Lowkey wondering how yall liked the chapter when I did not like it much, ikon Allah.

Sha, anways,

Happy New Year!

May All of una find men this year, stop staying single!

Yawwa our motto has changed.

"I do not want to talk about this..." Asma said almost immediately, shaking her head as she looked away from him. Normally, she would rather have them address the situation because she prefers honesty over everything else, but she did not have the strength to have that conversation with him in the slightest.

"Then do not talk, just listen." He said, his tone showing he had no plans of keeping the conversation aside. His voice was soft, yet stern at the same time. "You spoke earlier, I listened. Now, it is my turn."

Asma still refused to look at him, hoping he really would drop it. They could discuss it tomorrow morning, but Amir Qasim was stubborn as a bull. He was not relenting in the slightest.

"Princess," He called out again, his tone firmer. "Look at me." Asma had no choice but to oblige, even though her eyes narrowed slightly. He continued regardless. "Let us solve this tonight. I do not want us both to sleep with any misunderstandings."

Communication, he meant in simpler terms. He did not want to give room for any misunderstandings between them which will stem from lack of communication. Whenever there is an issue, he wants them to communicate it through—and he will make sure of that. If they have to make it a rule between them, so be it.

Asma relented, knowing she has no choice in this. So, she did as he said—she listened, while he spoke.

Amir Qasim went on to continue, his tone firm, and sincere. "I had no idea Aidah and Hadiza came here, and caused a commotion." His gaze did not waver from hers, wanting her to see every bit of his sincerity. He would not lie to her—especially not over something like this. "But you are right, I am at fault because of how close Hadiza and I appeared. I admit, we are close, but only because she reminds me of someone I knew in the past."

Asma listened quietly, her resolve yet to crack as she watched him went about to explain. Though his last statement did pique her interest. Hadiza reminds him of someone he knew? She could not get to dwell on the thoughts when he continued.

"But, if there is one thing I can assure you, then it is that I do not have her in my heart—I never did. Thus, I never had any intentions of marrying her in the first place. Or anyone else, for now." Asma did not miss the way he added the 'for now', and perhaps, it was what she picked up the most in his statement.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she did not say a thing. Instead, she forced her lips to remain shut and allowed him to carry on.

"I also apologize for not considering your feelings about me being close to her, I will put a distance between us to avoid further misunderstandings, and stop the rumors as well. That, I assure you."

Asma could not help but wonder whether he is the same Amir Qasim she has been living with. She did not expect him to admit his faults and apologize that easily to her. No, if anything, she expected for him to disregard her feelings, or even if he does correct things, not to apologize.

And so, she could not help but ask, "How are you apologizing so easily?" She could not hide the disbelief in her tone as well.

The corners of his lips tilted upwards into the faintest smiles, it seemed almost ghost like. "Because you are my wife," He stated, as if it is the most normal thing to say between them. "If I cannot do justice to you, then how am I to be a good Sultan in the future?"

For the first time in a very, very long time, Asma saw the potential in him. She had long convinced herself that he was not cut out to be the Sultan in the slightest—anyone but him. However, in that fleeting moment, as he choose to keep his ego and pride aside and apologize to her, just so he could be fair to her, she saw him as someone befitting of being the Sultan.

Being a royal to inherit the throne is more than just pride, and intimidation. It is that despite all that, one should be down to earth when needed as well—to not let royalty get into one's head too much. It appeared Amir Qasim is not far from that path, even though he is not quite there.

But Asma did not want to acknowledge that then, lest she goes against what she has believed for over a decade, and instead chose to then say.

"You know..." She started, wrapping her fingers around the mug to warm them, "...if you keep calling me your wife so casually like that I might get used to it."

Amir Qasim held her gaze, unwaveringly when he then responded. "You should," He said, "You are my wife after all, are you not?"

She tsked, shaking her head slowly. "You are becoming way too comfortable using that title it appears." She brought the mug to her lips to take a sip of the tea before it could become cold. She hates to admit it, but he was right, the peppermint tea is indeed helpful.

His eyes turned cool, an emotion she could not quite point a finger at flicking in those orbs, before he then parted his lips to speak. "Well, I intend to go beyond just the title," His voice dropped, his tone...sultry?

She swallowed a thick lump, bringing the tea mug down. Was it just her or did the air in the room suddenly change? It felt charged, the tension brewing like tiny sparks of light.

It escalated more when he suddenly reached his hand to the side of her face, making Asma still, not knowing what exactly he was aiming for with the act. And then she felt it, his thumb on the corner of her lips, lightly swiping from the corner of her lip, down her lower lip. She could only hold her breath, scared if she breathes in the wrong way, the moment might be broken.

It just felt suddenly too intimate. But, it was gone as soon as it came.

Amir Qasim retracted his hand back, and his lips curled ever so slowly into a slight smile. "You are spilling your tea," He muttered. "Are you a child?"

His last statement broke her out of the trance, and in a desperate attempt to calm her racing heart and feign indifference, she then scoffed. "I'm anything but a child." She mumbled, because she really is not. Her age speaks for itself.

He knew that as well, because he hummed in agreement. "You are right. Being thirty, you definitely are not a child. You should be called an old woman at this age."

Her narrowed eyes snapped to him, her lips curled downwards into a deep frown. "I am not old!" How is being thirty old? Besides, she does not even look her age really, she knows that as well. She would thank her good genes for giving her a petite body that makes her look younger than her age.

"Whatever sails your boat," He dismissed, knowing it would only get on her nerves, and it did judging by the pointed glare she sent his way.

He did not retract his statement though even though he does not believe so as well. If he was not aware of her age, he would have dismissed her as someone in her mid-twenties at most—nothing about her gives away her real age. Not her face, and definitely not her body. If there is anything that gives her away, then it will be her character and mindset. Otherwise, she seems as young as one could be.

But he did not tell her that. Instead, he got on his feet, and then rounded the bed, going to the other side. Asma watched as he reached out and placed his phones on the beside cabinet, before taking off his wrist watch. It was not until he made a move to lift the duvet did her eyes dilate slightly, and she found herself asking.

"What do you think you are doing?" She thought that is the point where he would turn around and head back to his room so they would call it a night, but apparently not.

"What does it seem like?" Amir Qasim got on the bed, pulling the duvet over him. "We are sleeping of course."

"We?" She repeated, wanting him to hear how it sounded to her eyes.

He nodded, "Yes, we." His words did not falter in the slightest. "If I remember correctly, who was the one advocating for us to sleep together?"

"Yeah, but that was just to debunk the earlier rumors—"

"And it just so appears we have a hell lot of rumors to debunk," He then offered her a tight lipped smile. "Fake it till you make it." He moved closer to her, leaning his back against the bed rest. "Finish your tea, we can talk until you fall asleep."

Her eyes narrowed once again, an act she seems to be doing quite a lot that night. Then, she asked in an accusatory tone. "Why does it seem like you are enjoying this more than you should?" She dropped the empty cup on the bedside cabinet, having finished

"Am I?" He arched a brow. Before she could respond, he suddenly reached out behind her, his arm wrapping around her and then with a swift move, he pulled her to him, so her head was now resting on his chest.

Her mouth fell open. "Kassim!"

"Shush," He shushed her, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. "Let me take care of you. You are sick after all."

"I am not sick," She muttered, though she made no move to get out of his hold. "I can very much take care of myself. I have been doing so since." Perhaps, it was the exhaustion, or it was just his embrace that felt homey, but she started to feel sleepy.

He hummed, his own voice lowering as well as they eased into the embrace. "Well, I was not there before, but I am now." He then added after a few seconds, "Speaking of which, should we make it go away?"

That sleep instantly left her eyes as she peeled them open wide, and she pulled back to throw him a look. "Kassim!"

He chuckled, he actually chuckled deeply, the act making his chest vibrate, and only then did she realize he was messing around with her. She could not be in any more awe. So, Amir Qasim could actually joke? Is he the same one she knew a few weeks back because he certainly is acting different.

She thought he was going to stop there, but apparently, he can be a flirt as well. Surprisingly.

"What?" He feigned innocence. "Since we are debunking rumors, what better way is there than to have a child?" He looked way too serious saying it, Asma almost believed he was being honest. "Besides, it has been a while since there's been a baby in the palace, we could always give them one. What do you say?"

Asma has never been at lost for words, she always had a witty remark for everything, prepared for whatever side of Amir Qasim she would have to face. And yet, she did not prepare for flirty Amir Qasim, not in the slightest.

Maybe because she did not think he was capable of that?

It would have been different if they were this a cold air between them, it would have made things easier because then she is sure he is messing around. Now though, she could not be so sure of anything.

And thus, she could only stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, unable to wrap her head around it.

Flustered, she could only mutter a "You're not serious," under her breath and look away.

Amir Qasim's hand reached out to grip her chin, forcing her to look at him. His gaze dropped to her slightly parted lips, and she watched as he swallowed down a lump before he met her gaze again. This time around, unlike earlier, his eyes missed the teasing glint it had, and when he spoke, his voice had dropped octaves lower.

"But what if I am?" He murmured, his thumb reaching out to swipe across her lower lip ever so slowly. "I told you I intend to go beyond titles, Princess."

Asma could swore then that something had changed between them—and it was not just in the way he spoke to her, or looked at her. It was also in the way he called her with that title. It used to be mocking, now, it felt like an endearment sort off.

And she hates to admit that she was beginning to get used to it.

This time around, it was her turn to swallow down a lump, and then she whispered. "Kassim..." It was a whisper, and a warning as well.

He did not go off when she called him with that name, she noted as well—because it was beginning to feel natural to him either. He did not hate her calling him that.

He nodded to himself, understanding the warning in her voice, "Wrong time, got it." Exhaling a breath, he pulled back away from her, his hand leaving her chin. "Later then." And then, in a swift move, his hand took a hold of her wrist and he pulled her towards him, so she was resting her head on his arm.

But he was no longer seated, he had laid down with her head resting on his, cuddling. He left her lips part to speak, but his voice came, beating hers. "Sleep, Princess." He lulled, "It is late."

Asma's words died in her throat, but she did not pull away from him. Instead, she eased in his arms, and allowed herself to close her eyes, her tense shoulders slumping as she succumbed to sleep that came soon enough. He followed soon enough.

This time around, unlike the other time they slept in the same room, they slept in each other's arms, the wall between them crumbling without either of them realizing it because things have begin to change. For the good.

~*~

I have been struggloing to write this chapter since, and I do not even know why.

Anyways, manage this.

Amir Qasim the flirt iyyyeee, toh sannun ka.

Ni I do not have much to say today like this.

Stay safe and find men, yawwa.

Love, Jannah Mia.