Maya's POV
The final evening of our stay in Solivian arrived with the grand finale of the Harvest Festival. We had been wandering through the celebration for hours, sampling delicacies from vendor booths, sipping regional wines, and admiring artisanal goods. The festivities were more vibrant than our first night, with street musicians performing at every turn and couples swaying to the rhythm on ancient stone pathways.
Sebastian appeared completely in his element here, more carefree than I had witnessed during our time in Aethelgard. He conversed effortlessly in the local dialect with residents who had watched him grow up, presenting me with a genuine warmth that felt natural rather than performed. To these people, we were nothing more than newlyweds enjoying a romantic evening in their charming village.
"You must sample this," he insisted, offering me a delicate glass filled with amber liquid. "Artisanal limoncello. Signora Gambino guards this recipe like a family treasure."
