Chapter 18 · Untitled Chapter

The quiet of the wing did not smother the voices filtering from the main corridor. Beyond the inner courtyard, past the thick limestone arches and the heavy cedar doors that barred this quarter from the public reception rooms, the rising cadence of men arguing cut through the night air.

I stood from the low divan. My silk abaya whispered against the wool runner as I straightened the drape of my tarha over my hair.

"Stay where the glass is shadowed, Noura," Bandar said without raising his voice. He had not moved from the armchair, but his posture had shifted from idle ease to coiled vigilance. His dark eyes tracked every line of my silhouette against the courtyard light.

"They are speaking of my father's house as if the walls have already fallen," I said, my voice steady despite the tightness in my chest. "And they are speaking of me as if I am cargo waiting at the gate for whoever claims the bill of lading."

"Let them speak." Bandar adjusted the cuff of his crisp white thobe, his thumb brushing over the silver link. "A man raises his voice only when he realizes his authority has stopped at the threshold.