Chapter 39 · Untitled Chapter

Beyond the high arched windows of the majlis, the courtyard stirred with the muted, hurried sounds of retreat. The heavy leather portfolios that had rested across knees and low side tables throughout the long night were buckled shut, their brass latches snapping against the quiet morning air. Not a single sheet had been signed.

Not a single seal had touched the parchment that still rested beside the dark casing of the telephone in the inner corridor.

I stepped toward the perimeter of the carpet, the hem of my abaya sweeping lightly over the wool. Through the sheer fringe of the drapery, I watched the elders from my father’s branch descend the wide limestone steps into the gravel drive.

There were no leisurely farewells, no lingering handshakes exchanged under the colonnade, no polite murmurs wishing peace upon the threshold. Their drivers brought the dark vehicles forward in an unbroken, disciplined line, the heavy doors thudding shut in grim succession.

Bandar remained standing near the center of the room, his white thobe crisp against the warm wood paneling, his bisht draped over his shoulder with the calm, immovable weight of an absolute verdict.