Chapter 28 · Untitled Chapter

Bandar did not linger in the quiet of the wing. The dispute at the outer threshold demanded a settlement that could not be sealed behind cedar doors, and words left unbacked by presence were easily twisted by men eager for an excuse.

He picked up his dark bisht from the arm of the divan, gathering the gold-threaded trim in one hand with measured ease. He shook the fine wool out in a single, crisp motion, resting it across his shoulders so that the black fabric fell straight over his white thobe, restoring the formal weight of the majlis before he took a single step toward the courtyard.

"Stay inside," he said, his tone neither hurried nor severe, but carrying the quiet finality of an order that brooked no debate. "You do not show yourself at the outer perimeter. You do not offer an answer to anyone who asks through the glass."

"They came because of the recording," I said, rising from the low cushions to stand near the heavy frame of the inner door. I did not move past the threshold. Dignity in this house was measured by restraint, not by rushing into the sand where others fought for pride.