Page 99 of The Moon's Daughter
Before the eclipse, Layna’s presence would have sparked celebration, her name on the lips of a cheering crowd, her path lined with adoring subjects, flower petals strewn in celebration.
Her people had always loved her.
But now, as she emerged from the carriage, she was met with uneasy stares, a strange mix of fealty and fear, the aftermath of rumors that had wrapped both awe and suspicion around her.
The tension was tangible, threading thickly through the assembly. Whispers of the Moon Queen and her powers carried on the wind, though none were bold enough to openly jeer.
The coronation ceremony was brief by design, intending to limit Layna’s exposure. Lord Ebrahim formally declared her the new queen, his voice steady as he recited the sacred oath of monarchs.
Layna, her voice clear and unwavering, repeated the words and pledged to uphold Alzahra’s laws and always act in the best interests of its people. Her binding promise to the kingdom resonated through the silent crowd, sealing her fate as their ruler.
Lord Ebrahim placed the heirloom crown on her head. Sparkling in the sunlight, it was made of finely wrought gold. Embedded within the delicate filigree were gleaming red rubies, their rich, red depths winking in the light.
Below in the crowd, Zarian watched Layna. Immense pride welled up inside him. She was the leader Alzahra needed.
Yet mingled with that pride was an unnameable sense of loss, a lump in his throat, and a burning in his eyes he struggled to conceal.
Lord Ebrahim concluded the ceremony with, “All hail Queen Layna!” His call for celebration was taken up by the crowd, their voices initially hesitant, but soon unified in their shouts of reverence.
Yet, as echoes of “Queen Layna” rang out, a shift occurred—the chant transformed, morphing into a moniker that carried a different weight.
“Moon Queen! Moon Queen! Moon Queen!”
After the coronation, the return to the palace was somber. Layna, now officially queen, headed toward her father’s private office—a room brimming with memories and the weight of responsibility that now rested on her shoulders.
A room that was now hers.
The crown on her head felt oppressively heavy. Layna yearned to cast it off and ease the pressure at the base of her skull, yet she resisted.
Her kingdom needed her.
Her mother needed her.
Poor Hadiyah, thrust into managing the kingdom so soon after becoming a widow. She deserved space and time to finally mourn and process her own grief.
As Layna sat reviewing her father’s notes, the door swung open, and Zarian strode in.
They had avoided discussing their future together—Zarian giving her time to heal and Layna delaying making a decision.
He no longer visited her at night, fearing that seeing him climb over the balcony would re-traumatize her and dredge up painful memories.
How Layna wished to return to the woman she once was—the one who had captured Zarian’s heart. She wanted to laugh again, to smile again, to experience the joy of a newly blossoming love again.
Zarian approached her with purpose, his handsome face determined. He walked around the large desk, firmly grasped her hands, and pulled her up from the chair. Her heart thudded as his warm hands cradled her face.
Warm hazel eyes locked onto hers, and he seemed on the cusp of voicing long-held thoughts, something exceedingly important.
But the moment shattered when the door swung open abruptly.
Layna and Zarian both snapped their heads to the doorway as a servant entered hastily. The man froze, cheeks flushing at the sight of his new queen and Zarian in such an intimate manner. Quickly averting his gaze, he shifted awkwardly on his feet.
Layna recognized him as a courier. The servant cleared his throat, overcoming his initial embarrassment, eyes sparkling eagerly as a broad grin spread across his face.
“Your Majesty! It’s here! You’ve received a letter from Prince—er, King Nizam!” he announced, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.
With a flourish, he presented her with a crisp envelope sealed with the regal emblem of Baysaht. Emblazoned upon it in exquisite precision was her new title:Queen Layna. Below it, in smaller font, was King Nizam’s name.
With furrowed brows, Layna traced her fingertips over the intricate, embossed lettering, and her eyes flashed white.