By the time Asma woke up for Subh prayers, Amir Qasim was nowhere in sight even though it was his alarm that woke her up. Regardless, she discarded the thought of him aside, relieved she does not have to see his face that early in the morning and then went about to pray, and after going through her routine prayers and dhikrs, went back to get a few more hours of sleep so as to prepare for the day to follow.

As usual, the next time she woke up was around nine in the morning, and yet again—Amir Qasim was nowhere in sight much to her relief. She could only deduce that he has been out of bed for hours, and has not returned yet. At least, so she thought initially until she saw the outfit he had on the night before in the laundry, and she then deemed it that he had already showered and stepped out for the day ahead.

She did not bother to spend another second in his room though as she made her way back to her room to shower and get ready. Going through her morning routine felt the same as always, and by the time she was done and dressed up for the day, she stepped out, descending the stairs with one destination in sight—the dinning room to get her breakfast.

What she did not expect however, was that the very minute she stepped foot in the dinning room, she was met with the sight of a familiar figure which she could recognize even by simply staring at his back. Her eyes narrowed almost immediately, but she tamped down her brewing annoyance, and then proceeded further into the room.

"I thought you had pulled up one of your many disappearing acts," She said, as she pulled the chair to his right back, and then settled down 0n it—not missing the absence of the maids that were usually around to serve her.

Is this how he has his food then? She wonders, because it is the first time they are eating together like this. He always leaves before she wakes up, and his lunch is always delivered to him wherever he is at that moment. For dinner, their times just never cross either so she does not know how he eats, nor does she care to know truthfully.

When he did not reply, not that she was expecting it really, she then found herself adding. "Good morning, Husband." She intentionally dragged the later word, as she made a move to open the food warmer so she could serve herself. The breakfast seemed more traditional today, and she zeroed her mind on the masa, one of her all time favorites.

Once again, Amir Qasim ignored her.

She did not relent as she picked up a plate, and then began to serve herself. "Had a good night sleep?" She inquired once again, as if the silence was not evidence enough that he does not want to speak to her—she does not care. She wants to get on his nerves this blessed morning, only then shall her day be well.

And it was that statement that earned a response from him. "How could I when you are still existing?" He grumbled, without so much as sparing her a glance, though he was very much aware of her presence.

Just as he was the night before. He was not lying though—he did not get a good sleep. He was torn in between staying to avoid his father's wrath and not wanting to be anywhere near her. And as if to make matters worse, she just had to put on that damn perfume of hers.

Amir Qasim was not one to take note, or interest in any woman. He has not taken an interest nor cared one bit a woman since his Fulani, and he promised himself not to. No woman is worth a second glance from him, much less enough to have him take note of anything about her.

But this woman and her damn perfume and its scent. He did not like it in the slightest.

Even in that moment, it was the perfume that announced her presence before she made herself known, and Amir Qasim had to force himself to stay seated and finish his breakfast and not storm out and leave the place all for her. It was suffocating.

Asma, as if knowing what is going on in his mind, though not entirely and is unaware of his reasons for saying so, still snickered under her breath. "Might as well get used to it then," She breathed out, turning her head around to face him as she flashed him a tight lipped smile, which he still did not lift his eyes up to stare at her, "You are not getting rid of me any time soon."

Amir Qasim did not say anything to her, and instead calmly went on to continue eating his food. Asma shifted her attention back to her food as silence settled upon them. And after scooping enough miyan taushe to her liking, she then poured herself her cup of tea before she dived into the food.

She relished the taste of masa right from the first bite, it has always been one of her favorite traditional dishes, anyone that knows her knows of that so she did not hesitate to dig into it, forgetting all about Amir Qasim for that moment. However, somewhere, half way through it, she suddenly froze midway, her brows drawing in.

Dropping her next bite down, she shifted her head to the side as she coughed, having almost choked on the food. In an attempt to push it all down, she brought the tea cup to her lips, and then took sips from it, letting the hot tea wash down her throat and push down the lump of food obstructing her airway.

Momentarily, she got rid of the issue, and released a small sigh of relief. But then, just as she attempted to reach out and take another bite of the food, she suddenly began to feel breathless, almost as if her airways were forcefully closing, and not because of choking this time around, but for a whole other reason.

Her eyes stung with unshed tears as one of her hands moved to the place where her heart is, and she coughed, her body suddenly hot and breathing becoming a difficult task. Mustering the little strength she could at that moment, she tore her gaze in the direction of Amir Qasim who calmly continued to eat his food, as if unaware of her predicament when he very much is.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, though she could feel herself slowly starting to hyperventilate. Managing to part her lips open, she then croaked the word out. "What..." She could not recognize her own voice, it sounded too foreign, and too hoarse to her ears. "...what...did...you...do...." Speaking itself was a struggle, a huge one and her entire limbs were starting to run cold, as if her blood was draining from her.

Amir Qasim calmly took the last bite of his food, still not sparing her a glance. And once he had swallowed it all down, his voice then came, calm as ever, unbothered and nonchalant. "I warned you before, did I not?" Dropping the spoon in his hand down, he turned flicked his gaze to meet her now red eyes, glossy with unshed tears and barely grasping onto the few breaths she could muster on her own. "Do not play cheap tricks on me," He stated, his voice low.

Getting on his feet, he took a few steps in her direction, so he was towering over her figure, staring her down. His voice then came once again, low, so only she could hear. "I am not someone you should mess with, Princess." His eyes did not waver from hers in the slightest, no ounce of remorse nor pity in it. "Next time, I will not be so kind." His eyes narrowed, and after giving her one last look that spoke volumes, he then turned around and calmly strode out.

"Kassim..." She wheezed out, attempting to get on her feet but her knees were far too weak, they gave out on her almost immediately, and she accidentally knocked the tea cup beside her, so both she and the tea cup were sent crashing on the ground, breaking into instant pieces.

And through her blurry eyes, she watched as he left, while she slowly lost her consciousness, her entire body flaring and her airways closing entirely, till she could no longer keep up, and ended up fainting out cold on the floor, her body ceasing to move entirely, and her breathing turned shallow.

~)*(~

The minute council meeting ended for the day, and Amir Qasim stepped out after exchanging pleasantries with almost all of the dignitaries there—those on his side and those holding up fake smiles, he made his way over his awaiting care. Khalifa who was waiting by the back door opened it for him, and Amir Qasim settled in the back of the Land Cruiser, Khalifa got settled in the passenger seat and then the driver started to drive off, zooming off the praises from the fadawa from outside.

The Sultan does not reside in the actual palace, but rather his home which serves more like the palace at the moment. However, all council meetings and official ceremonies takes place in the real place, which is where Amir Qasim is departing from now.

"Let us stop by the polo club first," He said in a low tone as he leaned back on his seat.

The driver nodded in understanding. "Angama ranka ya dade." He expertly maneuvered lanes, taking a U-Turn before driving in the direction that would lead to the polo club.

Silence ensued for a few moments after that, Amir Qasim's attention focused on his phone as he went through important messages from work. He plans to spend a short while at the polo club to check on something, before returning to work and later head home.

That silence was cut short though when Khalifa's voice suddenly came, low, and holding a certain edge Amir Qasim could not comprehend much at first—or he just chose to feign ignorance. "Sakina arrived in time," The man breathed out. "If she was late a few minutes more..." Khalifa paused, glancing at the rearview mirror, his gaze settled on the unbothered man still on his phone. "...the Princess might not have made it."

Amir Qasim's expression did not falter in the slightest. "There is no need to report such unimportant information to me later on." He said, his voice calm and nonchalant as he typed away on his phone—replying the message that came through.

Khalifa's brows drew in, and unable to help it, he found himself looking over his shoulder so his gaze could fixate on the man. "This is serious, Yerima," He said, his tone low, but holding enough seriousness to show the gravity of the situation. "She could have died."

"But she did not." Amir Qasim did not even bat an eye lid, speaking as though he was conversing about the weather or something.

"But she could have," Khalifa still pressed, urging his friend to see the gravity of the situation. "If Sakina was late a few minutes more, we would have been talking about a different thing now."

Amir Qasim took in a sharp, almost annoyed breath before he finally flicked his gaze up to meet Khalifa's, and then he arched a brow. "Why do you sound so worried?" He asked, "So what if she died? She brought it on herself."

Khalifa swallowed down a lump, exhaling a harsh breath as he stared at Amir Qasim, almost pleading with him to understand the situation. "Yerima," He breathed out, trying to stay calm. "Scaring her is one thing, threatening her is another, and actually playing with her life is another thing. This could have ended badly." Khalifa though normally unbothered by anyone and anything, was the one most worried about this, and for valid reasons.

He could not help but wonder if he is the only one seeing things clearly, and whether hatred has truly blinded the Prince.

They can threaten and mess with people, but killing was never an option, or even a thought.

Not to mention, Asma Maccido is not just any ordinary person. She is not just someone that can be killed, and peace would continue to reign.

Her existence in Sokoto Caliphate itself is a ticking bomb. If anything should truly happen to her, not only could they not live with their consciousness, but no one can tell what would happen between the two Caliphates.

Amir Qasim should know this better than anyone. Why the hell would he go this far to teach her a lesson?

The man is way too calm for Khalifa's liking, even more so when he calmly leaned back on his seat, held Khalifa's gaze, and then asked in the calmest tone ever. "Is she dead, Khalifa?"

Khalifa frowned. "No, but--"

"Then I do not want to hear a thing about these irrelevant information again." He breathed out, his tone laced with finality. "She needs to learn her lesson sooner or later to not go around messing with people. This is just the beginning."

Khalifa wanted to say something further to argue, but the look on the Prince's face told him he would not listen, nor does he intend to. So, he exhaled a breath, then turned around and settle on his seat, choosing silence. At least, for a short while before he then added his last statement. "She would be out at most for hours, but the doctor said she be okay in forty-eight hours at most." Then, he added in a small voice. "Hopefully she will be well then."

Amir Qasim, having heard his words clearly flicked his eyes close, his arms crossed over his torso as he relaxed in his seat with one thought swirling in his mind.

This is only the beginning for the woman. She may have survived now, but there is no certainty for next time.

Next time, she might not be so lucky.

~*~

HMMMM!!

WAI WAI WAIII *In Tafida's voice*

Wetin do hot like this, iye Kassim? Miye haka?

We are now after each other's lives ko tausayi babu? You called us irrelevant fa, gaskiya baa mana adalci ba.

Amma ba komai. Let my girl regain consciouness, sai mun rama gaskiya. Why is your life like this? Daga wasa sai neman kisa kuma?

Ni wagga abu yafi qarfi na. 

Who said they would cool down? Na fire on the mountain o. In fact, na petrol them add like this because tfffff.

Alright alright...

People, give me fifty comments at least, and you will get your next chapter by tomorrow or the day afterwards in shaa Allah.

Else, I am hoarding my chapters like this. I deserve comments too now, let me know your thoughts.

Toh na barku lafiya. Morale of the story, no eat wetin your enemy give you...you might get killed too.

Stay safe and avoid love because love is wicked (Asma Maccido can testify ha!!)

Love, Jannah Mia.