Anila's POV

The sun had set, and a gentle evening breeze carried the faint scent of wild ginger flowers in the air. It was almost November, and only the southern regions hosted such blossoms. I appreciated their pure and elegant fragrance, but it couldn't mask the bitterness of the medicinal herbs.

Garrett downed five bowls of herbal soup without a hint of discomfort, let alone indulging in sweets. I stood nearby, the mere smell making me cringe. I couldn't bring myself to taste it.

"Wouldn't you like some?" I offered the last yellow fruit candy to Garrett.

He shook his head. I sensed he treated this bitterness as a form...