Page 43 of The Moon's Daughter
As breakfast ended, the sisters planned their outing, their conversation filled with a lightness missing since the royal ball. For a few hours, they could escape the burdens of duty and politics and reconnect with the simplicity of their childhood.
Layna wore a lightweight navy tunic over her trousers, the breathable fabric ideal for the desert heat. At her waist, she fastened her sword. Soraya wore a vibrant orange tunic, as radiant as the fiery desert sun. She, too, strapped her sword to her side. Both sisters wore white turbans, ready to shield their faces from swirling sands.
Layna’s white mare, Qamar, stood quietly ready for the journey, awaiting her command, while Soraya’s steed, Sirocco, a spirited chestnut stallion, nickered impatiently, eager for the ride ahead.
Mounted on their horses, the sisters shared an excited glance. The air was warm on their skin as they led their horses through the busy streets, past the lively markets, until the city gradually gave way to the quiet outskirts, where the vast expanse of the desert unfolded before them in an endless sandy sea.
At the city’s edge, the guards recognized the princesses and offered respectful bows before quickly clearing the way through the checkpoint.
With subtle nudges, they urged their horses into a brisk gallop. The vast desert beckoned, an open canvas where they could shed the weight of royalty and taste the freedom beyond the palace.
Hooves kicked up clouds of sand as the horses effortlessly traversed the dunes. Layna felt a rush of exhilaration as Qamar responded to her cues, the mare’s pace quickening. The wind whipped through Layna’s hair, and she tilted her face to the sky, savoring the feeling of liberation, even if just for a moment.
Beside her, Soraya and Sirocco matched their pace, the stallion easily keeping up with Layna’s mare. Together, they crossed the desert, the endless dunes stretching out around them.
The ride was cathartic. The rhythm of her horse’s gallop freed her mind from the tangle of duty and desire. For these precious minutes, she was not a princess torn between love and obligation.
She was simply Layna, riding alongside her sister, embracing the beauty of her homeland.
As the horses slowed to a trot, Layna opened up to Soraya.
“We crossed a line,” she revealed, eyes focused on the horizon. “Zarian and I…it’s complicated. I feel so drawn to him, but so conflicted. I know I should uphold my responsibilities, but when I’m with him, I don’t remember anything else. I feel protected. It’s a relief from always having to be strong.”
“It’s okay to let yourself depend on someone, even as queen,” Soraya replied softly.
Layna sighed. “When I was in his arms, I felt precious.” Her gaze was distant, lost in the memory of their kiss. “With him, I can let down my guard and be myself. I don’t have to be the perfect princess.”
She paused, her brown eyes reflecting the desert sun. “But our duties bind us, Soraya. How can I think of my own happiness when Alzahra’s future rests on my shoulders? And with a war approaching?”
Soraya reached between their horses, taking Layna’s hand in a comforting grip. “Maybe it’s not about choosing between love and duty, but finding a way to balance both.”
Their conversation continued as they came upon a small oasis, a hidden gem amidst the dunes. It was a special place, one they often escaped to in their younger years. Modest in size, the oasis was a pocket of lush greenery, a secret haven that held many of their childhood memories.
The oasis was ringed by a small cluster of palm trees, their fronds whispering in the desert breeze. At its heart lay a tranquil pool, crystal clear, reflecting the azure sky above. Purple and yellow wildflowers dotted the greenery.
They dismounted, tying their horses to a tree, and stretched their legs.
“I know it’s been difficult, but I’m glad you’ve opened your heart again. After Nizam, I worried you might close yourself off completely,” Soraya said gently, looping her arm through her sister’s.
Layna exhaled slowly, eyes lingering on the horizon. “It wasn’t intentional. I tried to keep him at a distance, yet somehow, he found a way into my heart. Now, I can’t picture my life without him.”
Soraya smiled sympathetically. “Sometimes, the heart knows better than our minds. You can’t control who you fall for.” Then, the younger princess hesitated and gave Layna a sheepish smile. “Actually, I wasn’t entirely forthcoming about our picnic today.”
A few paces away, stepping into the clearing was Almeer.
Almeer’s features weren’t striking at first glance, but the more Layna looked at him, the more she saw his appeal. He stood slightly taller than her, with dark brown hair falling to his shoulders in loose waves. He was a slim man, the straight lines of his body accentuated by his typical Alzahran attire—a simple tunic and loose-fitting trousers. His skin was tanned, and his gray eyes, though darting nervously, held a genuine warmth.
Layna watched him closely as he hesitantly approached, his hands fidgeting at his sides.
“Your Majesty,” Almeer greeted. He reached out to shake her hand, then switched mid-motion and bowed deeply instead.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Almeer,” Layna welcomed with a wide smile. “Soraya speaks of you often. But please, call me Layna.”
They sat down, the soft breeze carrying the scent of desert wind around them. The picnic was simple—delicate sandwiches with roasted meats and crisp vegetables, along with savory pastries filled with spiced cheese and spinach. For dessert, there were buttery shortbread cookies dusted with sugar and a selection of ripe fruits, including dates, figs, and mirsham fruit.
Soraya led the conversation with her usual playful energy, teasing both Layna and Almeer about their various quirks—Layna’s competitiveness and Almeer’s picky eating—drawing laughter and groans in equal measure. In turn, Layna and Almeer joined forces, poking fun at Soraya’s own peculiarities.
Once Almeer seemed more comfortable, Layna donned the mantle of protective sister and asked about his family in Zephyria.