Page 60 of The Moon's Daughter
It was Layna.
“May I come in?” she whispered urgently.
Zarian stepped aside, quickly scanning the corridor before quietly closing the door behind her.
Inside, Layna anxiously paced the room, wringing her hands together. “May I sit?” she finally asked, gesturing toward his bed.
“Of course,” he replied, watching her closely as she sat down. She had not spoken to him in weeks. What brought her to his chambers at this late hour?
As she settled onto his bed, Zarian lost control of his thoughts. He should have thrown himself at her feet, begging once more for her forgiveness, but the sight of her here, in his private space, was intoxicating, igniting something primal within him.
He yearned to bridge the gap between them, to lay her back gently on his bed and express his feelings in a way words never could. He imagined capturing her lips with his, feeling the softness of her body pressed against his own, losing themselves in a moment of passion.
But his daydream was abruptly cut short as Layna cleared her throat, tethering him back to reality. Guilt washed over him for letting his mind wander, especially when she was so clearly distressed.
“What happened?” he asked.
“It’s Soraya,” Layna said, her voice strained. “She’s in a secret relationship with someone—a Zephyrian diplomat. The palace guards suspect him of being a spy and arrested him this morning.”
“I see,” Zarian said slowly. “That’s quite the predicament.”
“I can’t intervene directly,” she continued. “It would cause a scandal, perhaps political uproar. Jorah may even retaliate against Almeer’s family. I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
“I’m glad you came to me,” Zarian said gently. He cautiously added, “Do you think Almeer might actually be a spy?”
“The thought crossed my mind. But after meeting him…I don’t think so. He seems genuinely in love with Soraya.”
Zarian considered her words. “Let me think about how to handle this. We can’t compromise the palace’s security or cause unnecessary panic.”
Layna nodded, a tentative smile gracing her lips. “Thank you, Zarian.”
In the dead of night, Zarian slipped silently through the palace corridors toward the dungeon. He wore a dark, close-fitting tunic and trousers, blending seamlessly with the shadows.
A few corridors away, he carefully positioned a small sack filled with marbles. Hidden in an alcove, he waited for the right moment, then tossed a stone to knock over the sack. The marbles scattered loudly across the stone floor, rolling in every direction.
The guards, startled by the sudden clatter, left their posts to investigate the commotion.
Zarian seized the opportunity.
He found a disheveled and weary Almeer in a dimly lit cell. The young nobleman looked up in surprise as Zarian approached.
“Don’t panic. I’m a friend of Soraya’s,” Zarian whispered, observing Almeer’s tense shoulders and fearful gaze.
Almeer’s eyes widened, a spark of hope flickering within them. Zarian quickly set to work on the lock, his skilled fingers manipulating the pins with a long needle. With a soft click, the lock yielded, and the cell door swung open.
Quietly, they crept out of the dungeon, Zarian leading Almeer through a labyrinth of corridors. They eventually reached a side entrance that emerged into a secluded part of the gardens, where the darkness of night offered cover.
Zarian spotted Jamil, Layna, and Soraya waiting in the shadows, anxiety and apprehension written on their faces. As Zarian and Almeer approached, Soraya rushed forward and embraced Almeer tightly.
With stiff shoulders, Zarian took measured steps toward Jamil. His friend’s boyishly handsome face was a picture of fury—brows drawn together tightly, lips pressed into a thin, hard line, jaw firmly clenched. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his narrowed eyes fixed a cold, penetrating glare on Zarian.
Layna watched the two Medjai from a distance. Jamil stood stiffly. His angrily whispered words carried an edge of accusation, a tension that clashed with Zarian’s calm demeanor. He repeatedly jabbed a finger into Zarian’s chest, growing more forceful with each word.
Zarian met Jamil’s anger with a measured calmness. He reached out slowly, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Jamil paused, his expression softening slightly, and after a deep breath, he gave a reluctant nod.
Turning away from Jamil with one final word, Zarian approached Layna.
“We don’t have much time before the guards change shifts. Jamil will escort Almeer to the Oasis,” he told her, his voice low and deep in the night. “The Medjai will protect him and ensure he isn’t a spy. It’s the safest place for him right now, far from both Alzahra and Zephyria.”