Hearts On Fire

13: White Linen

She took off the hood and stared at him, he was watching from the tv that was pinned to the wall and didn't act as if there was an intruder in his room. She looked around the humungous room and when her eyes wandered back to the bed, there laid the white linen Mama Fulani spoke to them about. And with anger seething from her soul, she grabbed it into her hands and folded it before she threw it on the resting sofa in the room.

That caught his attention, and he turned to look at her with a face that had a neutral and stoic expression. "What do you think you're doing? Don't you try to get on my nerves, this night."

"You of all people should know that I won't let anything like consummation to happen between us because I haven't seen a man with him. Even if that was to happen, no one will dare take any sample or verification on that linen." She rolled her eyes at him and fidgetting with the embroideries of her thobe. She wanted to get off the thobe out of her body but there was no way she could do that, because of the dress she had on her.

He walked to where she sat and the next thing he did was something she had never imagined. He forcefully took the thobe out of her body and she sat there nearly naked before his own eyes. He threw the thobe on the sofa and looked at her with a disgusted look in his eyes.

"Do you really think you're a woman enticing enough to catch my attention? Have you ever stared at yourself in the mirror and checked the kind of looks you have which is truly a shame as a woman to have that? I'll set this straight for you once and for all, Fatima Zarah you aren't a woman in my eyes. If I'll be blunt to tell you exactly what I see you as, then a man will look better than you in my eyes. Stop worrying yourself about all these and don't get me angered this night. If you look at it this way, even the white linen is to make sure if you're a virgin, which I doubt you are one. You were the one brought into my room with such a skimky dress with the hope you'll entice me, which sadly didn't work. Don't get it twisted, you're just a miserable lady whom get herself caught into a game. Because all this, is a game, and you know. Don't think of it any other way but as a game."

He used his hand and pushed her aside, "If you'll excuse me. And for your information, these servants will be supervising us for seven days, and for those seven days you're to compulsory sleep in my room, that sofa will be your bed. There's a mirror over there, check yourself all over again and see what you've always being lied about. Turn off the light when you're done."

He didn't spared her a glance when he hopped on the bed and he brought the duvet to his chest as if nothing had happened. He was sure of her burning eyes that were unshaken on his body but he acted as if nothing had happened. He had promised her hell, but what he did today was just a preamble to what he actually planned for her. She would know that the fire she had in her soul was nothing to what he had groomed for decades in his soul. He would burn her until she was turned into ashes and he'd sacrifice her to the water gods.

❀

He had slowly on his bed and the silent knock coming from the door was what woke him up. If he wasn't the one that woke up himself and looked at the wall clock with his own eyes, he'd say that there would never be a day that he, Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido would sleep in the morning until it was 10am. He had never felt as tired as he did, yesterday.

Slowly, his eyes turned to the sofa and she was there, sleeping but there were silent whimpers escaping her lips. She was angry, he knew. And he knew she had her fire bottled up yesterday and she would unleash everything she held in today. He got down from the bed but his phone that beeped caught his attention.

'Al-mustapha, make sure you give them the white linen, we're going to showcase it today during the walima. Remember, if this white linen isn't presented, it might get in way with you having the seat of the caliphate. A sultan always has a chaste wife.'

He looked at Fatima Zarah and behind her laid the white linen she threw. He ignored the soft knocks on the door. He was sure if they didn't get an answer they'll leave an only be back an hour later. He walked to the sofa and leaned in to take the white linen when she opened her eyes. "What do you think you're trying to do?!" She asked, with an alarming voice and anger filled tone.

He hissed softly, took the linen and showed it right on her face. "This, they came for this! Unless you want them to hear your voice, you need to keep quite. And also, they'll take you to inspect your body, know what to say to make them believe. I'm warning you beforehand because even I; myself don't know what Mama Fulani would do to both of us."

He walked up to the mirror and stared at all the costumes he had there. There was a perfume that had gotten to its lowest level and he picked it up. The next thing Fatima Zarah heard was that perfume thrown to the floor by him and she was beyond freaked.

There was an alarmed tone from the door, "Good morning, your majesty. Is there a problem we need to take care of?"

"No, something slipped off. We'll be out soon." They didn't answer, because they weren't told to answer instructions like this.

Fatima Zarah watched as he picked one of the shattered glass and split his own flesh. She jerked upright and was in front of him within a second, careful not ot get her feet on the shattered glasses. "What the hell are you doing?"

He looked at her with pain evident in his eyes, "Get out of my way, take your thobe and wait until I tell you to leave my room. Else, I'll use your own blood to fill this linen." His voice was full of danger and seriousness that Fatima Zarah took a step backwards and unbeknownst to her, she placed her feet on one of the shattered glasses.

"Oh my god!" She screamed, when he looked up and saw how she knelt on her knees with her leg brought up as she inspected it, he took his eyes off and used the white linen to clean the blood gushing out from the cut he made on his hand, careful to make it look real, careless and not give an evidence that it didn't happen and they used a different new blood.

Fatima Zarah cried and clutched more to her leg, and she watched as how he calmly filled the white linen with his blood, not giving a damn about her leg or the blood oozing out of the cut the glass made on her feet.