Page 36 of The Moon's Daughter
Layna was pale, dread coiling in her belly. “Tinga, did some—”
The handmaid abruptly cut her off before Layna could voice her fear. “You said ‘It’s not like that’ with Prince Zarian. Then, tell me, what is it like?” She resumed massaging Layna’s scalp, rubbing her fingers in tight circles.
Eyeing her closely in the mirror, Layna hesitated. “I like him,” she finally admitted quietly. “But he isn’t a powerful match for Alzahra. And he has his own path. I can’t be with him.”
“Hmm,” Tinga mused, grabbing a wide brush and dragging it through Layna’s long waves. “Then, Princess, you are playing with fire. You will get hurt.”
Layna looked down at her lap, silent in her sadness. Tinga tugged at her hair, forcing Layna to meet her sharp eyes in the mirror.
“Or perhaps that fire will burn through the ropes that bind you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
In the vast desert, three figures darted among the dunes, their laughter carrying on the wind. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows that twisted and merged with the sand, creating a playground of illusion. They were engaged in a playful game, a test of stealth and strategy.
The youngest, a boy with fire in his heart, moved across the sand with silent steps. He had never won, always outmaneuvered by his older companions who seemed to blend with the desert itself, vanishing into thin air only to reappear when victory was theirs.
But today felt different. Today, he was close, so close to claiming a victory that would prove his worth.
Just as he was about to close in on his target, a servant’s voice shattered the silence.
“Young Master! Your father wishes to see you immediately,” the man called, his voice echoing across the sands.
The elder brother and their companion emerged from their hiding place, far from where the youngest stood. They did not see him. As they walked toward the servant, a large black dog bounded up to his brother, placing its paws on his shoulders in a display of affection reserved only for him. “Easy, Sultan!” The boy buried his hands in the dog’s fur, laughing as he enthusiastically licked his face.
Hidden within the dunes, the youngest watched, a feeling of numbness creeping through his limbs. He chose not to follow them back to the confines of the palace.
Instead, he remained in the desert, letting time slip through his fingers as stars claimed the sky. In the solitude of the sands, with only the desert as his witness, he was invisible and alone.
Hours passed before anyone came to look for him.
In the far recesses of the palace library, Zarian found Soraya absorbed in a tome on ancient irrigation methods. Tall shelves lined the walls, brimming with books, their spines a riot of colors and textures. Streams of golden sunlight pooled on the richly patterned rugs through large, arched windows.
Soraya looked up, her eyes brightening. “Zarian! It’s always a pleasure. Layna, however, is elsewhere at the moment.” She gave him a playful smile, marking her page and setting the book aside.
“I appreciate that, Soraya, but actually, I came to speak with you.” Zarian sat down across from her at the table. “How are your plants? And the stores for the war efforts, are they sufficient?”
Soraya beamed. “The plants are thriving, thank you! The new irrigation techniques are showing promising results.” Before Zarian could respond, Soraya added, “How are the training sessions with my sister? Has she been keeping up with your strict regimen?”
Zarian’s expression softened. “She’s progressed very well over the last few weeks. She is very dedicated.”
Soraya smiled knowingly. “It sounds like you’re quite impressed with her,” she teased, her smile widening at Zarian’s brief, unguarded look of affection.
“She is exceptional,” he admitted with a small smile.
A comfortable silence fell, broken only by the soft rustling of pages and Zarian drumming his fingers on the table.
Soraya broke the silence. “I always enjoy our conversations, but you seem to have something else on your mind.”
Zarian hesitated before nodding. “You’re quite perceptive. I wanted to know, well…what can you tell me about your sister and Nizam?”
Soraya’s eyes widened. “Layna mentioned him to you?”
“No,” Zarian confessed, “His name came up a few weeks ago in a council meeting. Layna’s reaction was…telling. I sensed a history between them. I can’t seem to get it off my mind.” His gaze was earnest and open as he braced his arms on the table and leaned forward.
Soraya smirked. “Was herreactiontelling or wereyouobsessively watching her every move despite your vows of professionalism?”
Zarian chuckled and dramatically clutched his chest. “Please, Soraya, have mercy on me. Don’t leave me in the dark.”