Chapter 18 · Chapter 18

I adjusted the heavy crepe of the Abaya over my shoulders, pressing the concealed snaps along the front until the black fabric hung straight and unbroken to the floor. The Tarha rested across my dark hair, pinned firmly beneath my chin, shielding my neck while leaving my expression completely bare to the morning light filtering through the high clerestory windows.

The door to the courtyard corridor was unlocked. A discreet path led past the northern portico where an unescorted car could take me beyond the estate gates before the elders finished their morning gahwa. My freedom was laid out before me in plain, silent terms. Nayef had kept his vow; he had refused to surrender me to the council’s demands, and he had placed the handle within my reach.

I did not touch it.

Instead, I turned back toward the center of the private wing. Nayef had already smoothed the stiff collar of his white thobe and fastened the gold cuffs at his wrists.