Previous Summary:
Zayd, Layla, and Qadir rejected Emir Jalal's deal and instead found a better building from an old spice merchant, Hakeem, who sold it for 800 gold. With the promise of keeping the orange trees and adding his spice-sellers' scents, the deal was sealed. Artisans and perfumers began joining the project, and laughter filled their small workshop as plans for the luxury shop took shape.
📍 Scene: The New Shop Courtyard – Morning
Sunlight filtered through the orange trees as workers carried in crates of silk, carved shelves, and glass jars. The once-empty annex was alive again with hammering, sweeping, and the scent of fresh timber.
Qadir was barking orders at laborers like a general on a battlefield.
QADIR (hands on hips, shouting):
"Careful with that vase! That costs more than my whole wardrobe!"
One worker muttered, "Then your wardrobe must be cheap."
Qadir spun around, scandalized. "What did you say?!"
Layla only laughed, standing beside Zayd as she inspected the growing shelves.
LAYLA:
"He's more dramatic than the silk itself."
Zayd, calm as ever, watched the bustle. For once, he didn't have to micromanage. Qadir's energy kept everyone moving, and the carriage business still brought steady gold each week.
ZAYD (quietly to Layla):
"With Qadir running between the carriage yard and here, I can finally focus on weaving these ideas together."
📍 Scene Change: Merchant Guild Hall – Afternoon
While Qadir oversaw the shop's renovations, Zayd went to the guild hall to secure legitimacy. The hall was a grand stone building where contracts were recorded and disputes settled.
A scribe with ink-stained fingers greeted him.
SCRIBE:
"Your name?"
ZAYD:
"Zayd ibn Suleiman. I wish to register a new house of trade."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Another shop? Didn't your cousin already register the carriage company under your family?"
Zayd smiled faintly. "Yes. But this will be different—luxuries for noble women. Silk, perfume, fine leather."
The scribe leaned forward, intrigued. "Then you'll need the noble quarter license. That alone costs 200 gold."
Zayd didn't flinch. He placed a sealed pouch of coins on the table. "Paid in full."
The scribe blinked in surprise, then dipped his pen in ink. "Very well. You're not the poor son of Suleiman anymore."
📍 Scene: Courtyard of the Shop – Evening
By the time Zayd returned, Qadir was collapsed under an orange tree, drinking sherbet as if he had fought a war. Layla was standing with a perfumer, discussing mixtures of rose and amber.
Qadir spotted Zayd and waved lazily.
QADIR:
"If this continues, cousin, you'll turn me into a corpse before my time."
Zayd chuckled and tossed him a pouch of silver. "Payment for today. Consider yourself a manager now."
Qadir sat up, coins spilling over his lap.
QADIR:
"A manager! Then I demand more sherbet!"
Everyone laughed again, but Zayd's mind was already elsewhere.
He looked at the glowing arches of their soon-to-be shop and thought:
Step by step. Carriages gave me gold, this shop will give me respect. And with respect… comes power.
📍 Closing Narration:
The luxury shop was rising quickly—timbers, silks, and scents all finding their places. Yet in the noble halls of Damascus, whispers spread like smoke: "Who is this young merchant buying palaces and silks without bowing to the Emirs?"
Enemies Zayd had not yet seen were beginning to take notice.
End of Chapter 49