Chapter 29 · Untitled Chapter

The quiet that followed Tariq’s departure did not last until dawn. Before the hour turned, the muffled murmur of voices from the outer corridor signaled an arrival that refused to wait for the morning majlis.

I stood near the cedar screen, my shaila pinned firmly, watching the door latch shift. Mansour did not rise from his low seat. He simply reached out and adjusted the sleeve of his crisp white thobe, his thumb rolling a bead of dark amber across his palm.

When the heavy paneled oak swung inward, it was not the steward who stepped across the threshold, but Faisal Al-Enezi—a cousin whose branch had long claimed the northern agricultural holdings under the mantle of undivided ancestral trust.

Faisal did not look at me. In the presence of the master of the house, his eyes remained fixed on Mansour, though the tight set of his jaw betrayed the sting of having been summoned to the private wing rather than greeted in the open hall.

"Mansour," Faisal began, his voice pitched to an easy, familial warmth that rang hollow against the high stone walls.