Chapter 30 · Untitled Chapter

The quiet that followed Faisal’s retreat did not linger in the corridor for long. Beyond the heavy carved doors that separated the private quarters from the grand majlis, the murmur of the district elders had grown still. They were men whose families had arbitrated land, water, and marriage contracts in northern Riyadh before the asphalt roads existed, and they had gathered not to debate, but to witness a settlement.

Mansour adjusted the cuffs of his white thobe, his movements methodical and devoid of haste. He looked at me where I stood by the threshold, the black fabric of my abaya resting lightly against the stone floor.

"Remain where you can see the court," he said quietly, his voice carrying neither hesitation nor plea. "What was hidden behind the names you gave this house ends today under their own eyes."

He did not wait for an answer, nor did he need one. When he pulled the doors wide, the rich, bitter scent of cardamom-laced gahwa and the heavy smoke of aged oud drifted in from the expansive reception hall.