Chapter 25 · Untitled Chapter

The heavy cedar door of the private wing had barely settled against its frame before the sound of footsteps echoed down the northern corridor. It was not Ammi returning to salvage the remnants of his torn decree. The step was measured, slower, carrying the deliberate weight of someone accustomed to entering rooms where settlements were forged.

A messenger cleared his throat outside the archway, his head inclined toward the floor tiles. "Ya ustadh. A guest from Diriyah has arrived in the outer reception hall. He requests a word regarding the house account."

Saud did not turn his head immediately. He stood beside the low mahogany console, adjusting the crisp cuff of his white thobe, his posture completely undisturbed by the rupture that had just occurred in the gallery. "Who came?"

"Abu Tariq," the man answered softly. "He brought two witnesses and an agreement stamped this morning."

Saud signaled for the attendant to stand aside. He looked at me, his gaze sweeping over the fold of my black abaya, confirming that the tarha remained pinned and undisturbed over my hair. In the presence of anyone outside this wing, the line was absolute.

"Stay behind me," he said quietly. "Say nothing.