Page 20 of The Moon's Daughter

“So,” Soraya began, a teasing lilt in her voice, “You and Prince Zarian seemed quitein tuneduring the match.”

Layna let out a soft sigh, her gaze drifting toward the window. “Soraya, it was just a game.”

“Was it?” Soraya raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. “The way you two looked at each other, it was as if the whole world faded away. And that final shot of his…I’m certain he let you win.”

Layna shook her head. “Zarian is a skilled player. I doubt he would justletme win.”

“What about his comment about your lovely eyes?”

“He’s just a shameless flirt, that’s all,” Layna insisted, crossing her arms.

“Please, dear sister. It’s clear he has a soft spot for you. He doesn’t give Burhani or anyone else a second glance. There’s definitely something there.”

Layna sighed deeply, worrying her lower lip. “Even if there is—I’m just not ready to trust again. Not after Nizam.”

“I understand,” Soraya murmured, her tone softening. “But Layna, not everyone is like Nizam. Just don’t close off your heart completely.” Before Layna could respond, Soraya glanced at the clock and stood abruptly. “I should go.”

Layna looked up in surprise, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Soraya paused at the door and glanced back at her sister. “Just a little errand. I remembered something about the new plants. Nothing to worry about.”

Layna watched as Soraya slipped out of the room, her steps light and purposeful. She wondered about Soraya’s true destination but knew better than to pry. Her sister would tell her when she was ready.

Left alone, her thoughts drifted back to Zarian and his deep, intoxicating voice and his easy smile. Despite her reservations, she couldn’t deny their chemistry.

And from what she’d observed so far, Zarian was undeniably kind and intelligent, though occasionally a touch arrogant. She hated that she found even his arrogance attractive. Perhaps Soraya was right, but was she ready to take that leap of faith again?

In the fading light of day, Zarian retreated to a secluded part of the palace gardens. He navigated the familiar path with ease, his mind replaying the events of the croquet match.

As he reached a particularly shadowed alcove, a cloaked figure emerged from the darkness. Zarian relaxed slightly and gave a subtle nod of acknowledgment.

“Jamil,” Zarian greeted, his voice low. The figure pulled back his hood, revealing a tanned, boyishly handsome face framed by a mop of dark hair falling into his green eyes. A thin white scar ran down the left side of his face, from cheekbone to jaw.

“You look like you just lost a game of ‘Desert Shadows,’” Jamil teased, a game from their youth where they would sneak and hide in the desert, training their stealth.

Zarian chuckled. “Some things never change. You always had a knack for finding the best hiding spots.”

“And you were always too focused on the mission, even back then. Speaking of which, how goes your current endeavor? You seem…distracted. It’s unlike you.”

Zarian sighed. “It’s more complex than I anticipated. The princess…she’s extraordinary. Determined, intelligent, stubborn.” He sighed again. “Beautiful.”

Jamil’s expression softened. “And what of the prophecy? Does she suspect her role?”

“She’s asked me about the prophecy, but I don’t think she realizes its full extent,” Zarian admitted.

Jamil nodded, his expression turning serious. “Be cautious, brother. Our reports indicate rising tensions in the region. Zephyria is mobilizing, and we cannot afford any distractions.” He continued, his angular face grave. “There was an incident in the Grand Libraries of Thessan. Two senior librarians were found murdered weeks ago, their throats slit. Several Medjai texts are missing.”

“Why didn’t we hear of this earlier?” Zarian questioned, instantly alert.

Jamil shrugged. “Our man in Thessan is missing. Likely dead,” he speculated. “When he didn’t attend his briefing, the king sent Rohaan to search for him. That’s when we learned about the librarians.”

Zarian’s face clouded with concern as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. “Someone is searching for the orb.”

“And they may have already found it.” Jamil’s face was heavy with implication. “We dispatched groups of Medjai to search for the orb and the attacker, but whoever it was, he hid his tracks well. And some of our men didn’t return. We must prepare for the worst,” he added solemnly. “You must keep a vigilant eye on the princess.”

Zarian’s gaze hardened, the Medjai in him responding to the urgency in Jamil’s words. “I will. Are you returning to the Oasis?”

Jamil shook his head. “No. Your father instructed me to remain here should you need my help. Saahil is with me. He’ll relay any updates.”

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