Chapter 29 · Untitled Chapter

The quiet in the room lasted only as long as the dying smoke curling above the mabkhara.

Then the outer courtyard bell began to ring. It did not sound with the measured double chime of an arriving guest or the courteous pause of an elder waiting on the gravel drive. It struck in a hard, uninterrupted rhythm, brass clattering against iron at the far perimeter wall, vibrating through the cold limestone flagstones of the majlis.

I did not flinch, though my fingers pressed flat against the dark silk of my Abaya where it draped over my knees. Beside me on the low table, the settlement paper lay pristine, its margins untouched, weighed down beneath the solid brass seal Bandar had set upon it hours earlier.

Bandar did not rise from his seat. His hard-collared white thobe was immaculate, his posture unyielding against the high back of the carved armchair. His dark eyes remained fixed on the archway, his hand resting loosely upon the armrest, thumb turning a single amber bead between two fingers with deliberate, chilling calm. The Heba in his stillness was a wall thicker than the stone around us.

Footsteps approached from the corridor—