Chapter 78 49: Tears Of A Prince

Daada smiled and he asked him how he had been. Even though Mujaheed didn't want to worry him much with talks, he realized he had missed his father terribly and the only thing he had left was for him to have the best conversation he could have with him. He didn't leave the room until it was late at night when the nurse came back and told him that Daada should take his night medications and sleep, because in a very long time they had forgotten when last, The king had eaten his dinner, a solid food he had always been begged to eat. Mujaheed with a smile on his lips walked back to Yumma's chamber and wondered whether Fareeda had gone to sleep. He prayed she didn't, because there were things he wanted to tell her that even if she fell asleep, Mujaheed knew he would have to wake her up and tell her everything. The servants and guards knelt down and greeted him and he nodded his head at him, because for a very long time, Mujaheed felt at peace and he knew it was because he had seen his father today. He went ahead to the master bedroom and even before he turned the doorknob, he heard the baby giggle of Muhaseen and the laughing voice of Fareeda as she played for her or rather, with her. Because Fareeda's soul was still young, he knew that she thought she had fully healed, or maybe she was trying to heal, but he could see through her. He knocked softly on the door and he heard as her laughter subsided. "Qui est là? (Who's there?)" She asked, and he tried so hard to change his voice before he answered. "C'est un message de sa grandeur, Ton paresse. (It's a message from his highness, your highness.)" He said in a voice he was sure she wouldn't be able to recognize as his. "Tu veux dire Mujaheed? Désolé, le prince héritier? (You mean Mujaheed? Oh sorry, the crown prince.)" he sensed uncertainty in her voice and realized it would fun to fool her tonight. "Oui, ta grandeur. Mais je n'ai pas le droit d'arriver. (Yes, your highness. But I'm not allowed to come in.)" he heard the shuffles as she dropped Muhaseen on the bed with a smile on her lips. "D'accord, je viendrai le chercher. (Okay, I'll come out to collect it.)" he heard her faint footsteps and he could imagine the look on her face. She must've been curious and afraid altogether but because she couldn't let the curiosity to eat her up, she would rather are down her fear and come out to see it herself. She opened the door with a soft smile and the words immediately pouring out of her lips. "Vous a-t-on donné quelque chose ou demandé de me dire quelque chose? (Did he give you something or asked you to tell me something?)" He pulled her to himself and they walked into the room, "Oui, il m'a dit de vous dire quail t'aims beacoup. (Yes, he told me to tell you that he loves you very much.)" She giggled and felt as he merged their lips in a sync able to tell her how much he loved her and cherished her in his life. ... "How have you been?" He cupped her face as he asked and walked further into the room. Fareeda smiled at him, wondering how she didn't recognize his voice from the start. She knew it wasn't Nafisa because the voice didn't sound like hers, being nearly blind had thought her how to recognize a person's voice she heard it but she wondered why when he turned his voice she didn't. She placed her hands on top of his and smile as they both sat on the edge of the bed. "I've missed you so much, I called Nana and she couldn't believe that you're a prince, I could't believe her either. I told her not to tell any of them, though. You can call Alhaji if you feel like it, but just Nenne and Nana are enough for me." He chuckled and shook his head, "Why don't you forget all that had happened when you're countries apart from each other? Why don't you call them, I mean Hajia and Alhaji." She immediately shook her head and Muhaseen's chortle stopped her from replying. Mujaheed turned behind him and took the bed while he smiled, "My baby, I've missed you so much." He nuzzled his nose on hers and smiled, "Hope you didn't trouble your Maama that much?" She loved it whenever he was interacting with Muhaseen, it was the best interaction she had got to see in her life. Everything looked so real and beautiful that some part of her wished she had had the chance to have this kind of childhood as well. Not that she was complaining, but even though there were times that Fareeda wished her life didn't turn out this way, she was glad and thankful that it did. Because this same life she thought was horrible was what gave her Mujaheed and that was a gift she would live to treasure forever. "She didn't, she's a good girl, you know? Not as stubborn as her Maama used to be." He chuckled and pinched her cheeks. "Her Maama is still stubborn, I know that better than anyone." She watched as he carefully lulled Muhaseen to sleep until she was breathing slowly before he kissed her forehead and went to place her down in her crib. "I'm jealous, Muhaseen will be more of a daddy's girl than a mummy's girl." She pouted her lips and he chuckled before he walked up to her. "But I'll always be yours, isn't that compensation enough?" He asked and she rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, at least smile before I go and take my bathe, then I can fill your curiosity as much as you want, or you're no more curious." Her head immediately jerked up and she smiled widely at him, "Go on, I'll warm something for you to eat, I doubt if you've eaten anything." He was at the door when he immediately turned to her, "No, I've eaten with Daada, and you shouldn't be seen in the kitchen." She stopped by the door, "Who's that? And why shouldn't I be seen? Everyone knows I'm here, don't they?" He shook his head at her, "Not everyone, it's just the servants and they won't talk about it. Daada is my father, the king. I'll take you to see him tomorrow." She immediately walked back to the kitchen and to the where he stood by the bathroom room. With her eyes filled with curiosity and excitement, she spoke. "So you have a father?" She chuckled as she palmed her forehead. "Sorry, I mean your father is alive but you've never mentioned about him. Okay, how is he? Not anything like Alhaji, right?" She asked, with a silent prayer that at least one of them should have the best father figure in his or her life. He chuckled and shook his head at her, "He's still alive, but very sick. Even though I don't want to come to the conclusion about the kind of father Alhaji has been to you, he's nothing like him." She giggled, "That's why you're so good with Muhaseen. I'm glad you got the father's love everyone deserves, that way my kids won't grow up like I did." He playfully pinched her cheeks and joked. "You're still a kid with a grown up's body. Let your soul grow, you'll love what it will make you feel like." Mujaheed immediately fell into the bathroom and closed the door behind him because he knew how much she hated it whenever he told her that her soul was young, she should let it grow and whatsoever. She sat back on the bed and looked around the room, even though it was full of luxury, a touch of richness and fashion, there was something about the whole building that screamed of old times. The ambience, the air that surrounded it depicted royalty and power and the kind of love these family shared. Her eyes caught a frame on the other side of the room and she smiled before she walked up to the frame. It was a picture of Mujaheed, an older woman and also a younger lady. He wasn't the same age he was now, he wasn't young also. "That was me, Yumma and Kulthum. Daada wasn't home when we took the picture and he kept complaining that we had ditched him, to annoy him more, Yumma framed it and hang it in her room. And even after she died, no one dared take it off, not even me nor the innocent Kulthum." She heard his voice behind her and even before she turned, his fragrance had made it known to her that he was around. She turned to him with a calming look on her face and a smile, "Who's Kulthum? Your sister? Where is she now?" Even though it was evident enough that she was, Fareeda didn't want t make further assumptions about him. She wanted all she would like him to know to be the truth about him. He smiled and nodded his head at her, "Yes, she's my younger sister. She's the same age as you, now 24 years old. So you can understand why when you used to be stubborn why I wanted to smack you until you die, because my younger sibling is your age." She chuckled, looked up at the picture again before she sadly smiled. They looked like a happy family, and their mother was so beautiful, from the edges of her head one could tell she had a very long hair. The same one the Fulani people of Cameroon had. "Where is she now, Kulthum I mean." He smiled and slumped on the bed, his eyes fixed on the frame. "She got married after Yumma died because she couldn't stay here all alone, I couldn't be together with her because I'm a man. I encouraged her to get married to the man she loved, he's the second prince of Agadez, but they live in Oman." "Where is Agadez?" She eased when he pulled her to him on the bed and they lay down staring at the white ceiling that had the inscription of royalty. "Niger, don't you know that? Where's the important of your geography?" He teased and she rolled her eyes even though they were both facing the ceiling for him to notice but she knew he would know that she had rolled her eyes. "Whatever. So, she now lives in Oman? When was the time she got married?" She asked, suddenly interested in Kulthum because seeing the way she smiled was so filled with innocence. "She has been married five years ago, I left just two weeks after her wedding, she was 19 when she got married. She doesn't know, but I check up on her sometimes, she's doing fine with her husband and their kid now, I think the last time I checked she was even pregnant, that was last year, she must've given birth now." She turned to look at him and he had a satisfied look on his face even though a very sad one. "Tell me, how are you feeling about all this? I can see you're so sad, maybe you even want to cry. Why did you leave home? When you have such a respectful title and go to Nigeria where no one knows you, stayed there and disguised your identity as a gateman. Why, Mujaheed?" She turned to look at him and he had a satisfied look on his face even though a very sad one. "Tell me, how are you feeling about all this? I can see you're so sad, maybe you even want to cry. Why did you leave home? When you have such a respectful title and go to Nigeria where no one knows you, stayed there and disguised your identity as a gateman. Why, Mujaheed?"