Chapter 14 · Untitled Chapter

The silence settled back over the private wing, thick with the cooling smoke of oud and the scent of cedar. The heavy wood of the door stood between us and the rest of the estate, deadening the distant hum of Riyadh waking beyond the high boundary walls. Dawn had bled the sharp navy from the high clerestory windows, replacing it with the pale, dry gray of morning.

I stepped away from the low divan. My movements were slow, measured, and entirely without tremor. The silk of my dark abaya lay folded over the arm of the carved chair where it had rested through the night. I gathered the cloth in both hands and shook it loose, the fabric whispering as it settled over my shoulders.

Bandar did not move toward me. He stood beside the heavy lacquer table near the door, his white thobe pristine, his sleeves unrolled and fastened at the wrists. He watched my hands with that same unblinking composure, giving me the full breadth of the carpet, demanding nothing.

I caught the front seam of the abaya and brought the concealed snaps together, pressing them closed one by one, from my collar down to my waist.