Chapter 2 - FEISTY

OMNISCIENT

Emir's Palace, Kano,
Nigeria.

The convoy soon arrived at the palace, the huge golden gate was pulled open and the fleet of cars reduced their speed as they passed the huge water fountain. Zafeer took in every inch of the palace, everything that changed when he was away. It was still early in the morning so he figured out they might be having breakfast at the dining hall.

"To the west wing," He ordered, the chauffeur muttered something through the Bluetooth device on his ear and the cars drove to the west wing. The west wing consists of the dining hall and princesses' chambers.

Upon his arrival, the gigantic iron gates were opened and his eyes instantly met with many palace guards and armed security guards in black, he was now convinced that all of them were present. The fleet of cars parked and immediately the door was opened for him, the guard knelt and started singing praises while others joined.

The amount of respect given to the royals is one of the major reasons why people love royalty and also what causes the natural arrogance that comes with the aristocrats, especially the Baghdads. Even the king would not stand against his son when it comes to arrogance and he knows that Zafeer is a very stubborn person, he doesn't stop until he gets what he wants.

He stepped inside the dining hall, only to meet the eyes of everyone, they were eagerly waiting for him. Harith Baghdad, like the king he is, calmly sipped his Frappuccino even though he was unable to hide his smile.

"Good morning, dear brother, it's been long since I set my eyes on you," Junaid Haroon Baghdad quickly stood up and embraced his cousin-brother or rather, his best gee.

Prince Junaid Haroon Baghdad is the only male royal who is hyperactive and down to earth, he always cheers people up even in serious moments. He is flirtatious, everywhere he goes, he ensures he makes a girl's heart beat faster but he is not a player, he is a lawyer.

Junaid also takes care of his cousin's real estate business and the whole family goes to Saudi Arabia to visit him at least five times a year, sometimes even more. He is tall with curly jet-black hair like his father's, hazel orbs, a long nose, reddish-pink lips, and honey-caramel skin.

"Stop being so dramatic, you came just two months ago," Zafeer rolled his eyes.

"Welcome to Nigeria, Brother," Turad, his immediate younger brother, flashed him a boyish grin.

Prince Turad Ibn Harith Baghdad is half-Arabian, just like his brother but he has long raven hair, hazel orbs, honey-caramel skin inherited from his father, a long nose, and small pink lips. He is social and nice, but that only applies to his family and very close friends, he also smiles a lot, unlike his elder brother who can spend an entire year without smiling.

"Ya Zafeer," Princess Eshaal hugged her brother.

Princess Eshaal Ibn Harith Baghdad is the youngest and only daughter in King Harith's family. She is ten years old and has a bubbly personality, she is the only weapon the family uses to get to a stubborn Zafeer because they know how much he loves his sister. Eshaal has long jet-black hair with a straight nose, big eyes inherited from her mother, and plump lips, she is fair but not like her brother.

"How are you?" He smirked which in a way looked like a cute smile. To make Zafeer smile is surely a huge task.

"I am fine," She smiled as he twirled her around.

"Good morning, Ya Zafeer," Sabreen and Zayn embraced him with smiles on their faces.

Sabreen Haroon Baghdad is Junaid's immediate younger sister. She is eighteen years but she acts way older than her age, they have that unique brother-and-sister relationship with Zafeer which always baffles everyone as to how he let her in because he hardly talks to anyone.

Zayn Haroon Baghdad, also called Cutie, is the youngest prince. He is a naive twelve-year-old introvert who is obsessed with video games and horses. And yes, he loves Eid because of the hawa tradition that is done in the Hausa land.

"We missed you all," They chorused.

"I missed you too," He retorted in an uninterested tone but they knew better.

"Mother, good morning," He greeted in Arabic, trying to turn his deep voice into a whisper.

His voice is so deep that he sometimes uses it to scare innocent children back in Saudi Arabia. The guy hates it when children cry but there is just something about his voice that scares them the more.

"How are you?" She smiled and pecked her son's forehead, barely able to hold back her tears.

"I am fine," He answered.

Queen Umaiza Ibn Harith Baghdad is the sweetest and most caring mother when it comes to her children but she can also be audacious and commanding when she decides to act like the queen she is. She married King Harith Baghdad twenty-eight years ago and even though the marriage was arranged, they still found love in each other.

"Zafeer, my son," His aunt, Hamida smiled and hugged him.

Hamida Haroon Baghdad is the first wife of Prince Haroon Baghdad, the king's biological brother. She is also the sister of Gov. Ishaq Makama, Kano state governor. All her life, the only thing she has ever craved for was power and now that she has successfully gotten married to a royal, she misuses her power in the most unethical way ever.

"Good morning," He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing she was one of the people who wanted him dead, that is for sure.

"Welcome back, son," Haroon hugged his nephew.

"Good morning, uncle," Zafeer greeted with a deep scowl.

"Glad to have you back here," Haroon patted him on the shoulder.

"Zafeer, welcome to Kano," King Harith Baghdad spoke with extensive pride, his head was covered in the royal turban and he was clad in a blue royal thobe which had sophisticated silver intricate designs on it.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Zafeer could not help but snort.

Everyone noticed the tense atmosphere in the room. Zafeer and Harith never got along with each other because ever since the day he left Nigeria when he was ten years old, Harith never visited him, not even once. Not even a call from him to make sure his son was alright. Zafeer craved his father's love but he didn't get it when he needed him the most and now that he is back, he must give him a piece of his mind.

"Didn't your grandparents teach you how to respect your elders?" Harith grabbed his mug of Frappuccino with a stern face, and Zafeer laughed humourlessly.

"I thought respect is given to those who value it and not a father who didn't have time to visit his son for fifteen years, Your Highness," He talked with so much arrogance while looking at his father dead in the eyes.

"Zafeer," His mother called sternly.

"Seriously, Ummi. You want to shut me up from telling your husband the truth now, he knows it already," Zafeer removed his himar and tossed it aside.

"Umaiza, take your son away," He looked at his wife but she saw right through him. She knew he was broken, he did all that to protect his son but Zafeer would never understand.

"Zafeer, follow me, now!" She looked at him with commanding eyes.

"Fine," He scoffed and followed her outside where many palace guards were waiting for them.

The convoy took them to the queen's chamber. Queen Umaiza watched as her son tried so hard not to vent his anger in the car, it was a good thing that he had great respect for his mother, if not, Zafeer could destroy an entire building when he is enraged.

When they entered the Queen's chamber, the heavenly scent of different Arabian fragrances hit their nostrils, and Zafeer calmed down immediately. They entered the living room with the guards and maids behind them, she removed her set of green nine-karat diamond pieces of jewellery and handed it to a maid who was holding a silver platter.

"Disperse," She ordered and with that, all of them left the living room.

"When will you start addressing your anger issues? I am tired, Zafeer," She raised her hand, leaving him no room to argue and he groaned.

"But Ummi—" Umaiza cut him off before he could continue.

"No buts, it is an order from the queen and also a mother to her son," She audaciously uttered.

"Okay," He sighed. He hated being ordered around, not that he could do anything about it.

"Good boy, now come here," She then placed his head on her lap and started massaging it, something he enjoyed every time she did it.

"I'll book an appointment with the therapist by myself," His black orbs stared at hers.

"Alright," She smiled and continued massaging his hair.

*

Marwa had just come back from her shift at the restaurant and she was exhausted. She entered the house and headed straight to the kitchen then grabbed her food which was in a food flask. It was two balls of pounded yam with egusi soup, one of her favourites.

"Mami, I am back," She chanted happily.

"Marwa how many times will I tell you to stop this bad habit of yours?" Her mother questioned with a frown.

"What bad habit?" She questioned, pretending to act ignorant.

"Going to the kitchen before coming to greet your mother," Nafisa rolled her eyes.

"Mami, I am so sorry," Marwa apologized with a sheepish grin.

"You will be," The mother glared daggers at her daughter.

"Salaam everyone, your favourite is back from Islamic school and yes, someone is waiting for Adda Marwa outside the house," Hidayah tiredly removed her hijab and slumped on the couch beside her mother.

"Whoever the fuck that is, I am not going," Marwa rolled her eyes and continued eating her food.

"Marwa, stand up and go. Do you want to die single?" Her mother questioned sternly.

"Mami, please stop talking about relationships now, that thing called love is not in my dictionary," Marwa replied.

"I am tired of this, stand up and go, now!" Nafisa's figure hovered over her daughter's.

"But Ma--" Before she could finish, her mother picked up the food flask, that was the only way she could make a headstrong Marwa succumb to her.

"If you don't go outside and listen to whatever it is that the person has to say, then I promise you won't eat this food," Nafisa glared at her daughter, Hidaya was laughing but soon kept quiet when her sister glared at her.

"Okay, I will go," Marwa sighed dejectedly and stood up then fixed her hijab.

She mischievously smiled at her mother who kept glaring at her the whole time then made her way out after signalling Hidayah that she would kill her later.

Immediately she stepped outside the metal door of the house, her eyes clashed with a white Subaru BRZ and a man clad in blue kaftan standing beside it. When he raised his head, her frown turned into a professional smile.

"How did you find out where I live, Sir?" She asked, giving him that poker face of hers even though he is the owner of the restaurant she is working in, she is not at work now.

"Marwa," Jamal Malik murmured.

"Miss Marwa," She quickly corrected and he sighed, the girl is very stubborn.

Jamal Malik is a businessman who owns a few world-class restaurants in Kano. He is not the arrogant type, Jamal is easygoing and always makes sure his employees get paid efficiently which is why Marwa respects him a lot.

"Okay, Miss Marwa," He smiled.

"What brought you here, Sir?" She asked, wanting to go back and finish her food before it got cold.

"I uh—, I just dropped by to greet you," He stuttered.

"You have greeted me, Sir. Now may I go back inside?" She questioned with folded arms, her face scrunched up in a deep frown.

"No, I mean, won't I get to know a few things about you?" He quickly talked.

"Okay fine. I am Marwa Kabeer Hassan, the tomboy, female hooligan, or poor girl as people call me. I don't care about what anyone thinks of me because I am a narcissistic person, yeah, I believe I am important to my own self. I am chasing my dreams of becoming a therapist and no one will stop me from achieving my dreams by God's unwavering grace. And one more thing, don't you ever talk about the royals in front of me because I hate them and everything related to royalty," She rambled without a pause.

"Wow!" That was all he could say.

"May I go back in now, Sir?" She asked, not feeling intimidated by his presence.

"Call me Jamal, please," He said.

"Okay, may I go back in now, Jamal?" She was getting aggravated with every passing second.

First, he dared to interrupt Marwa from munching on her pounded yam, and now, he is stopping her from going back inside to continue what she does best. Surely, he must pay for it because nobody interrupts Marwa Kabeer Hassan and the love of her life and gets away with it. She loves food as her life depends on it.

"You are so feisty," He shook his head with an amused smile on his face.

"May I go back in now, Jamal Sir?" Now, she didn't even wait for his reply before aggressively matching away to the house with an annoyed huff.

That is Marwa for you, the girl does not give a damn. She is not even afraid of losing her part-time job because of food, she is blindly in love with food and can fight with anyone for a plate of food that rightfully belongs to her.