Page 65 of The Moon's Fury
“There’s a clothing shop up ahead. Let’s get you some warmer clothes.”
The bell tinkled as they stepped inside. The door had barely closed when an elderly woman approached, quickly grasping Layna’s elbow. He stiffened, but Layna placed a reassuring hand on his arm.
“My first customers of the day!” the elderly woman announced. Her bright smile dimmed as she took in Layna’sniqab. Her sharp, kohl-lined eyes slid to Zarian, and her smile all but vanished.
“What brings you in today?” The woman eyed him as she walked backward, tugging Layna along with her.
Layna glanced back over her shoulder. “Buy whatever you like,” he reassured, standing guard by the door.
The woman dragged Layna farther away, but Zarian still heard when she gestured to theniqaband surreptitiously whispered, “Does he make you wear it?”
“Make me?” Layna laughed, loud and bright. “The poor man can’t evenmake mewash the dishes.” The elderly woman howled with laughter, and even his lips twitched into a reluctant smile.
He scanned the small shop—empty. Lingering near the door, he watched as the shopkeeper laid out garment after garment for Layna to inspect.
Nearly an hour had passed by the time the elderly woman called him to the counter. “Sahib! Your wife is done.”
His heart stuttered in his chest.
For a moment, he wished Layna’s face were uncovered, just to see the blush he knew was blooming beneath her veil.
At the counter, the shopkeeper had neatly laid out Layna’s choices—thick-soled shoes, dark trousers made of a thick cotton, and tunics in various shades of the same material. He noted a few lacy chemises peeking out from under a handful of dark scarves. There was also an emerald-green abaya, overlaid with sparkling, blue embroidery.
Not ideal for two people on the run from a secret order.
He raised an eyebrow at Layna.
“I cajoled her into it,” the shopkeeper hastily said, glancing between them. “It will look lovely on her.”
“How much?” he asked.
“Thirty silver coins,” she said confidently, as if she had not quoted triple the items’ worth. “But for such a lovely couple, I’ll take twenty.”
Zarian reached for his pouch when his gaze caught on a small basket behind the counter. He leaned into Layna’s ear and gently asked, “Are you expecting your moon’s blood soon, love?” Her eyes widened, snapping to the elderly woman hunched across the counter, shamelessly eavesdropping.
“Oh, I misjudged you!” she crowed. “Big surly man, wife inniqab.” She clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. Keep her happy. She’s a ray of sunshine, this one.”
The woman added several thickly cut strips of fabric to their pile.
“Silpharoonleaves, too,” he said gruffly, gesturing to the basket. The woman gave him a cheeky smile.
“How many?”
“All of them.”
Her eyebrows shot to her hairline, but she had the decency not to comment. Layna’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
The woman packaged their order with deft hands. “Just passing through or staying a while? Visiting relatives?”
“Passing through,” he responded.
“Well, you can’t miss the harvest festival tomorrow night.”
He froze.
His hands itched to throttle the woman.
“Harvest festival?” Layna asked. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh escaping him.
