CHAPTER TWO

S hining 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.

Layna surveyed the multitude of dishes spread across the table before settling on a plate of delicately arranged pastries and a pot of strong, aromatic coffee. “Prince Nizam,” she said, smiling brightly, “may I offer you some of our traditional pastries? They’re freshly made this morning. And perhaps some coffee?” She reached for the pot with practiced poise.

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” He smiled, gratefully accepting the offered plate. “Your hospitality is unmatched,” he added appreciatively as she poured him a cup of coffee.

Layna beamed, her heart somersaulting in her chest.

As they savored breakfast, Queen Hadiyah broke the comfortable silence. “Prince Nizam, we’ve heard much about your homeland. We would love to know more about your family as well.”

Nizam paused mid-bite to respond. “Of course, Your Majesty.” He hastily chewed and swallowed before responding. “My father, King Amnaar, is a devoted ruler. He and my mother, Queen Nissa, are loving parents. I’m truly blessed. I also have two younger sisters, Yasmirah and Yasminah. They keep the palace alive with their mischief.” A fond smile crossed his face, but it faded as he continued. “My father has been recovering from a stomach illness.” A shadow passed over Nizam’s features. “He’s mostly fine now, but his recovery has been slower than we’d hoped. It’s why I must return to Baysaht after only a week’s time—to continue overseeing the kingdom while he rests.”

Soraya leaned forward, eyes slightly narrowed. “Queen Nissa can manage the kingdom for a short time while you’re away, no?”

Khahleel coughed into his coffee, while Hadiyah raised her eyebrows at Soraya in warning. The younger princess tilted her head, looking at her parents inquisitively, not quite understanding their concern.

Nizam shifted uneasily in his chair, his gaze darting briefly to his lap. “My mother is not quite involved in ruling matters,” the prince finally said. “Things are a bit different in Baysaht.”

Soraya opened her mouth to inquire further, but Lord Ebrahim interjected, expressing warm sentiments for King Amnaar’s recovery. The room fell silent, the atmosphere turning solemn as the group absorbed Nizam’s words.

“Lord Ebrahim,” Nizam said, turning to the senior adviser. “I understand you have a daughter. She has not joined us?”

“Yes, I do.” Lord Ebrahim smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling behind his spectacles. “Her name is Burhani. She is currently in Janta working to secure a trade agreement. It’s her first diplomatic mission. I don’t expect her back for another week or so.”

Nizam nodded appreciatively. “If she is anything like her father, she must be quite skilled at diplomacy.”

Soraya exchanged a furtive grimace with Layna, who struggled to keep her laughter in check.

“She is an avid learner. Burhani is very bright,” Lord Ebrahim said with pride. “Just like our Layna here.” He smiled warmly at Layna, running an affectionate hand over her head.

“Lord Ebrahim gives me too much credit,” Layna said with a grin. “He’s spent countless hours teaching me over the years, mostly because I drove my tutors to the brink of madness.” Everyone laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the room. After a beat, Layna turned to her father. “Baba,” she said brightly, “Soraya and I were planning to take Prince Nizam on a tour of the city today.”

Her father, more relaxed in this informal setting, nodded his approval. “An excellent idea,” he concurred. “It would be good for Prince Nizam to experience our culture firsthand.”

The palace stables buzzed with activity. Ready to venture into Alzahra City, Layna had changed into lightweight trousers and a short-sleeved tunic, her sword belted securely at her waist. Her horse, Qamar, a majestic Arabian mare with a glossy white coat and a shimmering mane, greeted her with a soft nicker. Layna adjusted Qamar’s saddle with practiced ease, tenderly stroking her mane, whispering words of fondness.

Meanwhile, the stablehands prepared a robust, noble bay horse for Prince Nizam. As they equipped the steed with saddle and bridle, it stood patiently, ready to tread the streets of Alzahra City.

Soraya had gracefully bowed out of joining them, citing an urgent need in the palace greenhouse. Layna saw through the flimsy excuse and felt a surge of gratitude. She was excited to spend the day alone with Nizam.

“No guards?” Nizam asked warily from atop his horse, his head tilted slightly and eyebrows knit together.

“No, we’ll be alright,” Layna reassured with a smile, urging Qamar forward.

As the pair rode away from the palace, her pride shined through as she guided him through the vibrant streets. Each turn revealed architectural marvels and historical sites, rich with the city’s storied past.

Trotting along the cobblestone streets, Layna described the ancient Alzahran Aqueduct, an impressive feat of engineering that had stood for centuries. She explained how it channeled water from the distant northern mountains where rainfall was more abundant to sustain the city. A sophisticated network of pipes ensured every building and residence in the capital had running water.

“We’ve been trying to court some engineers from Valtisaan to further modernize the city and perhaps even the villages,” Layna mentioned as they ventured deeper into the city. “But we’ve had no success so far. The Valtisaani are very secretive about their methods.”

“They’ve always been that way,” Nizam agreed. “But even more so now with the new king.”

Next on the tour was the Moon Temple. Centuries ago, the moon was worshipped by the people of Alzahra and across the continent. Over time, the world evolved, and the ancient practices gradually faded. Now, the temple stood as a historical monument, preserved by a few dedicated priests and priestesses. While it rarely saw genuine worshippers, it remained an important piece of Alzahra’s history.

Their ride soon brought them to the heart of a seasonal harvest festival, a yearly celebration that transformed the city with color, music, and laughter. The streets were decorated with red and gold banner flags, fluttering above the bustling crowds. The aroma of spiced foods and sweet treats permeated the air, as vendors called out to passersby with offers of delicacies and handmade crafts. Dancers moved in synchrony to the rhythm of drums and flutes, their vibrant red costumes swirling around them like shimmering clouds.

Nizam watched in awe, his gaze darting from one spectacle to the next, pure fascination etched across his features. Layna couldn’t help but smile. “I’m surprised to see you so taken aback,” she teased gently, eyes sparkling with mirth.

He turned to her with a broad smile. “Amazed would be the right word,” he admitted. “In Baysaht, we have festivals, but they tend to be more ceremonial. But, moons, this”—he gestured broadly at the scene before them—“is refreshingly vibrant. It’s beautiful to see such uninhibited joy and celebration.”

Their conversation flowed easily as the crowd parted around them, many of them waving to Layna, who smiled and waved back.

“I must admit, I’m shocked you roam the city without an escort of guards,” Nizam remarked, shielding his eyes from the bright sun as their horses trotted along, the sounds of the festival fading behind them.

Layna smiled conspiratorially. “Soraya and I used to sneak out of the palace as teenagers. Baba was always furious when we managed to elude our guards. But once we began sword fighting lessons, I think he worried less. He’s tripled the city patrol because of us, though he’ll never admit it. Officially, it was for ‘public safety,’” she explained with a grin.

“And your citizens? Please don’t take this the wrong way, but they don’t seem…in awe of you,” Nizam noted, his brows furrowed. “When I leave my palace, my guards clear a path and keep the people at bay. It would be chaos otherwise.”

Layna thought for a moment. “I never realized it was odd. Perhaps because the citizens see me so often? I host a monthly assembly open to the public, so I interact with many of them regularly.”

“That’s fascinating.” Nizam gently nudged his horse closer to hers, allowing their legs to brush lightly as their mounts trotted side by side.

Layna’s cheeks flushed. Each stride sent a ripple of awareness through her, the light pressure pleasant where Nizam’s leg brushed against hers.

“I was surprised to see Lord Ebrahim at breakfast,” Nizam commented. “It’s rare for council members to dine with the royal family in such informal settings.”

“Lord Ebrahim is part of our family,” Layna replied with a soft smile. “He’s been advising Baba since before I was born. In many ways, he’s like a second father to me.”

“Then, you are truly blessed,” Nizam said. “And with Burhani, you have another sister.”

Layna’s smile faded slightly. “Burhani came to live at the palace three years ago. Lord Ebrahim brought her here after her mother’s death. I’m not certain he even knew about her before that.”

Nizam’s eyebrows shot up. “ Oh . That must have been quite an adjustment.” Noting Layna’s pensive silence, he did not press further.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, Layna and Nizam journeyed back to the palace.

Their horses slowed to a halt at the stables, an amiable silence wrapped around them. Nizam helped Layna dismount, and the prince and princess returned to the palace together.

As Layna retired to her chambers that evening, the day’s excitement lingered in her mind. A gentle knock broke her contemplation. Soraya rushed in, and Layna’s smile broadened as her sister sat beside her on the bed. Layna grasped her hand in gratitude. “Thank you. I had the most incredible day with Nizam.”

Soraya flashed a cheeky grin and squeezed Layna’s hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she teased, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “I truly did have an emergency in the greenhouse. Tell me more about him.”

“Honestly, I feel such a strong connection to him already. He’s charming, polite, smart, and so handsome! I could drown in his beautiful green eyes all day,” Layna confided with a dreamy smile. “And he seems to care about me—just me , not the future queen.”

Soraya listened intently, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “It sounds like he sees the real you,” she remarked softly.

The younger princess was quiet for a moment, her expression contemplative. Layna recognized that look. “What’s on your mind, Soraya?” she prodded gently, tilting her head to catch her sister’s gaze.

Soraya hesitated. “I don’t want to put a damper on your excitement, Layna. I truly am so happy for you,” she began, choosing her words carefully.

“But?” Layna prompted.

“But…perhaps take some more time before deciding. It’s only been two days, after all. And Baysaht—their culture seems quite restrictive of women.” Soraya paused, weighing her next words. “Compared to your previous suitors, I agree that Nizam seems like the perfect match. But you need more time to understand him better and see him clearly—not just through the lens of these initial feelings.”

“I know it seems rushed,” Layna said. “But it just feels right. I can’t explain it. Do you remember the stories Mama told us as children? I think she was right that some souls meet before ever setting foot on this earth, and then they recognize each other when they meet again. I feel that way with Nizam.”

Soraya snorted. “Mama also told us stories about the monstrous Sun Slayer who’d come and steal us away if we didn’t go to sleep.”

“Soraya, I’m serious!” Layna exclaimed, swatting her sister’s arm. Frowning, she narrowed her eyes as the younger princess broke out in a fit of giggles.

Huffing in annoyance, her gaze drifted as she considered Soraya’s words. “Yes, you’re right about Baysaht’s customs. And you’re right to remind me to be cautious. But Nizam seems different. I’ve been open with him about our customs, and he actually seemed impressed,” Layna defended. “Still, I’ll take my time and learn more about him. Thank you for caring so much.” She squeezed her sister’s hand in gratitude.

Soraya enveloped her in a tight hug. “Goodnight,” she said. “Sleep well. And without nightmares.” Layna gave her a strained smile, her eyes darting to her lap.

After Soraya left, Layna lay awake for hours. The prospect of exploring what lay ahead with Nizam filled her with hope. He was a strong match for her kingdom and someone she felt genuine attraction toward.

But Soraya was right. While Layna was already picturing her future with Nizam, what vision did he see for them?

In the days that followed, Layna and Nizam spent hours together every day, their time interrupted only when Layna was called to council meetings or when King Khahleel sought Nizam’s counsel on Baysaht’s resources. Between casual strolls, earnest discussions, and shared meals, each encounter deepened their understanding of one another.

One sunny afternoon, Layna practiced her archery on the training grounds. Her hair was braided, with loose strands fluttering around her face in the gentle breeze. She wore a white sleeveless tunic and fitted trousers, both made of breathable fabric suited to the desert heat. A wide leather belt held her quiver, and sturdy boots protected her feet. As she drew her bow, sunlight glinted off the silver embroidery on her tunic.

The princess released arrow after arrow, each finding its mark with precision. The sound of footsteps broke her concentration, and she turned to see Nizam approaching.

“You never cease to amaze me, Layna,” he marveled, handing her a skein of water. She gratefully accepted, gulping down the cool liquid.

“You’ve seen nothing yet. Archery is just one of many skills we pride ourselves on in Alzahra.”

Nizam stepped closer, a playful gleam in his eye. “I’ve been learning a new form recently. May I show you?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, of course.” Layna handed him the bow and stepped aside.

However, instead of demonstrating himself, Nizam gently pulled Layna back by the fabric of her tunic and positioned himself behind her. “It’ll be easier if I guide you through it,” he murmured in her ear, sending a cascade of shivers down her spine.

Before Layna could respond, his arms encircled her, his hands guiding hers to the correct position on the bow. The warmth of his body seeped through her training clothes, enveloping her in a cocoon of heat.

Layna’s heart raced, her focus scattered by their sudden closeness. His scent surrounded her—a subtle blend of citrus and earth. His breath brushed her ear as he explained the stance, his words a soft whisper amidst the pounding of her heart.

Despite her attempts to focus, Layna was keenly aware of every point of contact between them—the firmness of his chest against her back, the gentle pressure of his hands guiding hers, the shared warmth radiating between them.

She loosed the arrow, but it veered wildly off target and bounced off a nearby stand of weights. A nervous chuckle escaped her as they stepped apart. Nizam frowned slightly at where the arrow had landed.

The moment was fleeting, yet as they separated, Layna struggled to compose herself. “Thank you for showing me. I’ll have to practice a bit more,” she said with a smile, her heart still fluttering. “Are your sisters also interested in archery and sword fighting?”

Nizam didn’t respond immediately. “Yes, they are,” he finally said. “But it’s been a challenging journey. Baysaht has only recently begun to adopt a more progressive stance on women participating in such activities. It took time, but my father has finally come around.” He sighed deeply. “We still need loads more progress. Having a strong queen like you would move mountains.”

Layna placed her bow aside and moved to a nearby bench, its wooden frame warm from the afternoon sun. Nizam followed, sitting close beside her.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his green eyes appraising her with concern.

“Nizam,” Layna began slowly, “Baysaht has never had a queen as its ruler. The crown only passes through the male line. And your mother, though she is your father’s queen, isn’t involved in the kingdom’s management.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “But I will rule Alzahra one day, just as you will rule Baysaht. How will we manage ruling two kingdoms? And will the people of Baysaht accept me?”

“I’m glad you brought this up,” he said, meeting her gaze, “and I understand your concerns. But I believe leadership must transcend traditions. Forging new paths is critical. Otherwise, Baysaht will remain stuck in the past.” He reached out, lightly covering her hand. “Baysaht may have never had a queen with true power, but I think it’s well past time for new traditions to take root.”

His gaze drifted to the horizon. “In practice, I imagine we’ll divide our time between Baysaht and Alzahra. Of course, I would never interfere in your sovereign decisions over your kingdom. I hope, though, you might rely on me for counsel, as I would rely on you.” He leaned back, casually draping his arm over the bench, inching closer to Layna. “We’d need strong councils in both kingdoms to manage affairs in our absence. But with careful planning and communication, I see no reason why we can’t make it work.”

His words painted a picture of a partnership of equals. “Imagine the message we’d send to our people and the world,” Nizam added. “A united front, blending the strengths of both cultures, leading by example. Honestly, I can’t picture anyone else as my queen. Only you, Layna.”

Layna was at a loss for words. She could only smile at him, her full lips quivering slightly, her eyes suddenly damp. Nizam pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. They gazed out at the horizon together, their future laid out before them.

The days rushed by despite Layna’s wish for time to slow down. On the eve of Nizam’s return to Baysaht, a creeping melancholy took hold of her heart. Their time together had been perfect. There was an unexpected joy in finding someone who understood her in ways she hadn’t dared imagine.

She had always known her duty as future queen meant making a strategic match, but finding a true companion seemed like a distant dream. Her connection with Nizam stirred hopes she had never allowed herself to nurture.

Guided by the moon’s soft light, Layna walked to the palace gardens, mindful of any watching eyes.

Nizam had asked her to meet him there.

The cool, fragrant air, perfumed with the scent of jasmine and roses, wove a sweet aroma into a night Layna wished would last forever. She followed the winding paths, humming with the gentle buzz of insects, to a secluded gazebo.

As she approached, Layna saw Nizam waiting. The moonlight cast a soft glow around him, highlighting the green in his eyes and making them sparkle like emeralds. He looked every bit the prince in his elegant white tunic.

He closed the distance between them, his movements graceful and deliberate. As he took her hands in his, Layna felt her heart leap, each beat echoing in her ears.

“Layna,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her, “I wish I had the words to express my heart. I know it’s only been a week, but somehow, it feels like my soul knows yours.” Gently, he guided her to sit beside him in the gazebo.

“Nizam,” she whispered, moonlight illuminating her face, “I’m embarrassed to admit that you have thoroughly won me over, perhaps from the very first night you arrived.” Nizam smiled at her, eyes warming at her confession.

She turned to face him, curiosity coloring her tone. “I’ve been wondering about something. How did you know my favorite color was green?” Her eyes searched his for the story behind his thoughtful gesture.

Nizam’s expression softened, his eyes misting with a distant look. A small, wistful smile tugged at his lips. “I saw you years ago at the Grand Summit of Monarchs. Your first Summit, I think. I was only twenty-three. You were maybe seventeen or eighteen. On the first day, you wore a dark green abaya that sparkled with jewels in the sunlight. The next day, it was a simple moss-colored gown. And on the final day, you looked like a goddess in a white abaya, but even then, your belt was encrusted with emeralds.”

He paused, a shy smile on his lips. “I was utterly captivated by your beauty. You were always with your father, and I lacked the courage to approach you then,” he admitted, glancing away. “During the trade discussions, Zephyria’s emissary made a snide remark about Alzahra. But before your father could respond, you angrily chastised the man, who was likely decades older than you. Your fire impressed me then, and I can see it burns brightly even now.”

Layna listened, surprise and delight swirling within her. This revelation felt like uncovering a secret page from her own history.

“You remembered me from then?” Her voice was low in the night and filled with wonder. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall seeing you.” She gently squeezed his hand.

“Yes, I remembered you. How could I not? You left such a mark on me, even from afar. I promised myself that if destiny gave me another opportunity, I would seize it. When Alzahra was recommended among suitable kingdoms by my council, it was my second chance. To finally speak to the fiery girl in green.”

The depth of his admission, the idea that she had unknowingly left such an impact on him years ago, rendered her momentarily speechless.

It felt like fate.

In the quiet of the gazebo, under the starlit sky, she simply watched him, warmth blooming in her chest. They sat in comfortable silence, the night alive with the subtle sounds of the gardens.

Nizam cradled Layna’s cheek with a feather light touch. “Layna,” he murmured, “may I kiss you?”

Her heart raced, every part of her screaming a silent yes. His question hung in the air.

Breathless, she nodded.

Nizam leaned in slowly, giving her a moment to retreat, but she remained still, eyes slowly fluttering closed. Their lips met in a tender kiss, his lips soft and warm as they moved against her own. It was over far too soon, and as they parted, Layna’s breath escaped in a soft gasp.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Nizam whispered softly. His voice was a tender caress, carrying the hope of what was to come.

Layna could’ve sworn she felt her fingertips tingling.

Layna stood in the courtyard alongside her sister and parents, the stone floor warmed by the early morning sun. Despite the day’s brightness, a shadow dimmed her smile as they gathered to bid Prince Nizam farewell.

Carriages and horses were lined up neatly by the fountain, awaiting their prince for the journey back to Baysaht.

Nizam stepped forward to address King Khahleel. “Your Majesty,” he said, grasping the king’s hands in gratitude, “I cannot thank you enough for your unparalleled generosity during my stay.”

“Prince Nizam, your visit has been a blessing to us. Your thoughtful gifts and the spirit of friendship you’ve extended are deeply appreciated. Alzahra will remember your visit fondly,” Khahleel replied warmly.

Nizam hesitated, his eyes briefly finding Layna before returning to the king. “If I may be so bold…might I request a lock of Princess Layna’s hair?”

The courtyard fell into hushed anticipation, every eye on King Khahleel, whose expression remained unreadable.

Layna held her breath.

Then, with a measured tone, Khahleel said, “I am honored by your regard for my daughter. I would be glad to consider it on your next visit, should our discussions of alliance progress.”

Though a glimmer of disappointment crossed Nizam’s features, he accepted the king’s decision with a gracious nod. The ritual token would have formally cemented their courtship.

Nizam bowed deeply to Queen Hadiyah and Soraya, offering each a respectful smile. Then, turning to Layna, he paused, the distance between them charged with unspoken words.

“I’ll write to you as soon as I return to Baysaht,” he promised softly. “And I swear, it won’t be long before I see you again.”