Chapter 31 · Untitled Chapter

The silence in the grand majlis had shifted, thick with the scent of burning oud curling steadily from the brass mabkhara in the corner. Across the vast wool carpets, the men of both houses sat motionless along the low perimeter diwans, their white thobes crisp beneath the quiet afternoon light filtering through the northern courtyard.

Nobody spoke. The weight of Saud’s public settlement still hung over the room like an unalterable decree, binding and heavy with finality.

Saud remained seated beside me at the Sadr of the hall, his spine straight, his dark bisht edged in gold resting cleanly over his shoulders. He did not look around seeking approval. His presence carried the cold, measured heba of a man who had already answered every challenge before it could form on a tongue.

From the entrance near the service corridor, the steward appeared carrying the silver dallah, the steam rising sharply with the fragrant bite of fresh cardamom and saffron. But before the steward could take a single step toward the center of the hall, my uncle rose.

Ammi stepped forward, his gait measured, his features stripped of the biting contempt that had filled this house for weeks.