KUBI CALIPHATE.

By the time Asma walked out of the Calipha's room, the envelope hidden underneath her abaya felt heavier than her heart did. Still, she tried to appear calm, lest any of the people outside notice anything different about her. The countless pair of eyes that fell on her the minute she stepped out felt too scrutinizing—as if she was a specimen under a microscope, observed under hawklike eyes to unravel some big scientific breakthrough.

She ignored those eyes, keeping her expression calm as she focused her attention on Waziri, her lips set into a tight line. "Baba Waziri," She breathed out, her tone though calm, was determined. "Can I speak to you?" From the corner of her eyes, she could see some of the women stepping closer to them, wanting to get something out of the conversation. So, she added. "In private." She stressed, wanting him to understand the importance.

And he did, because he gave her a firm nod. "Of course," He gestured for her to follow him, and she did. Together, they walked away from the prying eyes of the women in the royal family, who could only follow them with questioning eyes—wondering what the girl could be planning this time around.

She was always one plotting something.

Waziri and Asma did not stop until they took a few turns down an empty hallway, leading to the desolated palace—where the first Queen—Asma's mother, once resided in before she passed away. The palace has been sealed off and closed, like a part of the Calipha's heart since he lost his first wife, and no one dared to go there again.

It was the perfect place for them to speak without anyone eavesdropping, though they did not advance further than beyond the hallway. Asma came to a stop first, then turned around to look at him, her brows knitted together.

"Baba Waziri, I have a favor to ask of you, please."

He blinked, his own lips forming a frown as he wondered what she could possibly want to ask him. As far as he knew the girl, she was never the kind to ask others for anything, but rather get them for herself. Whatever she wanted, she gets it herself one way or another. When she was younger, she got it with her warmth that extended out to everyone—and she grew older and the palace became a darker place to live in, she got whatever she wanted with her wits because being nice has its limits—and she had none.

So, to hear her say she wanted something from him...he was shocked to say the least.

He recovered from it, and then parted his lips to ask. "How can I be of help to you, Asmau?"

Asma released a small shaky breath, before she gave him her answer. "I want you to help me process Baba's visa as soon as possible—with two days at most if possible." She knew if there was one person she could ask in Kubi to get any of such for her, it would be Waziri.

The reason being, he amass a massive amount of wealth—second only to the Calipha. If she dares to say, she would say he amasses more wealth than Baba does even. He may seem simple, his pockets were anything but.

He nodded slowly, understanding where she is coming from. "I was having the same thought." He expressed, "But has he agreed to get treated abroad? I have tried to convince him countless times but you know how stubborn he is. He is not budging."

"I will get him to agree by then." She said, sounding determined because she was not willing to stand back. If she says she will convince him, then she would. "I just need him as far away from this place as possible." She then added. "I have reached out to some specialists in Boston—they are waiting for him."

Waziri bobbed his head in agreement, the wheels in his head turning before he came to a conclusion as well. "I will prepare it as soon as possible." He stated, "And I will have the jet ready in three days at most—with everything processed." He ascertained, and though it was longer than Asma wanted, she gave in still. He then asked. "Will you be coming with us?"

"No." She shook her head, her lips curling downwards slightly. "Take the first Queen with you, she will take better care of him. He is much safer with the two of you there." Keeping aside her issues with them, she knew the woman would care for the older man, and she was not in the position to keep them from him either. "I will stay back here, and prepare for what would happen." She exhaled a heavy breath, her shoulders slumping.

Waziri was quiet for a bit, simply observing her expression before he spoke, when he finally got what he wanted, which she has not spoken of. "You've heard of what your brother is planning?" He asked, his voice low.

Asma swallowed a thick lump. "A coup?" She whispered, as if fearing if she uttered the words any louder it would make it more of a reality than it truly is. Her lips curled into a humorless smile. "He would not be that outright, Baba Waziri. He would wait for Baba to pass away first before he takes over."

"He has already gone after almost all the King makers." The Waziri pointed out, his words cold as his expression. "And he has a majority of them on his side. It is as if he is so sure that your father would not make it—he is making plans ahead."

"Because that's what he wants." She whispered, her heart feeling heavy as though there was something pressing it down as she spoke those words. She released a shaky breath, then blinked and found the older man's gaze. "Which is why Baba Waziri I need to have Baba as far away from here as possible, soonest, please. We cannot afford to wait any longer. If you are there, he cannot be able to do anything to him."

She wants to believe he was not bad enough to go after his own father's life. But the truth is, he is. He was willing to go that far to get the throne. He was always willing to go to whatever extent to get what he wants—because that was the way he was used to.

"If we leave..." Baba Waziri started, his words heavy as the dark clouds looming above them, threatening impending rain. "...you will not be safe either from him, nor will everyone else. He has garnered immense power here in Kubi."

"But he is not above the law." She shook her head, "I will make sure everything is fine by the time you return. Just, give us some time, and we will take care of him." The envelope underneath her dress felt heavy—the information it contain big enough to bury the Prince so he could never make it out—something the Calipha could have done personally, but he could not bring himself to be as cold as his son was.

Asma could still see the worry masking his features, so, she offered him a small smile. "It will be fine..." She hesitated for a moment, before she added. "...Uncle."

It was as if her words touched a part of him—a part he thought would never be acknowledged ever again. He had long accepted that kids grow, and they grew apart from their relatives enough to no longer care for the ties between them—instead to sticking to being formal. Her brother was another case entirely, and she, though not down the same path as him, had become impossibly cold and had withdrawn herself from everyone.

His eyes nearly teared up upon hearing her addressing him as that. Still, he smiled, a genuine one as he nodded. "Yes, I am your Uncle." He felt proud to finally be acknowledged as that, that his own niece was asking him for something for the first time in his life. At least, he would no longer feel guilty for not being able to provide for her and her brother. "And if your mother could see you right now, to see the woman you have grown into, I am sure my sister would be really proud."

Asma's lips formed a small smile, though it did not reach her eyes. Not wanting to go down that emotional story with him, she decided to return back to the initial conversation. "Please, do that for me. Help me get Baba way."

He blinked, snapping back to his serious mode as he gave her an assuring nod. "I will. I promise." He ascertained. "Your brother has traveled, and from what I heard, he was visiting another King maker—if he gets this one on board, he will get what he want. He should be back in three days at most—I will travel your father out before he returns."

She exhaled a sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping as she offered him a smile. "Thank you." She swallowed down a lump. "I would appreciate that very much." She felt as though she was able to get some weight off her shoulder with that promise.

Wazir left soon after he had concluded some information with her, going straight ahead to start processing the Calipha's safe travel out of the country. With him gone, Asma made her way back to her room, her shoulder slightly slumped as she pushed the door open, stepping into the room with a salaam.

It was answered by Karima who was waiting inside as the Princess had asked of her earlier, and by the time Asma made her way fully into the room, she realized Karima, efficient as ever, has unboxed her belongings and had placed them in the closet—everything right where it belongs so it was no longer the mess she had it in earlier.

Even her room, which she was sure was not cleaned prior by the maids, had been cleaned to perfection, with the scent of turaren wuta filling the space as it burned from one corner. Asma's lips formed a small, but genuine smile as her gaze met Karima's, and then she went on to say.

"What will I do in my life without you?" She reached out, leaning down to give the girl a half hug, before she added. "Thank you for coming back with me. I know how difficult this must be for you to return back here."

Karima, ever so eager to please Asma quickly shook her head, as she pulled away from her, her lips curling into a small smile of her own. "No, I am fine, really. You do not have to worry about me." She tried to brush it off, but Asma knew her well enough to still see the nerves in the girl's eyes.

Her smile fell, her expression hardening, knowing the reason behind the girl's expression. "You do not have to go back to your house." She said, her voice softening as she held her gaze. "If you do not wish to stay here either, you can stay at Baba Waziri's for the meantime. You will be safe there."

Karima shook her head once again, determination flickering in her orbs. "I will not leave you alone here." She muttered, before she pursued her lips forward. "Who else will take care of you if I leave?"

Asma chuckled at the look the girl was pulling, before she gave her shoulder a small squeeze, then advanced further into the room to settle down on the bed, reaching out to remove her veil which she wrapped into a hijab. "They cannot bully me here, Karima. They know what is in for them if they do." She said calmly, knowing she could easily have her way with the maids in Kubi compared to those in Sokoto.

Kubi was her turf—they could rebel at first, but she would put them in their position as soon as she wants. And quite frankly, they were the least of her concerns.

Karima knew that, but she still does not trust them enough—she feared what would happen to the Princess even more than she feared what would happen to her. "I am still staying with you." She added stubbornly, and Asma knew it was pointless to argue with her over that.

Karima could be stubborn as a bull when she wants.

So, Asma could only chuckle with a shake of her head. "Alright, my dearest Karima. Stay with me forever then, okay?"

"I will." Karima grinned, determined.

Asma decided to tease her. "I mean it, even if you marry," She feigned a pointed look. "Do not leave me for that man. Remember, you knew me first."

"I will not marry." Karima uttered, sounding way too certain as she held the Princess's gaze. "That way I would not be made to leave you." She had long thought about it—whoever she marries might ultimately take her away from Asma, and she feared that the most in her life.

So, she would stick by her side and not get married.

"I would turn old with gray hair beside you." Karima added, with a confident grin. "I would even become the next Gwamma in the palace so none of the maids would dare to go after you. I heard she is not married either, so I would follow in her footsteps."

Asma gave her a look, with a light scoff, not buying the girl's words in the slightest. "As if Tareeq would ever allow that." She muttered to herself—and though not a fan of the man, knew he was determined as a bull—with the way he hovers all over Karima, she refuses to believe the man would let her die single. Not on his watch.

Karima, not quite getting the woman's words blinked, giving her a confused look. "Sorry, I did not quite get you."

Asma offered her a smile, shaking her head. "It's nothing. Do not worry about it." She had decided to wash her hands out of their love story, letting them handle it on their own so she would not overstep. With a sigh, she then said. "You can go, unpack and rest as well. I will take a shower and a brief nap."

"And your food?" Karima inquired. "When should I bring it?"

"I'll page you when I wake up." Asma said, her tone light. "Take the bedroom beside this one—no one would bother you."

Karima left Asma alone after making sure Asma was uncomfortable, and once she was out, Asma made her way over to the ensuite to take a much-needed shower which took longer than she initially anticipated, but she did not mind. By the time she was done with the shower, she changed into a more comfortable outfit—but instead of hitting the bed to take a nap as she told Karima she would initially, she decided to head out instead, with a destination in mind.

With her phone in one hand, and her car keys in the other, Asma made her way out of her room, and out of the building, heading straight towards the parking lot where she used the remote to unlock the sleek raven Mercedes Benz A class, her favorite car gifted to her by Baba about a year ago—something she missed and was hoping to have in Sokoto with her. But since she was not one to head out there, she saw no need for it yet.

Once she had settled into the posh seats of the car, she exhaled a relieved breath of familiarity, the soft hum of the car instantly lifting her mood. As she revved the car to life, a message came through her phone, her gaze falling on the sender's ID that had her smiling.

X: Are you here yet?

Her fingers hovered over the screen as she typed her reply.

Asma: Will be there in a few.

Once she had sent that message, she kept the phone aside and reversed the car, already with her destination in mind. The car drove out of the parking lot swiftly, driving down the driveway at a speed that one would even get reprimanded for, but no one dared to say a thing to the Princess knowing she influence she wields in the palace.

Especially not with the Calipha backing her up.

The gates were pulled open even before she reached there, not wanting to keep her waiting and Asma appreciated that because once she was out of the palace gates, she was down the road, as though she was on a racing track. The sun had long set, and it was shortly after Isha prayers, and yet, the roads of Kubi were busy as ever.

Asma knew the streets of Kubi like the back of her hand however, and thus knew how to maneuver her way down the roads without stopping, only slowing down where necessary. The speakers light hummed with the sound of the song she had played from her phone connected to the car, one hand steering the wheel and the tinted windows not giving those outside the chance to tell who was in the car.

Only the plate number belonging to the royal family spoke of who the driver might be, but the influence was there—the aura the car itself gave off, was commanding.

Soon enough and about three songs later, Asma was pulling up at her destination, parking her car beside a familiar G-Wagon she was used to seeing in Kubi. Stepping out of the car, she closed the door behind her, and the advanced further into the private shooting range, which as she stepped inside, she was welcomed by the distant sound of a gun going off, the person she was there to meet no doubt polishing up his shooting skills that needed no polishing really.

She would admit however, her heart did beat quicker each time the gun goes off, but she pushed against it, advancing further till she spotted her target. Thankfully, by the time she reached there, he had spotted her from the corner of his eyes, and had stopped what he was doing. Instead, he was taking off the ear muffs and the safety goggles.

"This..." Asma started once she was close enough, gesturing to him and the shooting range at large. "...is so like you. Really."

He did not spare her a glance, as he dropped the gun with a heavy thud, then reached out to remove the black hand gloves he had on. "And you, have a thing for nearly giving someone a heart attack?"

"Me?" She gasped, feigning offended as she placed a hand were her heart is, her mouth falling open. "Never." She shook her head, moving to settle down on a chair, crossing her legs as she leaned back, so she was facing him. "But you're fast, I admit. You arrived back in Kubi not much longer after I had. Lover guy much?"

"Don't ever say that again." He said, pointedly as he pulled off the gloves on one hand, moving to take off the next. "Your husband will have my head if he ever hears that."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Ne me parle pas de cet homme." She hissed under her breath, annoyance brewing with her. She then added, barely containing the anger bubbling in her. "Il est un encore plus grand connard que je ne l'avais jamais pensé! Absolutely unbelievable."

He hummed. "You're not much better." He said, no longer wishing to pick any sides between them. "Weren't you playing with his emotions as well?"

Asma's eyes narrowed at his back, her lips pursued. "Oui, mais je commençais à lui faire confiance à nouveau." She had long accepted she had developed the habit of ranting in French when she was upset, just as she was doing in the moment.

"Tone it down with the language." He finally took off the other gloves, then added. "Je t'ai appris après tout." He finally turned around to find her gaze.

Their gazes locked, and Asma could only give him a pointed look, though there was years' worth of familiarity between them that this was just another one of their usual bickering—away from the show they put on.

The show between her, and X.

Between she, and Major Tareeq Muhammad Haroon.

~*~

Ne me parle pas de cet homme: Don't mention that man to me.

Il est un encore plus grand connard que je ne l'avais jamais pensé: he is an even bigger asshole than i ever thought.

Oui mais je commençais à lui faire confiance à nouveau; yes but i was starting to trust him again.

Je t'ai appris après tout: I taught you after all.

YOU DID NOT SEE THAT COMING!! I AM SURE.

WHY? BECAUSE I DID NOT SEE IT COMING AS WELL. I was like what the hell? Daymmmmmmmm alright.

X is Tareeq??? Tareeeq o!! But think about it, he was defending Asma like that and getting all upset after what Kassim did, there had to be something up though.

But thisssssssss. HMMM!!

Guys, what happens in Kubi, STAYS IN KUBI! This is our little secret.

While we are on that, abi we should tell him Karima wants to die celibate? She no wan marry again lolssss. 

He would flip. I am sure he would.

But wait hold up--someone should give me Qasim's number, I deleted it after he made us angry. I should come and tell him wetin his bros dey do behind his back. Being all cozy with Asma???

I thought you guys disliked each other.

Ha!!

Toh Baba, I hope you actually make it out alive. Rumor has it on the street that the author of the book is wicked. Hmmm I wonder why they say that.

Guys I dey try for una now, update yesterday and today, ah ahnnnn.

True true it's because I hope you know I do not update in Ramadan? The moment Ramadan comes that's a month without update--abeg dey include me in your prayers.

I will try to give an update or two before then. But if I get enough comments to motivate me, I might try sooner to write.

Also, wetin I do una? Ko dan tagging innan a Instagram babu? Abi we don fight? 

We have 73k views, there are lots of you here. Abeg make una repost this book and tag me now. 

We should have another Q and A on this book soon, but I have another plot twist to drop in a chapter or two, so the conversation would be better than.

Alright I have said enough. This is where I leave you.

Stay safe and dey ponder this plot twist. After Jannah Mia na who?? No one. That's right. No one fit send you to therapy like this.

Aishatu XX might though--look out for her. She's also a wicked writer. The good kind though.

Toh bye bye bye.

Those who get men go and tell them we love them.

The single pringles, ehen...VALENTINE IS COMING, WHERE IS YOUR BOYFRIEND?

ABOUT A MONTH AGO, HE SHOT HIS SHOT, AND YOU IGNORED.

ODOYEWUUUUU 

WHERE IS YOUR BF? YOU ARE SITTING AT HOME, YOU ARE SO LONELYYYYYYYYY.

YOUR MATES ARE GETTING FLOWERS, YOU ARE HERE UPSET AT QASIM. 

Even he must bring us gift. Tam go and be hating men.

Stay safe and in love please,

Love always, Jannah Mia (I'm also single smh).