Page 83 of The Moon’s Fury (Moon & Sands #2)

T he next morning, she awoke in their bed to Zarian trailing kisses up the length of her bare back.

“Good morning, wife,” he whispered huskily in her ear. He made love to her again, tenderly, languorously, until release shuddered through her sleepy limbs.

Afterward, as she drifted back into contented slumber, he kissed her cheek and said something about going into town for a few hours.

Layna lounged in their bed, the morning light brightening the bedroom. Eventually, she rose and readied for the day, wondering what was so important that Zarian had left for town so early in the morning.

Ambling downstairs, her footsteps felt light as air.

She was Zarian’s wife .

The thought made her giddy.

As always, her thoughtful husband had already measured out the ingredients for her silpharoon tea.

She turned on the sihrrock -infused burner and sat at the table.

Zarian had set out bread and a mango marmalade that Kylah had sent last week.

There was a lone, purple lily placed beside her plate, along with a jar of honey.

With a small smile, she ate her breakfast and gulped down her sweetened-but-still-bitter tea.

She meandered to the back courtyard and checked on the garden. She watered the plants that needed it, picked a few ripe vegetables, and brushed a special mixture over the entire garden to keep parasitic insects away.

Soraya would have been proud.

Afterward, she grabbed a sewing kit and a bolt of white cloth—well-intentioned but misplaced gifts from Kylah—and sat against a palm tree in their front yard. She knew nothing of sewing, had never even tried, but was determined to make some sort of wedding gift for Zarian.

Frowning, she held up the cloth. It was white and soft—perfect for a turban. And a turban couldn’t be too hard, could it? She just needed to cut and sew in the sides and make a clean edge.

With a smiling glance at her wedding ring, the large stone sparkling in the sunlight, she went to work.

At first, she jabbed her thumb more times than the cloth, but slowly fell into a rhythm.

It wasn’t complicated, and soon her fingers became accustomed to the up-and-down motion, similar to gentle, flowing waves.

A turban wasn’t an extravagant gift, but it would help shield his head from the hot sun when he was working with the islanders, and at least it was something until she procured a ring.

Layna finished hemming one side, then the other.

She was so immersed in her labor of love that she didn’t hear the footsteps creeping up behind her.