Page 9 of The Moon's Daughter

With each passing day, her resolve grew stronger. She found release in sword fighting. The training grounds became her sanctuary, where she could cast off the mantle of royalty and be her true self. Under the swordmaster’s guidance, she honed her skills, each session pushing her limits.

But it was during the night, under the moon’s glow, when Layna truly found her strength. She preferred these solitary training sessions, where the silvery light seemed to imbue her with sharper focus and greater stamina. The moon’s presence somehow made her feel powerful. In these moments, her sword strokes felt more fluid, her movements more graceful, as if she were part of the night itself.

Her sparring sessions with left-handed Soraya, once challenging, now saw Layna emerging as the clear victor. Even when she managed to persuade some of the palace guards to train with her, there was a noticeable difference in her prowess.

As the months passed, and the illusion of love with Prince Nizam faded into distant memory, Layna emerged stronger and more grounded in her identity. Her path was not about finding love or approval from a suitor.

She was the future queen, and she needed to prepare for her destiny.

One evening, under the moon’s watchful gaze, Layna practiced her swordplay alone on the training grounds. Eyes blazing, she repeatedly struck the wooden practice dummy. She circled her motionless opponent, her sword trailing in the sand. Catching her breath, she again furiously attacked the wooden figure with renewed energy.

“I must say, one would be wise to never cross you,” a deep voice drawled from behind her. Panting, Layna paused mid-step and spun around, her eyes locking onto an unfamiliar man before her.

He stood tall, his broad shoulders pulled back in confidence. Clad in simple attire—a plain black tunic and loose-fitting trousers—he melded with the night. A large sword hung casually at his hip. His tunic stretched taut over his muscled chest and biceps, the fabric practically straining to contain his strength.

This intruder was positively lethal. Intense hazel eyes pierced through her, unsettling in their directness. The breeze ruffled his unruly dark hair, and the stubble shadowing his jawline gave him a raw, masculine edge.

For a moment, Layna found herself taken aback, her composure wavering under his scrutiny. She felt an inexplicable vulnerability, as though he could see past her royal façade to the woman hidden beneath.

Yet, as quickly as it came, the feeling was replaced by a surge of annoyance. Who was this stranger who dared intrude upon her solitude?

Her warrior instincts kicked in, and Layna tightened her grip on her sword. She squared her shoulders and firmly planted her feet, preparing for any threat.

The man noticed her change in stance and had the audacity to smirk.

With narrowed eyes and a voice sharp with irritation, she addressed him. “Do you often sneak up on others in the night like a scurrying mouse?”

The stranger’s smile broadened. “My sincerest apologies, Princess. I didn’t mean toscurry. I’m Prince Zarian of the Nahrysba Oasis.” He continued to smirk at her, oozing arrogance, as if she were the punchline to a joke that only he understood.

To make matters worse, he might have been the most handsome man she had ever seen, which only made her hate him more.

“PrinceZarian?” Layna arched an eyebrow as her gaze trailed over his simple attire. “I wasn’t informed of your arrival.” She tightened her grip on her sword. Her emotional turmoil with Nizam had left her wary of strangers, especially princes.

Unbothered by her appraisal, he stepped closer. “I’m not one for grand entrances and formalities. I prefer a more subtle approach.” He took another step closer. “Again, I’m sorry for startling you,” he added, extending his hand in greeting.

He didn’t seem very apologetic.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Layna retorted hotly, still simmering with annoyance. “You didn’t startle me.” She swiftly sheathed her sword and angrily strode past Prince Zarian and his outstretched hand.

Fuming, Layna marched through the palace corridors until she reached the east wing. Pausing outside her parents’ chambers, she fell into a familiar childhood habit. She and Soraya had always found a thrill in eavesdropping, a remnant of their more mischievous days. The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear the hushed, urgent voices of King Khahleel and Queen Hadiyah.

Straining to listen, she caught fragments of their conversation—whispers of a “prophecy” and the “Medjai,” but the details eluded her. These words sparked a vague memory dancing at the edge of her thoughts, but it was too indistinct to grasp. Brushing it aside, she focused on her immediate concerns.

Layna pushed open the heavy door and barged in. Her parents looked up, eyes wide, surprised by her abrupt entrance.

“Why is Prince Zarian of the Nahrysba Oasis here?” she demanded, words tumbling out in a flurry of frustration. “And why was I not informed? Is he another suitor?”

Her parents shared a brief glance before her father cleared his throat. “No, my dear, he is not a suitor. Prince Zarian is here as an adviser on matters of state and defense. His arrival was meant to be discreet.”

Hadiyah’s eyes softened as she looked at her daughter. “We didn’t want to burden you further, especially after…recent events,” she added, acknowledging Layna’s heartache.

Layna’s shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of confusion and suspicion mingling with her emotional fatigue. “But we don’t have a formal alliance with the Oasis,” she said, the fire of her anger fading into a flicker of curiosity. “Why would their prince come here?”

“King Tahriq, Zarian’s father, and I are old friends,” Khahleel explained, casting a meaningful glance at Hadiyah. “With tensions rising with Zephyria, I thought we could benefit from his expertise in palace security and other crucial matters.”

Layna nodded slowly. Whowasthis Prince Zarian, and what role was he to play in Alzahra?

“Layna,” her father continued, his voice softer than usual, “Prince Zarian is an esteemed guest. I expect you to extend the hospitality that befits your upbringing. Remember, you are destined to be queen, and part of that destiny is learning to master your emotions.”

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