Page 97 of The Moon's Daughter

The suggestion hung ominously in the air.

Layna’s breath hitched, dread gripping her at the thought of being helpless once more. The idea of revisiting such vulnerability, bound and exposed, sent a chilling wave through her veins.

Her fears, however, were unfounded.

Zarian quickly stepped in front of her, his eyes lethal with cold resolve. “You will not subject her to that again,” he growled. “Find another method for your evaluations.” He stood unyielding, a physical shield against any threat.

Zanjeel regarded him with disapproval. “Prince Zarian,” he reprimanded sternly, “we are quite disappointed with your behavior. Your defiance raises questions about your loyalty. We begin to suspect you serveanotherinstead of our order.” His sharp gaze flicked to Layna before boring again into Zarian.

The prince did not respond. Instead, he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes aflame with silent threat.

Incensed, Zanjeel’s eyes darted angrily to King Tahriq, seeking an intervention, a command to compel the prince to step aside.

But Tahriq remained silent, gaze fixed firmly on the terrace floor. The elders awaited his order, but none came. Tahriq’s scowl deepened, yet he offered no reprimand or support to either side.

The elders found themselves in a deadlock. They were painfully aware that Zarian could strike down all seven of them before they drew their next breath.

Their authority met its match in a man fiercely guarding the woman he loved.

And so, the elders were forced to continue without restraining Layna. They subjected her to more tests across the terrace. At one point, they placed the fragmented shards of the orb in her hands, urging her to meditate. Yet, their efforts were fruitless, and the shattered pieces remained inert in her grasp.

Next, they burned incense, its thick smoke swirling around Layna. The pungent aroma was overpowering, eliciting nothing but a fit of coughing—a decidedly human reaction.

Their examination stretched into the depths of the night, under the silent watch of the moon. The elders hoped the moon’s presence might coax the Daughter’s powers to reveal themselves.

They even ventured to the hidden library, sifting through texts and reciting ancient chants in forgotten tongues over her. Layna listened to the cadence of the unfamiliar words, but the rituals bore no fruit.

No sign of the Daughter’s abilities surfaced.

The extraordinary had given way to the ordinary, leaving the elders baffled, and Zarian barely restraining himself at every turn.

After nearly two full days of exhaustive trials, there were still no signs of the powers that had once surged through the princess.

The elders convened, murmuring among themselves in hushed deliberation.

They finally turned to Layna and Zarian, their expressions solemn. “It appears,” Zanjeel began, “that the power which once resided within the princess has departed. She was destined to wield such extraordinary strength for but a single day.”

Layna exhaled deeply, the tension knotting her shoulders slowly unfurling. Beside her, Zarian’s hand found hers, his grip firm, their fingers intertwining in a silent exchange of relief.

As the elders prepared to depart, King Tahriq sought a moment alone with his son in the courtyard.

Tahriq opened and closed his mouth several times, struggling to find the words to bridge the insurmountable gap between them.

Yet, the apology that was needed remained stubbornly unspoken.

“It seems your heart is here,” Tahriq finally said, eyes flicking to Layna who stood a few paces away by the fountain.

“It is.” Zarian crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze stoic as he regarded his father.

Tahriq chose his next words with care. “Then in your current state, you are of no use to the Medjai. You would be a liability on missions. I command you to remain here and guard our interests in Alzahra,” he decreed, his eyes glistening in the sunlight.

Zarian studied his father. Though gratitude flickered briefly in his heart, it was overshadowed by the pain of Tahriq’s secrets.

The chasm between them was not so easily bridged.

With a small, almost imperceptible nod, Zarian accepted his new charge. Without another word, he turned on his heel, leaving his father standing alone.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

---