Chapter 31 · Untitled Chapter

The morning arrived with the dry, pale clarity that always settled over the northern quarter of Riyadh after a storm had cleared the dust from the air. In the vast majlis, the scent of the previous night’s heavy oud had thinned, replaced by the bitter, sharp warmth of freshly brewed cardamom rising from the dallah on the brass console.

I sat near the arched threshold of the corridor, cloaked in my black abaya, the tarha draped neatly over my hair, observing the hall with the quiet detachment that had once belonged only to my perch above the courtyard.

A messenger had come before the heat began to rise. He was a younger man from the northern branch, sent by the distant cousins who had calculated the cost of being severed from the ledger.

He stood just inside the tall entrance, bowing his head in formal deference, his thobe immaculate, his hands carefully holding an ornate chest of polished cedarwood wrapped in raw silk, accompanied by a heavy brass tray bearing pressed cakes of royal ambergris and rare grade oud wood.

"The elders of the north send their greeting to Abu Tariq’s son," the envoy murmured, keeping his voice smooth, his