Page 127 of The Moon's Fury

The wooden frame was unyielding against her back, and Zarian settled beside her. No matter how hard she tried, her gaze kept drifting to the tanned expanse of his bare chest, anticipation stirring in her veins. He caught her staring and winked, and she knew—he had forgone a shirt on purpose.

It was a simple meal of vegetable curry, potatoes and flatbread, but after weeks of surviving on rabbit meat and fruit, it tasted like a king’s feast.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the washroom,” he said, dipping a hunk of flatbread in the curry on her plate.

She laughed. “Really, it’s all right. I was embarrassed, but it’s not your fault.” He fed her a bite of the warm, curry-drenched bread. “None of the cities in Tarakshan have plumbing?”

“Tarak does—where the palace is. They’re expanding, but it will take time. Carving infrastructure into mountains is no easy feat.”

She huffed. “If Valtisaan weren’t so stingy about its advancements, it could change the continent. It used to drive Soraya mad. How did they come by such progress? And so quickly?” A shadow passed over Zarian’s face, as if an old memory played through his mind. “What?”

“Do you remember Khyrain? The Valtisaani monarch before Tamzin?” She nodded. “Toward the middle of his reign, one of his gold miners discovered a unique stone. It was unlike anything they’d encountered. Khyrain had scientists and chemists perform experiments, trying to glean more knowledge. He kept them cloistered in the palace, away from their families, working day and night.

“The stone was incredible. He called itsihrrock. Under the right conditions, it could create light. With different catalysts, it altered the flow of water. When mixed with other elements, it could bond with metal and become indestructible. Khyrain had the experiments documented. Then he murdered everyone who knew about it—the scientists, chemists, and the miner.” Her eyes widened with shock.

“Khyrain brought in new workers from different parts of the continent, and some beyond. Poor, downtrodden people who were promised stable work. He separated them into groups—some who built towering buildings, some who installed plumbing. Weaponry. And others who performed more experiments to learn new uses. Some men, he takes by force—Bedouins and bandits that no one will miss. He uses them as test subjects for experiments to learn howsihrrockaffects the body. But he never let these people leave. And breathing a word aboutsihrrockwas punishable by death.”

“How did he manage to keep it a secret from the entire continent?”

Zarian sighed. “It was around this time the Medjai learned about Khyrain andsihrrock. They’d never allow one kingdom to become so powerful. Outside of their control.”

“So they killed him,” she breathed. “But Ebrahim told me Khyrain was a tyrant. His people suffered greatly under his rule.”

“They did; Ebrahim wasn’t wrong. But make no mistake—his tyranny was not the reason the Medjai removed him. They couldn’t stand for someone to hold such power without their leave.”

A question burned in her mind, though she didn’t dare ask it.

He sensed it anyway.

“I wasn’t the one who killed Khyrain. But it makes no difference. I’ve killed plenty others.” His voice had gone hollow, his eyes dimmed. She climbed into his lap, twining her arms around his neck.

His hands tightened around her waist as he continued, “They propped up Tamzin through a rigged election. Told him he could keep thesihrrockall to himself. They’d help him keep it secret and find a steady supply of workers—Khyrain would kill the workers after a time, you see. To make sure no one breathed a word. As long as Tamzin vowed to defer to the Medjai.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I spent time in Valtisaan. When I was searching for my brother.”

Her brow furrowed. “But—Valtisaan allied with Zephyria against Alzahra. The elders approved?”

“No. He crossed a line.” Zarian shook his head. “You and I have kept the Medjai busy, but I’d bet all the gold we have that Tamzin will disappear soon. As for Ezanek—they’ll either scare Faimal into compliance or replace him.”

“What do the elders want? Why go through all this trouble to make monarchs bend to their will?”

“Control.”

They finished eating in silence. Layna watched him through her eyelashes, waiting for the tension in his shoulders to ease.

“Ask your question, my love.”

Moons, he could read her so well.

“Do you worry about your father?” she asked cautiously.

A muscle feathered in his cheek. “I don’t think about it. He made his choices. There’s nothing I can do for him.”

“We could—”

“No. We’d be walking into our deaths.”