Page 22 of The Moon's Fury

Hadiyah pursed her lips. Surprisingly, her mother had taken the news well last night. She wasn’t pleased, but she had agreed to support Layna before the council.

“As you know, King Nizam seeks an alliance with Alzahra through marriage. I have thought long and hard on this. I do not make this decision lightly.”

She straightened her spine, drawing in a slow, steady breath.

“I will not marry him.”

The council members were silent for several long moments.

Then Lady Mirah and Lord Saldeen began to speak at once.

“Queen Layna, I must insist—”

“This is absurd, how can—”

“—our diplomatic relations—”

“What of the aid he—”

Layna raised a hand and silenced them. “As I said, I have thought long and hard. King Nizam and I agreed to negotiate a treaty, one that will allot a portion of Alzahra’s reparations to Baysaht. It will appease his council enough that our kingdoms can maintain diplomatic ties.”

Lord Saldeen frowned. “Why would we agree to send aid, that weneed, might I add, if we could strengthen our position through marriage?”

Layna pulled her shoulders back. “Because I do not wish to marry him.”

Ebrahim and Hadiyah shared a glance.

Lady Mirah sighed. “Prin—apologies, Queen Layna, I urge you to reconsider. We understand your heart might lie … elsewhere, but Alzahra must come first. The rumors about you arevicious. The aid we’ve received from other kingdoms, much of it was born from fear of the Moon Queen. An alliance with a strong kingdom would silence the dissenters, especially those within our own borders!” Lady Mirah was referencing the Children of the Pure, the faction that had organized a mob outside the city checkpoint.

The faction that had declared her unstable and dangerous.

A dull, pulsing pain began to throb behind her eyes. She blinked rapidly, attempting to focus on Lady Mirah’s words.

“—think of your kingdom.”

Layna’s heart began to race, faster and harder, as if it were trying to outrun their disagreement. She gripped the table with sweaty palms. The room spun round and round.

What was happening to her?

“Layna? Are you all right?” Ebrahim asked.

No, I’m not all right, she wanted to say, but her mouth felt stuffed with sand. Her breakfast churned furiously within her stomach, and she took deep, gasping breaths, trying to calm her thundering heart.

“Layna?” Her mother’s voice sounded distant, the sound muffled amidst the rushing of blood in her ears.

A deep, red sky. The moon shadowing the sun.

Zarian! Please, Zarian!

Blood trickled from his mouth, flowing down his neck.

She gasped as her vision cleared, horror clouding her senses along with confusion. A strange sense of déjà vu engulfed her.

Layna focused on the concerned, wary faces of the council. Ebrahim had risen at some point and poured a glass of water for her.

“Apologies,” she rasped between sips. “Perhaps my breakfast did not agree with me.” She cleared her throat, refocusing on the council members. “As I said, I do not wish to marry Nizam. Instead, I will—”

“Wait for more proposals,” her mother interjected. “There are other wealthy kingdoms who wish to ally themselves with Alzahra. Perhaps, Maridunia or Minhypas.”