Married To A Captain

Chapter 11

The dreaded day had arrived for Fatima. Ummah woke her up early, as Muhammad and his elders were coming by noon. They had breakfast and then left to prepare a delicious meal for the guests. By noon, Fatima was dressed in a blue atampa with flower patterns, along with a blue veil.

Lost in her thoughts, Fatima was interrupted by a voice. "Hey, Fatima, are you alright?" Mino inquired. Fatima smiled and replied, "I'm alright, Mino, just nervous." Mino sat down beside Fatima and held her hand. "My Fatuu, you don't need to worry. You're beautiful, intelligent, confident, and one of the kindest persons I have ever met. Any man would be lucky to have you as a wife."

Fatima giggled and hugged Mino. "Did I tell you how much I love you? You're the best sister and the best friend I could ask for." Mino replied, "Yes, I know you love me so much, and yes, I know I'm the best sister," she teased. Fatima jokingly whined, "Urghh, I literally feel like taking that back." They continued to playfully tease each other.

Soon, Hadiza rushed into the room, panting. "Anty... anty, they're here! Their cars just arrived." Mino quickly ran to the window and exclaimed, "OMG! Girl, you didn't tell me you're getting married into the royal family." Fatima responded, "Royal what?" Mino confidently said, "Abso-freaking-lutely, come and see for yourself." Fatima approached the window and saw the royal symbol, shining in all its glory. She felt dazed and lost. Hadiza left to tend to Ummah's call, but she returned shortly to inform Fatima and Mino that they were being called downstairs. Mino grabbed her veil and Fatima's hand, and they both proceeded downstairs.

When they reached downstairs, they saw about ten men sitting, along with some elders and what appeared to be bodyguards. They passed by them and went to the small parlor. They greeted the men and salamed before entering. Inside, they saw four men sitting beside Abba. Fatima was shocked to see the guy from the gala sitting in their house, hoping he wasn't the one she would be getting married to.  Two of the men appeared to be in their mid-forties, while the other two seemed to be in their mid-twenties, according to Fatima's estimation. They exchanged greetings and then sat down on the carpet. One of the elder men began with a prayer before addressing Abba.

"We are here to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage for our son," he said. "Unfortunately, his father, the king, couldn't be here, so we are representing him. I am his uncle, Musa Waziri, and this is my son, Adam," he said, pointing to the man sitting beside Muhammad. "And this is Muhammad, the future groom, insha Allah."

Fatima lowered her head, allowing the elders to continue their discussion. After a while, Abba turned to her. "My daughter, it has been finalized. The wedding will take place in two months. We will leave you two to get to know each other," he said with a smile.

The rest of the elders left after offering prayers, and even Mino, who had been forgotten in the commotion, left the room as well. Fatima raised her head, her gaze meeting Muhammad's. She felt a mix of shock and disappointment at seeing the same guy from the gala. She hoped deep down that Muhammad wasn't as cruel as he seemed that night.

Muhammad smirked at Fatima. "I told you I would make you regret what you said to me, and by Allah, you will."

Fatima couldn't believe Muhammad's audacity. "Do you think marriage is a joke? Who do you think you are to toy with my life? What opinion do you have of yourself?" she asked, her voice trembling with anger.

Muhammad maintained his smirk. "I am Muhammad Ibrahim Waziri, and I will show you what I am capable of. In my eyes, this marriage is just a game. You are not a woman of my standards. I will make your miserable and lonely life a living nightmare. I will burn you with the blazing fire inside me. I will show you how cruel I can be."

"You damn demon! I despise you with every fiber of my being. I hate that I crossed paths with a sadistic soul like you," Fatima spat out, her voice dripping with venom. "Your life may have been desolate and depressing, but that doesn't give you the right to wish that upon others.It is pitiful how someone like you would speak of standards. I'm certain that one day, you would no longer find solace if I'm not with you. I promise you that I would make you need and desire me, become your obsession and compulsion. Fatima's words dripped with venom as she spat them out.

Muhammad chuckled. Fatima couldn't deny it; his laughter was like a breath of fresh air for her soul. But that didn't mean she hated him any less. "The game is on. May the best player win. Good luck to you," he replied.

"Good luck to you too," she answered.

Muhammad left the room, closing the door with a loud bang. Fatima fell to the floor, feeling defeated. This wasn't what she had wanted. She yearned for a happy life, a loving husband. She didn't want to be caught up in some game; she just wanted joy and peace in her life. She didn't want to be a royal, didn't want to marry a prince. But that day, she had discovered that he was a prince, and that demon had to ruin everything. Since he wanted to play, she would play along and make him lose miserably. She would show him his place. Just because he was a prince didn't mean he could have everything he desired.

As Fatima stood up and left the room, she made her way to her mother's room. Umma was sitting on the bed, and Fatima approached her, resting her head on her lap. Umma gently ran her hand through Fatima's hair, asking, "How did it go, my dear? Do you like the groom?"

"I can't say anything for certain, but I'll give it a try," Fatima responded, even though she knew the kind of trouble she was getting herself into.

Umma smiled warmly. "You learn to like and love him with time."

Internally, Fatima scoffed. "It'll be a miracle if I ever love that demon."

Umma continued, "I've started making a list for your wedding preparations—the kitchenware, the Kayan Gida. Insha Allah, I'll be leaving for Turkey next week to buy some things for you."

Fatima expressed her gratitude to Umma. Though she wasn't Fatima's biological mother, she loved her like a daughter, treating her as her own. Fatima couldn't wish for.