. She looked down at it,
