Chapter 28 · Untitled Chapter

The silence did not remain unbroken for long. Within the hour, the house stewards moved through the corridor, their measured steps heralding a summons to the lower majlis. There was no knock upon my private inner doors—Saud’s command held fast—yet the murmur rising from the reception hall carried the unmistakable tension of an assembly refusing to disperse.

I adjusted the dark folds of my tarha, ensuring the fabric draped cleanly over my shoulders, and descended the marble staircase with deliberate calm. In the wide, cedar-paneled council room, the air was dense with the bitter warmth of roasted cardamom and the heavy drift of burning oud from the silver mabkhara.

My uncle sat near the center of the low divans, flanked by two senior representatives of the extended family. His face was rigid, mottled with suppressed fury, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against his knee.

He had not dared breach my rooms, but here, on the ancestral carpets, he still sought to strip away what had been granted.

"The arrangement cannot stand without collateral," my uncle was saying, his voice tight, pitching toward the other men to draw consensus.