Ramadan Kareemmmm✨
This is my last update. I'll see you after Ramadan in shaa Allah.
Allah ya karbi ibadun mu. Ameen ya rabbi.
Include me in your prayers please, as well as our deceased brothers and sisters💕
Na barku Lafiya.

KUBI CALIPHATE.

"I have to admit though, I am quite surprised you turned up this early." Asma confessed, turning her head to look at Tareeq, who has settled down on the chair beside her—now rid of the gears he had on when he was practicing his shooting earlier. "How did you manage to get past your brother that easily?"

"Easily?" He repeated, giving her a look that asked if she truly asked him that with an arched brow, before he huffed out a breath and added. "Let's just say he thinks I am here because of Karima." He shrugged.

"But you are." She stated, because it is an honest fact. "Though you are partially here to see his wife as well." She added lightly with a tease.

But Tareeq being Tareeq simply gave her a pointed look, one that had her huffing out a breath and rolling her eyes.

"You are no fun." She muttered, repeating the same words she had told him one too many times already in the past.

Tareeq huffed out a breath, before he fixated his gaze on her, his expression serious. "How can you still be in the mood to joke around like this?" He asked, genuinely curious as to how she can appear unbothered and chill at times like these. "If I did not find out the Calipha was sick and told you, things would have already been too late. I thought you had people here, how come no one informed you?"

Thankfully Giwa had made Asma and Amir Qasim stay back when he got the call, otherwise it would have been difficult to find a chance and share the news with her. Even then, he had to resort to a phone call because approaching her was not something they are supposed to do—not just because of Amir Qasim, but because there were too many prying eyes in the palace.

The least people Asma interacted with, the better—and especially not someone as valuable to her like Tareeq. That is why he is better left as a foe to her in front of them all, and they were strangers.

"I have things under control here." She breathed out, calmly. "Baba Waziri and the first Queen will have Baba out safely, and I will handle the rest of the things here."

"Alone?" He gave her a pointed look, before he huffed out a breath. "Why are you in such a rush? I told you, it is best if we let Qasim handle this, he has been following up on your brother for the longest time. Only he can handle this well." He supports her, sure.

But, he had always advocated for letting Amir Qasim handle her brother—she could handle everything else, just not her brother.

But she was stubborn as always. Especially as she met his gaze, and then said. "I have evidence now." She confessed. "Pretty solid evidence that would put an end to him and his ways."

"Then give it to Qasim."

"Do I look like a fool to you?" She arched a brow, her calm expression faltering as her tone turned pointed. "Do you think I would trust your brother with something as crucial as this? With the way he has treated me?"

Tareeq sighed, running a hand down his face. His brother and Asma were not making his life easier in the slightest—and he did not sign up to become torn in between them. After a few seconds, his shoulders slumped before he found her gaze. "Amir Qasim is an asshole." He would not deny that—especially not after the stunt he pulled earlier.

She nodded. "Thank God you know."

"But your brother is not just an asshole, but a psychopath." He added, laying out bare what they already know. "And right now, our best choice, is indeed your asshole of a husband." He knew Asma well, the only way to get through to her is through the language she understands best. "He has authority, and his whole law firm behind him. Not your brother, even the most powerful in the country, he could apprehend them if he wants to. He has been after your brother long before you even started, and right now, he is as close to getting to the finish line as you are. And the only difference? He can walk out unscathed, you cannot."

"I can handle this myself." She pressed, unwilling to back down. Then, she swallowed a lump, and added in a smaller voice. "He won't be able to hurt me much." She would not entirely rule it out, but she was not fragile. If she would get what she wants at the end, then she could handle whatever would come her way.

To Tareeq though she was speaking pure nonsense, and he could only stare at her with a pointed look. Then, he asked. "Do you know how many maids he had assaulted since you left the palace and moved to Sokoto?" He asked, his tone calm though he was anything but.

Asma's eyes narrowed, knowing she would not like where this was heading to.

"Seven." He answered, regardless of her apparent dislike towards the topic. "Qasim investigated it after our conversation the other day, and seven maids have fell victim of your brother—adding to the list. Do you really think you could walk out unscathed?"

She swallowed down a lump, her mind tracing back to her conversation with him in Sokoto—the already planned coded conversation that took place. They intentionally had that conversation, with those choice of words.

It was simple. The mansion had hidden cameras.

Why? Amir Qasim obviously does not trust her in the slightest, and she decided to take advantage of it.

That promiscuous history? It was all her brother, and nothing about Tareeq. They more or less gave him another lead to follow, without having to be outright. It was left up to him to decipher it if he could, and he did.

The information about the maids in Kubi was closely guarded, almost as much as the Calipha's health information was guarded. Why? Because that was another lead to the Prince's never-ending crimes. Tareeq had no reason to share the news with Amir Qasim, because he was known as the Prince that does not get involved with Royal affairs. He does not get involved with that of Sokoto, he has no reason to get involved in that of Kubi.

And for Asma, she has no reason for going against her brother—much less to side with Amir Qasim out right.

She was not against him going after the man, but each should do it on their own. She especially will not take evidence left behind by her father and hand it to Amir Qasim—she does not have that much trust in him to do so. So, it is entirely out of the question.

"I will not get him involved in this." She said with finality, finding Tareeq's gaze with her serious one to show him how much she meant her words. "He can do what he wants, and I will do the needful on my part. If you still wish to continue helping me, then I would appreciate it. And if you do not, then that is perfectly alright. I will not ever hold it against you."

He stared at her for a few seconds, before he then said. "Helping you is my choice."

"You are going against your family by doing so though." She said earnestly. "Really, you have done so much for me over the years. You do not need to do any more." She has been meaning to tell him that, she just had not found the chance to do so until then.

Maybe it is because she could smell the finish line, and she knew this is a battle she might have to face alone so she would not drag any more innocent people into it. But truly, she felt Tareeq has done enough, he need not do more.

"I owe you my life." He said truthfully, the earnestness in his words shone in his eyes, in the way he spoke every word meaning every bit of it.

Her expression softened. "Tareeq, really..." She would have preferred it if he stopped mentioning that every time—she felt he has done more than he owes her. But apparently he was not having any of it.

"That won't ever be repaid by anything." He cut her off, knowing what she was about to say. "I will see this to the end with you. I promise. We will figure out a way through it."

Asma stared at him for a while, before she sighed, and nodded knowing there was no point in arguing with him—and besides, she will need his support more than anything. "It's late." She glanced at her wrist watch, taking note of the time. "I have left Karima at the palace alone for long enough. I need to get back."

At the mention of the woman, Asma did not miss the way his expression softened, a certain glimmer in his eyes that had her staring at him teasingly. A finished man really through and through.

"—do you want to come along and see her?" She asked, "I am sure she will be pleased to see you as well."

He shook his head, contrary to what she expected him to do. But when he parted his lips to explain why, she could only believe he was really a finished man indeed. "She must be tired; I do not want to disturb her." He said, thoughtfully. "And besides, I need to go back to Sokoto tomorrow morning—there are some things I need to help Dan Iya with."

"You're not staying?" He has only been there for a few hours, she thought he would stay longer, but apparently not.

He shook his head. "No." He confirmed. "I cannot be of much help to you here, but I can from there. I'll see how far he has gotten on your brother's case, and figure out a way to handle it once and for all before returning."

She hummed, with very little interest in anything that had to do with Amir Qasim.

Tareeq, noting her mood, then found himself asking. "Are you okay though?" He asked, and she immediately knew what he was talking about. "After what he said?"

She shrugged, "I will live." She said simply, not indulging into more details because there was nothing she could say to justify how she felt really.

And yet, as expected, Tareeq still tried to defend his brother. "I am sure he does not mean it." He tried to say, "Perhaps, just like us, he has something to hide as well."

She held back a scoff, but did not refute his statement. Truthfully, she knew Amir Qasim was hiding something—she just could not figure out what, and to what extent it could be so big. So, she chose to believe like she and Tareeq, everyone has something they are hiding.

Especially the royals in Kubi and Sokoto. Apparently life as a royal was not as easy as it appears to those outside the palace walls.

"It truly is getting late." She breathed out, picking up her phone from beside her as she got on her feet. "I need to head back now. I will see you when you're done?"

Tareeq nodded, getting on his feet as well so he was facing her. His lips formed a tight line when he then said. "Keep me posted if anything happens in the next few days, ring me up at the first sign of alarm."

Asma gave him a teasing look, and then translated his words how she saw it. "I will let you know if anything happens to Karima which I cannot handle on my own." She smiled, and then waved at him. "I will get going now. Talk to you later." She then turned around and started walking away.

But his voice came, making her halt in her steps. "I mean it." He said, his tone serious. "Shit is about to get real, so keep me posted. For both your safety."

Asma looked over her shoulder, her smile unwavering when she said. "Shit got real long ago, Tareeq." Her smile faltered for a split second. "Now, it's time to face the demons of my past." Then this time around, without looking back, she walked away from him, making a direct beeline out of the shooting range and towards her car.

He says it is the beginning, but to her, this should be the end. Shit hit the fan long ago, now, she will finally take charge of her life no matter what.

What is the worse that could happen? Death?

If so, then this would not be her first near death experience.

~*~

The next few days passed in a blur, with Asma preparing for her father's travel with Baba Waziri and the first Queen. In the mean time, she also got herself accustomed with those in the palace again—her few months absence making the place seem all new to her, but she maneuvered her way around it, taking charge of the things that were happening in the palace, and what would occur in the Calipha's absence.

Of course, she could not do it alone, so, she tried to keep her differences aside and work with the other Queens and Princess, whom although proved to be difficult to work with, all shared one thing in common—their care for the Calipha and not wanting the Caliphate to end up in the hands of her brother, though none truly believed she would not want him to inherit the throne but still. They made sure the palace continued to work in accordance, trying to maintain everything steadily so nothing would be out of place.

And true to Baba Waziri's words, in less than twenty-four hours after that discussion, he and the First Queen had taken the Calipha safely out of the country, and away from the chaos that would ensue in a while. But with the Calipha's safe travel out, and with the Prince about to make a return, Asma was too busy.

Karima, whom had resorted to spending her days lounging around the palace, as she had no task with the Princess being busy, out of the blue received a call she did not expect. She was watching Indian Hausa on her Oppo phone whose screen was half shattered at that point, but she refused to let the Princess change the phone for her when the call came through, making her whole body freeze upon seeing the caller ID.

It felt as though the blood from her body had drained as the phone vibrated in her hold, and it nearly slipped out and fell on her face if not for her quick reflex. With her heart thundering behind her ribcage, she tapped the answer button, bringing the phone to her ear with shaky hands, and then held her breath as she waited for who was on the other end to speak.

The voice then came, with one statement that made her feel as though a truck had slammed into her, knocking the breath right out of her lungs.

"Come home."

Two words, two words that would have made others yearn to return, and yet to her, it felt like her worst nightmare.

Still, Karima's body was wired to accept the instructions that came from the owner of the voice, that she did not turn the order down. Rather, with her body shaking, she got on her feet and then changed out of the outfit she was in, and quickly rummaged through the bag she came to Kubi with, looking for an appropriate change of outfit.

She found a black abaya gifted to her by Asma, and contemplated for a moment, before she decided it was the best thing she had. She changed into it, wrapping the veil around her, before she picked up her phone and slipped out of the room.

She stopped by Asma's room, wanting to inform the woman of where she would be heading to, but she was not in the room. Her lips tugged downwards, and she found herself asking around—inquiring the other maids on whether any of them had seen the Princess but to no avail. She tried calling her number but it was not going through as well, so, she resorted to sending her a message instead, hoping she would be back soon before she raised any alarms.

With that out of the way, Karima left the palace, and trekked down the familiar path leading to her home. Thankfully, it was not far from the palace, just a nearby area. However, the change in the environment was stark—the ghettos a contrast to the beautiful and picturesque palace. At one point, she had to lift the hem of her abaya lest she gets the gutter on it. After a few turns, the familiar door leading to the house came to sight.

Her heart rate spiked, and she found herself almost hesitating as she clutched the fabric of her abaya tighter. Digging her thumbnail into her index finger, she pushed away the nerves, and then pushed the rusting door open, and stepped foot inside the small house.

The moment she entered the house, she was welcomed by the sound of a goat crying, as if welcoming her back to the hell she had escaped, and along with its crying, tiny chicks walked around, pecking at whatever food they could find.

Karima walked further in, and with each step, she felt her heart thud behind her ribcage. The minute she took the turn that led to the small yard, her steps came to a halt upon spotting the familiar face that has been a nightmare to her. The woman was seated on a chair, her legs crossed and her pointed gaze set on the entrance—now on Karima whom had arrived.

But, it was not just the woman—she was along with two younger girls that resembled her quite a lot, her daughters obviously whom share the same sneer, only less taunting compared to their mother's.

Karima swallowed down a lump, her feet feeling frozen in her spot, but she did not stop there. She pushed her feet forward, accepting her fate knowing standing there. Upon reaching where the woman was, she crouched in front of her, and then hung her head low when she then said. "Ina wuni, Inna." She greeted, her voice soft, and shaky even.

Inna, her step mother, glared at her so intensely, she nearly stumbled back, but she did not. The woman did not answer immediately, rather, she kept her pointed gaze on Karima, her lips set into a tight line.

Before she could reply however, not that it seemed she had any intention of so, one of her daughter's stepped in, moving close to Karima. Leaning down, she reached out and took a hold of Karima's abaya, her lips tugging downwards into a deep frown before she then said. "Kan uba! Wallahi Inna the abaya she is wearing is so expensive. I have seen it on Instagram—it is sold over 60K." She then turned to face her mother, before she added. "A gidan uban wa ta samu kudin?"

"Ya tabbata kenan." The other sister hissed, before she scoffed, and then said. "She truly is having an affair with the Prince in Sokoto. Wallahi alamu ya nuna. My friend that works there as a maid was right all along. See, her skin is even glowing. Shegiyar, an sami duniya!"

Karima's lips fell open, her wide eyes shifting between the two, not knowing how to reply. She was at loss for words to say the least. First of all, she was stunned by the accusations, and secondly, how did her so called friend even figure out there was something between her and Tareeq?

The name need not be mentioned, she knew it had to be him. He was the only Prince she interacted with, aside from Yerima. But even he only answers her greetings when he wants to, so he is out of the picture.

Tareeq though, they have only spoken a few times. How could the news already be that absurd. Sure, she would admit, deep down, she has developed a crush on him...how could she not? But, she doubts he has any feelings for her. They have not had much interactions before they left Sokoto, and they barely exchanged a few words aside from greetings—even then, he leaves as soon as he answers it.

So, she was sure he does not like her.

Where did this absurd rumor come from then?

Her gaze eventually fell on her step mother, the bane of her worries, and the woman's glare was cold as ever. When she parted her lips to speak, Karima knew she was done for. "You shameful girl," Inna hissed, her teeth gritted when she continued. "So, after I sold you to the palace to work as a maid, you weaseled your way to get close to the Princess, and then ran off to Sokoto, ko? Now you're whoring around with a Prince?"

Karima quickly shook her head, and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes in fear. "No, wallahi Inna, I am not—"

"Shut up!" A smack landing on her face cut her words midway, followed by the woman's thunderous voice as she rose to her feet.

Karima fell back, her hand now reaching out to cradle her sore cheek as the tears that filled her eyes escaped, beginning to stream down her face. One might think after getting slapped all around when she was younger, she would get used to the woman's abuse but apparently not. "Inna..." Karima whimpered, her body shaking as she began to cry.

"Yimin shuru munfuka!" The woman yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "Shikenan I will not rest. Your witch of a mother made my life hell, and now that she is long dead, you seff want to kill me ko? Ki kashe ni da abun kunya kamar yadda kika kashe uban ki da baqin ciki."

Her words stung more than the slap to Karima, especially the last accusation she has been branded with for years, one which haunts her more than she would like to admit. Still, she shook her head, her eyes welling up with more tears. "No, wallahi Inna, I did not..." She has lost count of how many times she has said that in the past, trying to deny the accusations but it fell on deaf ears—no one willing to listen to her.

Inna snapped her fingers in front of Karima's face, then went on to say. "Open your ears and listen well, me, you will not kill me with the same shame you killed your father. I will not sit down and watch you whore yourself to rich men as you always do. I will not tolerate that. In fact, you will not go back to Sokoto again, I will make sure of it."

Karima shook her head furiously, then scrambled towards the woman on her knees, pleading. "Dan Allah Inna kiyi haquri, wallahi I did not do any of such."

"If you speak such nonsense to me again wallahi sai na tsinka miki mari, shashasha kawai." She hissed loudly; her warning evident. "It's like since you became close to that Princess, you have become more arrogant."

"Wallahi Inna kaman kin sani." Her half sister was quick to chide in, glaring down at Karima. "Now she acts like she is above us all, just because she is used to screwing royals and being their whore."

Karima stared at her sister with her tear-filled eyes, wondering how her own sister could speak so about her, something she has never seen her do but could come outright and say about her. Do they really hate her that much?

"Ah, Inna, this one is long gone o. All knows is how to follow men around. She won't stop." Her other half sister stated, leaned against the old sand walls of the house, her red lipstick covered lips set into a tight line. "If you want peace, marry her off kawai, lest she causes another shame towards our family again." Her gaze moved downwards, resting on Karima's tummy, before she added. "Who knows? Maybe she is carrying a bastard child already. That's why she is glowing like this."

Her words only acted to flare Inna's anger up a notch, her eyes red with anger as she shifted her gaze to Karima once again, her blood boiling. "Jar uba!" She hissed. "Eh, wallahi dole I must put an end to your ways today! Yau dinnan!" Then, before Karima could realize what was happening, the woman reached out and took a hold of her upper arm harshly, dragging her along with her in the opposite direction—where her deceased father used to dwell.

Upon reaching the one-bedroom sand building, Inna pushed aside the curtain that was acting as a door, dragging Karima with her into the small room before pushing her on the floor. Karima fell on her arm, her skin bruising making her flinch. But her pain was short lived when she looked up, her gaze falling on her paternal Uncle who was seated there, and beside him, an elderly man that seemed about more than fifty years of age no doubt. And along with them, five other men Karima was not familiarized with in the slightest.

He was dressed decently sure enough, but it was what she saw in front of them that made her heart skip a beat.

A bag of kola nut, some bags of sweets, and in the midst, two bundles of old one thousand naira.

Her wide eyes peeked up, glancing at the two older men then at Inna, who was smiling wickedly. And when she parted her lips to utter her next words, Karima felt her world crashing.

"Yawwa, Alhaji Yunusa, this is the bride."

Bride? Karima's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.

And as if on a mission to make her have a stroke, her Uncle picked up the naira bundles, and then placed it in front of her. "Toh Karima, this is your bride price. An daura auren ki. A yanxu, ke matar aure ce. You are now a married woman. The knot has been tied."

~*~

Asma made her way back to her room, exhausted from the day's activity. Coordinating the Princesses and getting them to work along with her was a very difficult task that seemed almost impossible to achieve, but she was finally able to get them on track. Now, all she could think of was heading back to rest, then have Karima prepare her dinner.

She thought of calling the day, but her network has been bad, she could not get a single call through so she decided to just speak to her when she returns.

Asma closed the door behind her, stepping further into the room, practically dragging her heavy feet further in. The room was dimly lit, and she could barely see anything, so she looked for the switches, and then turned it on just as she reached out to remove the veil she had wrapped over her head.

As the switches were flicked on, and the lights came, a light squeal escaped her lips, along with a prayer as she jumped back, her gaze falling on an unexpected guest seated on the chaise lounge in the corner of the room, leaned back and legs crossed as he stared at her with those familiar dull eyes that have haunted her for long.

Her body shook slightly, a shaky breath escaping her lips as she held his gaze. Then, she swallowed a lump, forcing her fear away. Parting her lips, she then called out his name. "Zayd..." She breathed out, her tone oddly calm, despite how jittery she felt on the inside and the bubbling nerves that were threatening to swallow her whole.

The Prince of Kubi, Zayd Maikano stared at her with an expression that was impossible to read—his lips set into a tight line. He did not say anything, he simply stared...in a way that was haunting, and unsettling.

But, she was used to it. His silence is merely the calm before the storm—and judging from how red his eyes were, he was furious to say the least, and she knew the reason why.

She fixed her veil back in place, and the advanced further into the room, stopping by the edge of the bed, her gaze never leaving his. "You're back." She stated.

He hummed finally, but it was anything but welcoming. "I am..." His gruff voice came, low, and taunting. "...what? Are you not happy to see me?"

Her lips formed a smile, though there was nothing genuine about it. "Do you want the truth, or do you want me to lie?"

He arched a brow at her response, before he suddenly scoffed, looking down for a split second as he chuckled humorlessly. When it died down, he then looked up and held her gaze, then said. "Well, well, well. It appeared your time in Sokoto has made you more daring."

Her smile did not waver. "I will take that as a compliment."

She saw it—she had rubbed him in the wrong way—it was evident in the way his smile fell almost immediately. His expression turned stone cold, his eyes piercing when he glared at her. "I do not like your newfound attitude." She was not this daring enough to speak back at him, and he could not help but wonder, where did she get that gut from? "Have you forgotten who you are talking to?"

"I have not." She shook her head, taking a step closer in his direction—her smile disappeared when she continued. "I am speaking to one of the people that made my life an absolute hell. What other reaction were you expecting?"

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "I thought you were just being foolish by having the Calipha taken out, but it appears you truly grew some balls as well." When she did not reply but simply held his gaze, he pushed himself to his feet, and ever so slowly made his way over to her. "It seems you have forgotten your place..." He added, his voice low.

She anticipated it. But she was not prepared for the force it came with.

In a single, fluid motion, he swung his hand out, smacking her right across the face, the impact making her fall on the floor. But, he did not flinch, not even in the slightest.

Her face stung, and she found herself closing her eyes as she released a few shaky breath—her eyes stinging with tears, but not because of the pain, but because she knew what was about to come. As she felt him crouch in front of her, she peeled her eyes open, resting her pointed gaze on him, unwavering.

Now crouching in front of her, he then said. "I am the reason you are living this life." His voice dropped with each word he utters, every sentence harsher than the last. "I gave you everything you have. You owe me your fucking life."

She swallowed harshly. "I owe you nothing." She whispered.

He reached out, gripping her chin harshly as he forced her face forward, so it was inches away from his—his eyes holding the same intensity as hers, his anger barely constrained when he then added. "Or have you let this all gotten into your head, Princess Asma?"

She swallowed down a lump, gritting her teeth so hard she would not be surprised if she caused herself harm. Her body shook with anger—her eyes glossy with tears.

He smiled, enjoying the sight in front of him. His other hand reached out to caress the spot he slapped her, one which would leave his hand print just like every other time he slapped her in the past.

His voice dropped lower, almost taunting when he added.

"Or should I call you by your real name, Nusaiba Tukur?"

***

JAR UBA!! Inji Inna😂😂😂😂

Wannan shine Ana wata ga wata.

Two cliffhangers for a whole month😂😂 Kai I'm a wicked person wai!!!

Toh toh toh TEAM I DONT LIKE ASMA I LIKE NUSAIBA😒 how do you feel hating on the person you like??? How???? nuccytm now tell me how you feel after hating and insulting yourself all this whole?🌚

Amir Qasim how do you feel??? How???

Kai akwai balai a gaba! Tirrrrrrrr 🔥 🔥🔥🔥

All of  you I've been eying you. Toh las las na the same person. How you'll find out after Ramadan. Ni I have never updated in Ramadan and I will not start now. SO PLEASE!!! Do not flood my comment section with update requests because I will not update.

Go and do your ibada. It's not the time to be reading novels yanxu. Yawwa.

Also, Sai ga Karima tayi Aure🫢🌚 toh Kai Tareeq lover boy ya zakayi Kenan tazama Matar wani??😂😂 Matar alhaji yunusa osheyyy😂😂😂

Someone  should go and check on Tareeq please I think he has been admitted in the ICU. Mun rasa Shi since the news reached him lai this.

Wai wannan shine sharrin late comer.

Toh ai hikenan

This is where I leave you guys. Ayi aramadan Lafiya.

I'll see you after Ramadan in shaa Allah 🌚

Love, Jannah Mia.

Ramadan Kareem💕✨