33: beard gang
They drove into the palace silently, her hand still clasped with his. She took in a breath and stared at the route he followed, she was slightly relieved seeing he didn't followed the route that led to Mama Fulani's chamber, because she knew they had an unsettled business with Mama Fulani. They arrived at Sarauniya's chamber, which meant the Queen, Mother of the royal gem.
Fatima Zarah took in a huge breath and Al-mustapha smiled at himself before he turned to look at her, "What? Are we nervous? Perhaps, jealous a bit?" He knew he was the one that would admit being nervous first before anyone. Because by Allah he was more nervous than Fatima Zarah could ever be. May be he was agitated a bit.
There was no one he hated all his life, despised to set his eyes on more than Rahma, and now she would be his wife. He didn't even know how that was going to work out. With Fatima Zarah, their game, everything. "Ready?" He asked, getting tire dof waiting for a reply from her. She nodded her head at him and he got down from the car.
Al-mustapha walked out of the car as well, and entwined their hands together. As much as Fatima Zarah wanted to be relieved because of that gesture, she couldn't help thinking of it as fake. May be he wanted to show Rahma that he was on good terms with her. May be it was a freaking tradition he was trying to follow. She winced internally, because she had never thought this would be the way she would feel, the day Al-mustapha would set to get in a second wife.
Ammi had told her, getting her fired from work wasn't the only thing Mama Fulani would do, she thought Ammi was just saying to threaten her more, but now she had believed her. They both ignored the greetings they were getting from the maids and walked directly into the guest living room, and at the sight of the lunch prepared for them; something struck at Fatima Zarah's chest.
They walked further into the living room, and with each step taken, Al-mustapha slightly squeeze her hand. It was a decent gesture, and she liked it. She peeled her hand away from his and with her voice that was threatening to get hooked up to her throat, she stared into his face to give him the ability to look into her eyes and read her expression.
"I think we should seat on separate seats, she might want to seat by your side, right?" She asked, and she hated the way her esteem was slowly melting down to her feet. She felt as if she had no more posession of him, because the moment she saw Mama Fulani's message, she knew it was over. The fact that she was still married to Al-mustapha was a miracle to her, not that she cared. Because she would love it more if she had gotten divorced with him before he got married to this bunch of bones.
He shook his head with a faint smile, he read her expression clearly, and she was jealous and sad. "We're going to sit together, she's not my wife yet, is she?" He asked, and those words did wonders to Fatima Zarah's heart.
She wanted to take them out, lay them directly to the sun until it glistened on them and they shone brightly with glisters made naturally. Those were the soothing words she had ever heard him uttered, even though in his part, she knew he didn't say that to cool her off. She shook her head at him stubbornly, because she could now hear the sounds of maids praising Rahma as she approached the living room.
"She's coming over in any second, I think we should just seat separately." She moved to sit over on a sofa when Al-mustapha held her by her wrist and she lost her balance, falling onto his chest.
He steadied her and wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her to him more. He leaned onto her ears and whispered, "I think I need you to stay by myself, in some strange ways; you calm down my aggresiveness. And...I miss feeling you on my body." Melt. She wanted to tell herself. But what was happening to her today? One touch from him, all her skin pores stood, one word from him, she felt herself slowly melting like a shea butter. May be because she was sad and she could feel him slowly walking away? And as much as she hated to share, she was going to share him now.
"Ranka ya dade! (May you live long!)" They both heard the voice of the maid that had escorted Rahma to the living room. Fatima Zarah was so fast at peeling her body off from him and he was as calm as Al-mustapha could ever be. He guided her to the sofa he wanted to seat and she sat by his side, while having him clutching her hand.
Rahma took her eyes off from their hands and she found herself a spot and sat down, there was a smile on her face. Even Al-mustapha that still haven't mastered the art of human body language, he knew the smile was painted. Somewhere, there was an invisible colour and brush by each side of her cheeks. She took her eyes off from him and ducked her head down.
Fatima Zarah nudged his shoulder and he leaned down to hear what she wanted to say. "You're the one that's supposed to start up a conversation, Al-mustapha. Start by greeting her first, how she is and all." She knew he didn't know how to do it, and sitting here in silence will only add more to the awkwardness eating up every CO2 (carbondioxide) they had exhaled. He looked into her eyes as if he was trying to see her sincerity, and she nodded her head at him.
"How are you, Rahma?" That came like a bolt, because Rahma had never imagined him to say something close to this. She knew him all her life, like she opened her eyes to him in the palace. She had crushed on him more than she had ever done. Like she had never crushed on any guy before. And slowly, it turned to love. But no matter how she would talk to him, he had never for once spoke to her or even called her name.
She loved the way her name sounded on his lips, so perfect that even the Sultan didn't voice it out correctly. She nibbled on her inner cheek to avoid her blush from creeping out, reminding herself that he was seated beside his wife, and her hand was clutched in his, while he carelessly played with her fingers. As if that was something he was used to doing all his life. She gulped down a lump in her throat and looked up at them.
"Good Afternoon, Yaya Prince. I'm fine." She knew she had to greet Fatima Zarah, but that was something she wasn't ready to do. Like she can't be that obedient knowing it will only be a matter of days and she would be the one seated by his side and her hand will be the one clutched into his. She felt within at just the thought of that.
"I though you are to greet her, Rahma?" He asked, completely ignoring the greetings she sent his way. He could feel the way Fatima Zarah was nudging at his shoulder. Without looking at her he knew that she wanted to tell him to stop that, but there was no way he could. He might not know what was right, but he knew royally she had to greet Fatima Zarah.
Rahma groaned silently, she knew Al-mustapha so much, may be even more than her own siblings. And she knew what he was capable of doing and now. And if she didn't greet Fatima Zarah as he said, there would surely be a fire on the mountain. And by Allah she had looked up to this meeting ever since she knew she had reached the stage of marriage, with Al-mustapha seated across the living room and he came for her. What she just didn't planned out was him seated together with another woman by his side.
"Good Afternoon, Fatima..." she knew of the fact that Fatima Zarah hated to be called that, but she can't just greet her without atleast riling her up.
To her surprise, Fatima Zarah smiled subtly before she spoke, "Fatima Zarah please, that's the name. And, I'm fine, I hope you are?"
With a soft groan, she looked at Al-mustapha and he wasn't even paying attention to her. "Yes, I am. Thank you for asking." This had to be the most torturous meeting she would ever have in her life.
Fatima Zarah sat upright and looked at him for brisk moment before she turned her eyes back at Rahma, "As you know, my husband, oh sorry; our husband isn't much of a talker. I'll do most of the talking today. But before that, he just gets back from work and we were told that we have our lunch prepared here, can you please ask one of those maids to serve the meal?"
Rahma looked at Al-mustapha and waited for him to say otherwise, but he just nodded his head absentmindedly, while doing whatever it was in his phone. She wanted to pluck out her heart and have it cool down for some minutes, but that wasn't possible. She flashed Fatima Zarah a grimmed smile and called out to the maids. They rushed in and she ordered them to serve all of them separately.
"No, one plate is enough for us. Just add a little bit of the quantity, okay?" Fatima Zarah informed the maid, and she bowed her head and did as she said. She placed the plate on the table by her side and put on the drinks and cups.
"You need to set that phone down, Al-mustapha. You're the one that has come for this lady, not me." She whispered into his ear, and he smiled before he squeezed her hand a bit, she chuckled.
From where Rahma sat, how close they seemed and how he had leaned more to her side, by Allah she thought he had kissed her and that wa why she chuckled. She watched, despite having her plate placed before her as Fatima Zarah put the food between them and when he took the fork, she collected it and shook her head at him. "You can't eat masa with a fork or spoon or whatever, Al-mustapha."
"But I don't know how to eat without a spoon," he replied, he had totally forgotten about Rahma that was seated barely five feet away from them. This was a dangerous game he was playing, even though he was glad she was going with the flow, he couldn't help being afraid of what might happen. Even though he was certain he would win, this time.
"Then I'll feed you with my hands. Will you please provide me a bowl with water?" She ended her sentence at a maid and she nodded her head before she disappeared into god knew where. It took barely two minutes before the maid came back and Fatima Zarah washed her hand throughly before she looked at him with a teasing smile.
"Mind you, Al-mustapha, this is my favorite meal. I'll take two scoops and you'll have one, You aren't even that hungry, are you?"
"Fatima Zarah, will you just feed before this aroma fills my lungs already or I should resort to using my forks?"
"No! I'll feed you, but don't you dare bite my fingers, okay?" She chuckled and scooped the meal in her hand, taking it to his mouth.
"Say okay before I give it to you."
He made a face that made her laugh and his 'okay' got muffled with the meal. She smiled genuinely at him, because by Allah he had never looked this cute. With a whining face and a food in his mouth, and well...his second wife sending them looks that Fatima Zarah was sure if looks had the ability to kill, she would have already rotten in her grave. She fed herself next and then fed him the next, laughing heartily. Because whenever he wanted to say something, she shun him with the food.
❀
They were done seeing the royal gem, and before they left Rahma wanted to pluck her eyes and wash them off the intoxicants she had seen when they were there. Even Fatima Zarah that was doing everything delibrately, she knew it did not only affect Rahma, it did things to her heart. The looks he kept flashing her while she fed him. How when she wanted to feed herself he would divert her hand and geed himself instead, while laughing mischievously at her. His rough impromptu side hugs, the forehead kiss when she was done feeding them both. She knew he did that just to rile Rahma up, but by Allah it did things to her.
She glanced over at him from where he stood in the drivers seat as they drove silently back home. She smiled at herself, because the look he had on his face while he drve silently amazed her. Like he was a new person in to her today. Completely new. Someone she had never seen before.
"What are you looking at?" He asked out of the blue moon, and she took her eyes off him with aplomb. She smiled shyly and shook her head.
"Nothing. The road, I'm looking at the road." She stuttured, looking away from his face completely.
He laughed and shook his head, clearly showing he didn't believe what she just said. "I can't remember having the road on my face. Tell me what you were looking at, Fatima Zarah."
She palmed her face and smiled beneath her breath. "Okay, I was looking at your face, is that what you want to hear?"
He slightly turned and their eyes met for a brisk second before he turned his attention back at the road with a smile on his face. "What is there on my face that you're looking at so intensely like that? Perhaps it looks like the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? The handsomest face ever?"
She didn't know when she threw her head back and laughed, like god! She had never expected to hear something close to this from Al-mustapha. How did he even know how to say something like that. She quickly shook her head with the remains of her laughter as she turned to look at him. "Your face isn't even that fine for it to be the most handsomest face I've ever seen. I was just looking at your..."
"My beard? Do you love it that much? I've once seen you taking stolen glances at it!" He exclaimed, swerving the steering wheel while looking at her chuckling face from his peripheral view. He loved the way they both pretended as if nothing had happened between them, as if she hadn't revealed his darkest secret to the world. And they haven't even spoke about him being a Psycho-Prince.
"Well..." she trailed off, thinking of the perfect words to use that she wouldn't give too much away. "That too, a bit. But I was looking at your eyes, how serious they seemed while you focused on the road. That's just it."
"Are you sure? That's just it, Drakaina?" He now turned, because they had stopped in a traffic. And his eyes accidentally fell directly into hers. His eyes had never did something close to unnerving to her soul. But today, the red in the mahogany felt like a spill of blood and the brown in them was a shed of something she couldn't decipher. She took her eyes off.
"What's the meaning of this Drakaina? I don't like you calling me this name. You once called me that, right?"
He nodded his head with a boyish smile and drove ahead, "It means a Dragon, even though I don't see you as a woman I was kind enough to call you as a female dragon; Drakaina. And it fits you so well, you know?"
She stared at him even though he had his attention focused on the road, but she was sure he knew she was looking. "That way, I will burn your heart, your soul and this beard that strikes at my heart as well!" She exclaimed with a whining voice and her fingers involuntarily moved up to his beard and she massaged it for a bit.
She was even more shocked than he was, because if someone was to see them at the situation they were now, no one would ever deny them being helplessly in love with each other. With their smiles and her fingers playing softly with his beard. Something she had never imagined to do. But today, she got so much attracted to his beard than the lips she loved on him. And the 'this' they provided.
He silently drove into the house and she still wasn't able to take her hands off his beard. He parked in the parking lot and that was when Fatima Zarah began taking her fingers off his beard but he held her wrist and turned to look at her.
"Are you already done admiring the beard you're going to burn, Drakaina?"
"Don't call me that," she whined. "We're home." she stated, looking around the courtyard through the window.
"But I've been wanting to do this, since at the palace," he whispered, staring directly at her lips.
"Do what? We need to enter, Al-mustapha." She tried getting out of his hold.
"No, we don't need to enter, Fatima Zarah. But I need to kiss you." Finally, 'this' is a word now. And slowly, he merged their lips and even though it had just been a few hours since she had last kissed him, she missed kissing him so much that she didn't know she did until she tasted his lips again.
Y'all should've reminded me that I forgot to update for two days na! I forgot 😅 but here's 3 chapters as a compensation 💕
We have only two more chapters to go before we stop on the preview chapters. Meanwhile, both part 1 & 2 (complete) of the book can be found on okadabooks and selar.