Chapter 31 · Chapter 31

The rustle of heavy parchment cut through the muffled murmurs of departing men. From the side alcove, the scribe stepped forward, carrying the dark leather register that had recorded the affairs, covenants, and grievances of these families for decades. He placed it upon the low table of polished walnut at the center of the majlis.

Abu Bandar did not leave his seat. He remained seated at the head, his cane resting firmly between his knees. The men who had risen paused along the perimeter of the room, their eyes fixed on the heavy ledger. A matter brought before the elders could not dissolve into thin air; honor demanded that what had been entered five years ago be formally closed under the sight of all present.

"The record remains open until the ink dries," Abu Bandar said, his voice flat, devoid of the sharp edge it had carried only moments before. He looked toward Nawaf, then shifted his heavy gaze to me. "Hanan bint Fahad has spoken. The account she returned to claim was her own, and the claim is answered. There is no debt standing between the houses of Al-Qahtani and Al-Harthy.