Page 3 of The Moon's Daughter

Layna hardly tasted her food all evening. She stole furtive glances at Prince Nizam, who was engaged in conversation with her father and Lord Ebrahim, the senior adviser on Alzahra’s council. Snippets of their dialogue reached her ears. Her father was assessing Baysaht’s resources and the strength of its army. Baysaht, it seemed, would make a strong ally with its silver mines, fertile lands, and an imposing army of five hundred thousand well-armed soldiers.

As the evening progressed, Layna found herself increasingly drawn to the prince. Each time their eyes met, he would gift her a smile, sending her heart into a flutter of excitement.

After the meal, Nizam cleared his throat. “King Khahleel, might I request the honor of a stroll in the gardens with the esteemed princess?” he asked, his eyes flitting briefly to Layna before returning to the king. The request was unconventional, especially before a formal courtship was established, and sent a ripple of surprise through the hall.

King Khahleel’s initial frown was smoothed by Queen Hadiyah’s prompt and enthusiastic approval.

“Take two guards with you, Layna,” her father commanded, his stern gaze piercing through her. Though typically progressive, he seemed displeased by the bold request given their large audience.

“Yes, Baba.” Layna nodded, surprised and grateful he had agreed at all. Her heart raced as she rose. Her hand lightly brushed Nizam’s as they stepped through the side doors into the moonlit gardens. Under the serene moonlight, a familiar calm washed over her. The moon’s soft glow had always filled her heart with peace, and tonight was no different. Its gentle light steadied her nerves.

The quiet gardens felt like a world away from the dining hall’s lively noise. Walking side by side, they strolled along the stone pathways in comfortable silence, the mandatory guards maintaining a respectful distance, allowing a semblance of privacy under the watchful moon.

Nizam spoke first. “You have a beautiful kingdom. Its beauty is surpassed only by its princess.”

Layna felt her face warm, a telltale flush spreading from her neck to her cheeks. “Thank you. Your words are too kind. Tell me, what is Baysaht like?”

Nizam’s eyes lit up. “Baysaht is a land of contrasts—harsh deserts and lush oases. It’s challenging, but there’s a beauty in its resilience. Much like sword fighting, I suppose.”

“A comparison to sword fighting?” Layna smiled at him, her fingers playing with the sleeve of her gown. “Do you also partake in the art?”

“I do, though I must admit, I’ve heard tales of your skills. I’m certain you could best me,” he joked with a wide smile.

“You flatter me. My sister Soraya is the better swordswoman between us.” Layna ducked slightly under a low-hanging branch, and Nizam steadied her with a gentle grip on her arm.

Their conversation meandered from politics to art to their childhoods, and Layna found herself genuinely engaged. Unlike previous suitors who were preoccupied with Alzahra’s resources, Nizam seemed genuinely interested in Layna herself. He inquired about her hobbies, favorite foods, and leisure activities, seemingly keen to understand her as a person beyond her royal duties.

The prince also shared his own experiences, recounting stories about his travels. “In Minhypas, I was mesmerized by the incredible gardens,” he shared, his eyes alight with excitement. “And in Thessan, the Grand Libraries hold more knowledge than one could explore in a lifetime.”

“I’m jealous you’ve been able to travel so much. It’s always been a dream of mine,” Layna remarked, looking up at him as they passed a trickling water fountain. “Have you ever visited the Northern Lands?”

“No,” he chuckled, “my travels haven’t taken methatfar.” The prince paused beside a blooming rose bush, carefully plucking a pale pink rose and presenting it to Layna. She winced internally—her sister would be furious if she found out—but accepted the gesture with a warm smile.

As they neared the end of their walk, Nizam turned to her, his eyes soft and a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I really enjoyed our walk. I must confess, my visit wasn’t just about a political alliance. I was curious about you, the beautiful sword-fighting princess, and now, I find myself enthralled.”

Layna’s heart thrummed at his directness. “Your company has also been a pleasant surprise. How long do you intend to stay in Alzahra?”

Nizam’s gaze lingered on her. “For a week’s time,” he replied softly, a hint of regret in his voice. “After that, my duties call me home.”

They stood silently for a moment, the moonlight bathing the gardens in a gentle glow. In the tranquility of the night, their eyes met and held, a wordless understanding passing between them, one that promised new beginnings.

One of the guards subtly cleared his throat, discreetly signaling it was time to return. With embarrassed smiles, Layna and Nizam slowly made their way back to the dining hall. There, amidst the soft glow of the chandeliers, they bid each other goodnight.

CHAPTER TWO

Shining beneath the resplendent early morning sun, the proud kingdom of Alzahra basked in its glow. Vast deserts dominated much of the land, transitioning seamlessly into beautiful sandy beaches along the western coast. Scattered villages emerged where the land was kinder, and to the north, the harsh desert landscape softened into cooler, rocky mountains.

At the heart of the kingdom was Alzahra City, its capital, home to the grand royal palace, a jewel amidst the sands. Its stone walls shimmered under the sun’s caress. Around the palace, the air was cooler, whispering hints of the gardens within, a marvel of innovation within the arid desert.

Beyond the palace gates lay an expansive courtyard, centered around a majestic fountain. To the right and left, winding paths beckoned toward the lush gardens that wrapped around the palace like a brilliant green wreath.

The palace itself stood tall and proud, its stone walls rising to meet the clear sky, punctuated by sparkling domes and towering minarets. On one of its many towers, a secluded balcony was adorned with flowering vines, their blooms cascading over the edge in a colorful waterfall.

Inside, Princess Layna navigated her chambers in a frantic whirlwind of indecision. She flitted between wardrobes and mirrors, each gown pondered and then quickly cast aside atop a growing pile on her bed.

After considerable deliberation, she finally settled on a shiny silver abaya, a long and billowing garment that cinched tightly at her waist. She left her hair loose, dark waves flowing down her back and framing her face, regretting her stubborn insistence that Tinga only prepare her for formal events. Finally ready, the princess hurried to the breakfast room.

She found her family, along with Prince Nizam and Lord Ebrahim, already seated at the long table. As she entered, Nizam rose respectfully. She bowed before sitting beside Soraya, who greeted her with a knowing smile and a wink, already privy to the previous night’s developments. Layna had shared the details of her walk with Nizam the night before.

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