Page 2 of The Moon's Daughter

Layna, however, had always adhered to the carefully choreographed steps laid out for her since birth, her life a series of predetermined motions within the royal dance of duty. It was exhausting, but it was the role she had been born to play.

Still, she admired Soraya’s independence, even if it meant facing the dinner alone.

As they reached the palace, the sisters parted with a quick goodbye, and Layna continued to her chambers to prepare. Inside, her handmaid, Tinga, dressed her in an intricate emerald gown with sheer, billowing sleeves that cuffed delicately at her wrists. Teasing and fussing with her hair, Tinga styled it into a loose braid draped over Layna’s shoulder, adorning it with pins and jewels that sparkled in the torchlight.

Tinga, a middle-aged woman with sharp brown eyes and a tight bun, frowned at a scratch on Layna’s jaw as she dusted it with powder. “Another scrape,” she muttered, clicking her tongue. “Are you a princess or a bandit?”

The princess responded with a sheepish smile, accustomed to Tinga’s motherly fussing. “Have you learned anything else about Prince Nizam?” Layna asked while Tinga painstakingly lined her eyes with kohl.

The handmaid clicked her tongue again. “Stay still.” Layna waited as Tinga tinted her lips and cheeks with rouge before finally meeting Layna’s gaze in the mirror. “Nothing new. Just that he seems different and open-minded. And handsome. I already told you.”

Layna reflected on the parade of suitors she’d encountered, none of whom had sparked any real interest. They had ranged from, at best, dreadfully boring, to painfully misogynistic at worst.

Yet, as she stared into the mirror, adjusting the delicate fabric of her gown, she hoped tonight might be different. Maybe, just maybe, Prince Nizam would prove more than yet another name in a long list of suitors.

There was an inexplicable shift in the atmosphere tonight, distinct from the countless other dinners she had endured. Each of those evenings had been orchestrated by her father’s council, a tedious parade of suitors—princes, generals, and newly minted kings—each presented as part of a calculated effort to secure a strategic alliance for Alzahra.

But tonight promised something different, something she couldn’t quite place. Rumors preceded Prince Nizam’s arrival, painting him as a prince not just of royal blood, but of charm and intelligence, a man who defied typical royal conventions.

And, if the whispers among the servants held any truth, he was remarkably handsome. Would he live up to his reputation?

Princess Layna descended the grand staircase and entered the dining hall. Ornate chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, casting a golden light over the throng of guests. The long dining tables were made of imported polished mahogany and adorned with fine linens. Crystal vases overflowed with vibrant flowers from the palace gardens—jasmine, roses, and lilies. The table settings gleamed under the chandeliers, with meticulously polished silverware placed next to fine porcelain plates.

The dining hall resonated with lively conversation, punctuated by the melodious clinking of silverware. However, as Layna moved through the crowd, she sensed an undercurrent of worry beneath the surface cheer. Whispers and fleeting glances hinted at concerns, likely fueled by rumors of growing tensions with Zephyria, a powerful neighboring kingdom that had long cast envious eyes toward Alzahra.

Zephyria had always been a silent rival, their interactions marked by concealed motives and diplomatic maneuvering. And since King Jorah ascended the throne thirty odd years ago, relations had deteriorated even further. Their shared history was a complex dance of unspoken threats and strategic positioning. However, until recently, Zephyria had refrained from overt aggression, but now, the fragile peace seemed on the verge of unraveling, threatening to plunge the kingdom into chaos.

Her parents, King Khahleel and Queen Hadiyah, presided over the festivities with regal poise. As she made her way to the royal table, Layna momentarily brushed aside her concerns and chose to immerse herself in the evening’s celebrations. The anticipation of meeting Prince Nizam quickened her pulse, drawing her thoughts away from the kingdom’s troubles. For now, she embraced the excitement of the evening, letting herself be swept up in the prospect of meeting the much-talked-about prince.

Layna quickly climbed the stairs onto the raised dais and joined her parents at the royal table. A hushed excitement swept through the hall, and all eyes turned to the entrance. Moments later, the doors swung open, heralding the arrival of Prince Nizam. Flanked by his court, the prince entered with a confident grace that commanded the room.

He stood tall and fair, with sandy blond hair neatly parted and slicked to the side, attractively framing his striking features. His bright green eyes surveyed the hall until they landed on the royal family. Dressed in a finely embroidered cream-colored tunic that highlighted his broad shoulders and trim build, he strode forward.

Layna felt a flutter of attraction as their eyes met. Tinga’s information had been correct.

He was indeedquitehandsome.

As he approached the dais, Prince Nizam bowed deeply, his voice resonating through the hall as he expressed his gratitude for Alzahra’s hospitality. Turning to Layna, he offered a respectful nod, their eyes briefly locking again.

The prince gestured grandly toward the entrance. A flock of servants entered carrying several wooden trunks. The hall fell silent as they carefully placed the offerings before the royal family.

“Esteemed King Khahleel, I bring gifts from Baysaht in honor of Princess Layna,” Nizam announced, gesturing toward the display.

The first trunk was opened to reveal fabrics in every imaginable shade of green, from the palest mint to the deepest forest green. Luxurious silks and velvets spilled out, catching the light and drawing gasps from the assembled guests.

Another trunk contained an array of jewelry—necklaces, bracelets, rings, and anklets, each more exquisite than the last, all featuring green stones ranging from jade to peridot to emeralds, winking under the chandeliers’ bright light. A third trunk held an assortment of perfumes and oud, the dark green bottles shimmering like rare jewels.

Finally, a smaller chest contained different types of fruit, their green hues vibrant against the dark wood. Apples and pears from Minhypas, renowned for its bountiful gardens, and grapes from Sendouk’s famed vineyards, known across the continent for their exquisite flavor. Prince Nizam had gone to great lengths, coordinating with distant kingdoms, to secure such prized produce for the princess.

Layna’s eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she took in the extravagant gifts, each reflecting a level of detail that left her speechless. The thoughtfulness, more so than the material value of the gifts, touched her heart.

“I was informed of the princess’s fondness for this color,” Nizam admitted, addressing Layna with a sheepish, yet charming, smile.

Her heart warmed, and she found herself smiling back. “You are indeed well informed. Thank you, these gifts are beyond generous.”

Her father, usually stern and reserved in formal settings, nodded in approval. “Your gifts are received with great appreciation, Prince Nizam. They reflect the generosity of Baysaht.”

As the servants carefully repacked the trunks, the hall buzzed with whispers and admiring glances toward the prince. Layna felt respect blooming in her chest for the suitor who had gone to such lengths to honor her in front of her people.

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