Chapter 21 · Chapter 21

The morning sun of Riyadh hit the limestone courtyard with a dry, blinding glare, burning away whatever chill had lingered along the stone corridor. I did not increase my pace. My abaya brushed the flagstones in an even, measured sweep, the silk heavy enough that the gathering desert wind did not disturb its line.

Behind me, Abu Fahad’s footsteps scraped against the threshold.

"Mariam!" His voice was sharp, dropped low to keep from echoing into the colonnade where the house guards stood motionless by the outer arches, but the edge of desperation cut through his composure.

"You take one step past this courtyard without your signature on this registry, and you seal your father’s debt to the council. Talal has no seat left to offer you. The men inside have already divided the northern holdings."

I did not turn. To turn back toward an outstretched parchment was to grant it weight, to acknowledge that the signature of a woman brought in as an observer could be extorted under an arcade.