They stopped at a food stall run by a heavyset man with a thick beard and an apron stained in colours that probably weren't all from cooking. He offered them two small bowls of something he called "Mood Broth."
Aegon took a sip. It tasted like warm honey and cinnamon, which confused him because he could clearly see it was a savoury soup with vegetables floating in it.
'Warm honey and cinnamon,' he thought. 'What does that correspond to? Comfort? Contentment?'
He glanced at Elara. "What does yours taste like?"
She paused mid-sip, her expression shifting through several stages of confusion. "Strawberries," she said slowly. "And something floral. Like jasmine."
The merchant laughed hearing that. "The broth reflects the heart, not the tongue. Whatever you taste is what you feel most strongly right now."
Elara's ears went red again.
