Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
REIYANA
A t dawn, while the caravan still slept, Reiya made her way to the bathhouse, drawn by the quiet urgency to see Solmaz one last time before leaving Zohara.
The attendant led her straight to Solmaz’s private study, where the air was thick with jasmine and ink, laced with the faint bitterness of dried herbs.
Sunlight streamed through high windows, casting pale beams over shelves lined with scrolls and vials.
At her desk, draped in jade-green robes, Solmaz sat poised, absorbed in her reading—composed as ever, a presence commanding attention even in stillness.
At last, Solmaz looked up, her sharp gaze softening. A faint smile curved her lips.
“Yara,” she greeted, setting the scroll aside. “I had hoped you’d come.”
Reiya stepped forward, the weight of parting pressing against her ribs. “I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.”
Solmaz gestured toward a cushion, already reaching for the teapot. “Leaving already,” she mused. “My bathhouse will be quieter without you here.”
Reiya sank onto the cushion, accepting the delicate porcelain cup. “Still, I wanted to thank you. ”
“For what? All I did was offer a bit of conversation and a place to rest.”
“For reminding me I was never as lost as I thought.”
Warmth flickered behind Solmaz’s eyes. “The strength was always yours, Yara. I only reminded you to look inside yourself.”
Reiya’s fingers tightened slightly around her cup. “I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.”
Solmaz reached out, squeezing Reiya’s hand. “Good. Because I suspect the road ahead will demand all the strength you have. As saddened as I am to see you go, I take comfort in knowing brighter days await you.”
Reiya squeezed back and swallowed the tightness in her throat. “I will come visit again.”
Solmaz’s lips curved, something both knowing and kind in her gaze. “The road always circles back. And when it does, I hope you’ve found what you seek.”
She hesitated, then added, her voice quieter, uncharacteristically soft, “And if you ever need a sister’s wisdom, you know where to find me.”
Warmth unfurled in Reiya’s chest. She had come here uncertain, untethered, but Solmaz had been a guiding presence unlike any other.
She smiled. “Then I will hold you to that, Big Sister.”
Solmaz hummed, amusement tugging at her lips. “Oh, I rather like the sound of that.”
They looked at each other—and laughed.
A s the sun reached its zenith, painting the sky in a bright shade of cloudless blue, the caravan arrived at a decisive fork in the road.
To their left, Dune Crest loomed, its towering monoliths standing sentinel at the entrance to the Numeria Desert.
To their right, the road curled back toward the ocean, leading to Bashkor—a city infamous for its sprawling marketplace and the shadowy dealings that thrived beneath its bustling facade .
Ahead, Elder Tasim stood with the heads of the other families, his weathered hands clasped behind his back as he exchanged farewells with the Xians. From the loose set of his shoulders, Reiya couldn’t help but think he was relieved—if not outright pleased—to see them go.
For her, the feeling was mutual.
Reiya caught the hostile glances from the Alpha mercenaries and the way Elder Tasim kept sneaking worried looks her way, as if even breathing wrong might stir more trouble.
Not wanting to miss her first real glimpse of the desert, she asked Xian Jun if she could ride the spare horse, and he’d agreed without hesitation. Now, she guided Ember alongside the wagon, the mare’s hooves kicking up small clouds of dust with every step.
Dune Crest loomed larger now, the towering rock formations cutting into the sky like the broken ribs of the earth.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away.
The pass itself was nothing more than a fissure in the rock, a narrow corridor of shadow and stone.
Barely wide enough for their wagons, its sheer walls loomed on either side, pressing inward like the closing of a great beast’s jaws.
The stones stretched toward the sky, imposing and ancient, their weathered faces carved by wind and time.
Stark in their duality, they were protective shields one moment, confining barriers the next.
Behind her, Mei Mei shifted in the saddle, her small arms tightening around Reiya’s waist. She leaned forward, her small body warm against Reiya’s back.
“You’re really quiet, Yara,” she whispered. “Are you scared?”
Reiya glanced over her shoulder, offering a faint smile. “A little. I’ve never been good with confined spaces. These rocks . . . they look like they’re waiting to swallow us whole.”
The girl hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t think so,” she said with exaggerated confidence, leaning back in her seat.
“We come here every year, and they’ve never done that before.
” A pause. “If anything, they’re like giant soldiers guarding secrets.
Maybe there’s a dragon sleeping inside, and the rocks are here to keep it undisturbed. ”
She arched a brow. “A dragon? And what would a dragon be doing in the middle of the desert? ”
“Guarding treasures, obviously,” Mei Mei replied, as if everyone should’ve known. “Or taking a nap. Dragons probably get hot in the sun too.”
Reiya laughed. “If we meet a dragon, I’ll count on you to talk it out of eating us.”
She felt the girl’s grin against her back. “Don’t worry, Yara. I’m very convincing. Lǎo lao always says I can talk my way out of anything.”
Ember let out a nervous whinny, shying away from the entrance to the passage. Reiya rubbed the horse’s neck, humming softly, coaxing her forward.
“Easy now, Ember. Just a shadowy passage. We’ll be on the other side soon enough.”
The small procession pressed on, slipping into the mouth of the pass where the sun could no longer reach. Cool, damp air closed around them, muffling the sounds of hooves and wheels. The scent of earth grew heavier, rich and loamy, and a chill crept over Reiya’s skin, raising bumps along her arms.
She forced herself to focus on the eerie beauty of it—the shifting contours of the rocks, the way they bent and curved. But darkness pressed closer, swallowing the last vestiges of sunlight. The unease in her chest tightened.
Then, Kaelen’s whistling cut through the silence.
Light and buoyant, the melody wove through the air like a lifeline thrown into turbulent waters. It echoed against the stone walls, scattering tension into the shadows.
She let the trapped air out from her lungs.
A gust of hot wind swept through the passage, carrying the phantom touch of sunlight.
She could almost imagine its comforting warmth seeping into her cheeks again.
Soon after that illusionary respite, true light slowly began to claw back against the darkness.
It was as though dawn was breaking within the confines of their stone prison.
Soft golden hues gradually replaced murky grey until it became blindingly intense.
She squinted against this sudden onslaught of light, like trying to hold back an ocean tide with her eyelids.
Then finally, their small group emerged from the pass. Reiya blinked rapidly before allowing herself to flutter her lashes and gasped at what lay before them.
The Numeria Desert.
They stopped at the edge where rocky terrain met the sand, her eyes wide as she beheld the sight. It stretched out to the horizon, dunes rising and falling like waves frozen in time—a landscape she’d never seen, so different from the sparkling blue of her island kingdom.
Here, everything was golden. The desert shimmered like molten gold, each grain of sand catching the sunlight and scattering it into a kaleidoscope of warm hues.
Heat rose in visible waves, and the dunes’ undulating forms gave the horizon a mirage-like quality, as though the world itself were shifting under the sun’s relentless gaze.
Having spent her life surrounded by the ocean’s cool, rhythmic embrace, she’d never imagined the desert could possess such stark, untamed beauty.
The poets had called it merciless, and she’d believed them.
But standing here now, perhaps they’d overlooked something—its freedom .
The dunes seemed to whisper a challenge, daring her to explore their endless expanse, embrace the unknown rather than fear it.
Reiya could no longer contain her excitement.
She hopped off Ember and hurriedly kicked her shoes off.
The heat burned her soles, but she didn’t care.
Her feet sank into the sand, the soft grains slipping through the crevices between her toes, enveloping her feet in a gentle caress.
The sand here was finer, smoother, its texture unlike the coarse grains of Aethonia’s beaches where crushed shells and corals pierced her soles with every step.
Lost in the moment, Reiya closed her eyes and tipped her face toward the sun, letting its warmth soak into her skin. Laughter bubbled up, light and unrestrained, carrying across the dunes as she spun, her feet kicking up little swirls of sand.
For a heartbeat, she was no one—no title, no burden—only a woman in a vast, golden world.
But then, like a thread tugging from a distant past, her mother’s voice echoed in her mind: ‘A princess must always carry herself with dignity.’
The words wrapped around her ankles like invisible cords, pulling her to a halt. Heat crept up her neck—this time not from the blazing sun, but from the sting of self-consciousness.
Breathless, she glanced back, seeking signs of censure on either princes’ face, but she found only amusement mirroring her own delight.
Kaelen teased, “Careful, Yara. The desert doesn’t take kindly to reckless explorers.”
She laughed, the sound carried by the wind. “And what do you know of reckless explorers, Kai? You’re just as reckless as I am.”
He dismounted with the fluid grace of someone entirely at ease in the world and strode toward her.