Chapter 24 · Untitled Chapter

The heavy carved doors of the majlis swung open before Abu Nawaf could latch the velvet-lined box. The dry, cooling draft of the Riyadh night slipped across the threshold, stirring the faint haze of oud that hung between the high pillars.

My brother Fahad stood framed in the archway. He had not waited in the courtyard with the drivers, nor had he left his bisht folded across his arm. The dark wool hung over his crisp white thobe, edged in tarnished gold braid that marked him as an envoy of our father’s line.

Behind him, through the tall glass panels of the outer vestibule, the idling headlights of two black Land Cruisers cast harsh, white bars against the estate’s outer perimeter wall.

Fahad did not remove his sandals at the edge of the carpets until the steward cleared his throat. Even then, the gesture was sharp, an ungracious concession to protocol.

"Saud," Fahad said without preamble, his gaze sweeping past the brass dallah on the brazier, past Abu Nawaf, and landing heavily upon me. He did not offer the greeting of peace. "The family has waited three hours at the northern gates.