Chapter 28 · Chapter 28

The silence that settled over the majlis was absolute, heavy with the weight of dismissed ambition. The men sat motionless along the perimeter cushions, their tea cups cooling untouched on brass saucers, their glances skittering toward the carpet. Not one of them dared speak into the quiet Saad had commanded with a single sentence.

Saad did not glance back at the low table. He rose with deliberate calm, smoothing the crisp drape of his white thobe. His stature held the room without an ounce of wasted motion; heba did not require an elevated voice, only the cold absence of hesitation. With his right hand, he gathered the endowment certificate and the folded sheet, securing the heavy vellum beneath his forearm.

"The morning sits late," Saad said into the still hall, his tone level, carrying neither triumph nor malice. "And the estate's ledgers do not wait on rumor."

He walked past the central pillar toward the arched alcove at the entrance of the private wing. I remained where I was, my spine straight beneath the black drape of my abaya, my hands resting still in my lap.