Chapter 30 · Untitled Chapter

I set the small porcelain finjan down beside the silver dallah, the rim clicking softly against the tray. Across the room, Bandar did not reach for the phone he had laid face-down on the thick wool weave. It remained dark, dormant, stripped of its power to summon or dismiss.

His white thobe was immaculate against the shadowed low seating of the private wing, the heavy gold-threaded bisht he had worn into the outer majlis discarded hours ago, yet the quiet authority that clung to him needed no ceremonial wool to command the room.

Rising from the low cushions, I gathered the black folds of my abaya and walked toward the arched alcove at the southern end of the wing. The high casement window overlooked the courtyard and the towering iron gates that separated my uncle’s estate from the quiet residential avenue of the northern district.

The heavy linen curtains smelled faintly of aged oud and dry night air. I drew back the edge just enough to see down into the glare of the compound’s floodlights.

The black sedans that had circled since midnight were gone.