Page 6 of The Moon's Daughter
The princess released arrow after arrow, each finding its mark with precision. The sound of footsteps broke her concentration, and she turned to see Nizam approaching.
“You never cease to amaze me, Layna,” he marveled, handing her a skein of water. She gratefully accepted, gulping down the cool liquid.
“You’ve seen nothing yet. Archery is just one of many skills we pride ourselves on in Alzahra.”
Nizam stepped closer, a playful gleam in his eye. “I’ve been learning a new form recently. May I show you?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes, of course.” Layna handed him the bow and stepped aside.
However, instead of demonstrating himself, Nizam gently pulled Layna back by the fabric of her tunic and positioned himself behind her. “It’ll be easier if I guide you through it,” he murmured in her ear, sending a cascade of shivers down her spine.
Before Layna could respond, his arms encircled her, his hands guiding hers to the correct position on the bow. The warmth of his body seeped through her training clothes, enveloping her in a cocoon of heat.
Layna’s heart raced, her focus scattered by their sudden closeness. His scent surrounded her—a subtle blend of citrus and earth. His breath brushed her ear as he explained the stance, his words a soft whisper amidst the pounding of her heart.
Despite her attempts to focus, Layna was keenly aware of every point of contact between them—the firmness of his chest against her back, the gentle pressure of his hands guiding hers, the shared warmth radiating between them.
She loosed the arrow, but it veered wildly off target and bounced off a nearby stand of weights. A nervous chuckle escaped her as they stepped apart. Nizam frowned slightly at where the arrow had landed.
The moment was fleeting, yet as they separated, Layna struggled to compose herself. “Thank you for showing me. I’ll have to practice a bit more,” she said with a smile, her heart still fluttering. “Are your sisters also interested in archery and sword fighting?”
Nizam didn’t respond immediately. “Yes, they are,” he finally said. “But it’s been a challenging journey. Baysaht has only recently begun to adopt a more progressive stance on women participating in such activities. It took time, but my father has finally come around.” He sighed deeply. “We still need loads more progress. Having a strong queen like you would move mountains.”
Layna placed her bow aside and moved to a nearby bench, its wooden frame warm from the afternoon sun. Nizam followed, sitting close beside her.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his green eyes appraising her with concern.
“Nizam,” Layna began slowly, “Baysaht has never had a queen as its ruler. The crown only passes through the male line. And your mother, though she is your father’s queen, isn’t involved in the kingdom’s management.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “ButIwill rule Alzahra one day, just as you will rule Baysaht. How will we manage ruling two kingdoms? And will the people of Baysaht accept me?”
“I’m glad you brought this up,” he said, meeting her gaze, “and I understand your concerns. But I believe leadership must transcend traditions. Forging new paths is critical. Otherwise, Baysaht will remain stuck in the past.” He reached out, lightly covering her hand. “Baysaht may have never had a queen with true power, but I think it’s well past time for new traditions to take root.”
His gaze drifted to the horizon. “In practice, I imagine we’ll divide our time between Baysaht and Alzahra. Of course, I would never interfere in your sovereign decisions over your kingdom. I hope, though, you might rely on me for counsel, as I would rely on you.” He leaned back, casually draping his arm over the bench, inching closer to Layna. “We’d need strong councils in both kingdoms to manage affairs in our absence. But with careful planning and communication, I see no reason why we can’t make it work.”
His words painted a picture of a partnership of equals. “Imagine the message we’d send to our people and the world,” Nizam added. “A united front, blending the strengths of both cultures, leading by example. Honestly, I can’t picture anyone else as my queen. Only you, Layna.”
Layna was at a loss for words. She could only smile at him, her full lips quivering slightly, her eyes suddenly damp. Nizam pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. They gazed out at the horizon together, their future laid out before them.
The days rushed by despite Layna’s wish for time to slow down. On the eve of Nizam’s return to Baysaht, a creeping melancholy took hold of her heart. Their time together had been perfect. There was an unexpected joy in finding someone who understood her in ways she hadn’t dared imagine.
She had always known her duty as future queen meant making a strategic match, but finding a true companion seemed like a distant dream. Her connection with Nizam stirred hopes she had never allowed herself to nurture.
Guided by the moon’s soft light, Layna walked to the palace gardens, mindful of any watching eyes.
Nizam had asked her to meet him there.
The cool, fragrant air, perfumed with the scent of jasmine and roses, wove a sweet aroma into a night Layna wished would last forever. She followed the winding paths, humming with the gentle buzz of insects, to a secluded gazebo.
As she approached, Layna saw Nizam waiting. The moonlight cast a soft glow around him, highlighting the green in his eyes and making them sparkle like emeralds. He looked every bit the prince in his elegant white tunic.
He closed the distance between them, his movements graceful and deliberate. As he took her hands in his, Layna felt her heart leap, each beat echoing in her ears.
“Layna,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her, “I wish I had the words to express my heart. I know it’s only been a week, but somehow, it feels like my soul knows yours.” Gently, he guided her to sit beside him in the gazebo.
“Nizam,” she whispered, moonlight illuminating her face, “I’m embarrassed to admit that you have thoroughly won me over, perhaps from the very first night you arrived.” Nizam smiled at her, eyes warming at her confession.
She turned to face him, curiosity coloring her tone. “I’ve been wondering about something. How did you know my favorite color was green?” Her eyes searched his for the story behind his thoughtful gesture.
Nizam’s expression softened, his eyes misting with a distant look. A small, wistful smile tugged at his lips. “I saw you years ago at the Grand Summit of Monarchs. Your first Summit, I think. I was only twenty-three. You were maybe seventeen or eighteen. On the first day, you wore a dark green abaya that sparkled with jewels in the sunlight. The next day, it was a simple moss-colored gown. And on the final day, you looked like a goddess in a white abaya, but even then, your belt was encrusted with emeralds.”