114. Crowned
Saïda’s POV:
I watched Asahd play with Zahir on the floor. It made me smile like an idiot. Both were so cute and I loved them to death.
Zahir was already five months old and he was even cuter.
“Couchi couchi coooo~” Asahd chanted happily, kissing Zahir’s round cheeks.
He smiled, showing his pink gums. I melted.
“You are so cute! Oh my gawd!” Asahd exclaimed, kissing him over and over again. “Just look at him. My baby boy. Muah!”
I giggled.
“His poor cheeks,” I laughed, joining them on the carpet. “We’re always kissing or suckling on them.”
“Well, it’s his fault,” Asahd kissed him again. “Ain’t it? Ain’t it, boo bear?” another kiss and I laughed.
I reached out and carried my little sweetheart. He was so innocent. His look was the purest.
“Aaaw, I love you Zahir,” I Nuzzled him. “My little Prince.”
“Prince he is,” Asahd agreed, touching his silk hair. “The more he grows, the more he looks like you.”
“Well, that’s perfect,” I laughed. “My genes are stronger apparently.”
“Not fair,” he chuckled and kissed Zahir again.
“At least he has your curls.”
“Yes, he does,” he played with Zahir’s little cheeks. “I love you, son. You will never lack anything.”
“I won’t let you spoil my son,” I laughed. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t become like what you were before New York.”
Asahd laughed.
“Don’t worry,” he mused. “I won’t let him be like that either. I’ll just shower him with love and attention, but teach him respect at the same time.”
“Good,” I giggled and held Zahir closer to me. “Our sweetheart.”
I smiled at Asahd and he leaned in to kiss me.
The best moments of our lives.
Writer’s POV:
Prince Zahir was the centre of attraction in the palace. His father went everywhere with him. Asahd loved his little boy to death.
As time flew, whenever he had to travel, he would always take his wife and child along. Even adults envied the young Prince. He had the best toys, clothes, teachers and much more. His grandparents showered him with love, just as much as his parents. At three, little Zahir was already a sweetheart. He was the cutest, most respectful little boy. As he grew, he seemed to look more like his mother, than his father, as noticed a long time ago. He even had her dimples. Who could refuse him, anything? The entire sultanate was in love with the sweetheart.
Zahir played a lot like the child he was and it was almost impossible for anybody to dislike the little boy. Asahd sure was proud of his son.
He went shopping with the toddler, to the park, played with him and always took him along whenever he left the country.
Saïda loved how close they were and it amused her that Asahd had asked that matching outfits be made for him and his little Prince. Whenever they went out or ceremonies were organised, father and son would be dressed same.
It was the cutest thing ever! Saïda was living her best life with a husband and child that loved her just as much as she loved them.
On top of it all, the future Queen was already seven months pregnant and carrying her second child with Asahd. Zahir was going to be two years and a half older than his upcoming sibling. The grandparents were already prepared to welcome baby number two.
The Usaïds sure were living their best life.
Asahd’s POV:
“How do I look?” I asked Saïda after fixing my Royal sherwani.
“Handsome as always, my love.”
I smiled at her.
“And you are gorgeous, sweetheart,” I lowered my head and kissed her, then I squatted and kissed her round tummy covered by her beautiful dress.
It was a special day. I was twenty six and about to be crowned sultan of Zagreh in some hours. The nobles had decided that the crowning be done when I was twenty six, rather than twenty five.
“I’m happy that he’ll be having a little one to play with,” I told my wife, standing.
We both looked over at our three year old son, all dressed up and busy playing on the carpet.
I smiled, my heart swelling with love.
“Me too,” she smiled and pecked me. “It’s time. Are you ready?”
“I’m a little nervous. But yes I am. And you?”
“Same,” she hugged me. “Now let’s go.”
I turned to my son.
“Zahir?”
“Mmm?” he looked up and immediately stood before rushing over to me. I carried him.
“My little prince,” I chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Are you ready?”
“Mhm,” he nodded with a giggle.
“That’s my boy. Let’s go.”
Writer’s POV:
The entire sultanate was watching, either LIVE or through their television screens. It was a special day for the Zagrehian community as a new sultan and queen were about to crowned.
Prince Asahd looked stunning, and so did the princess in her almost ending term of pregnancy. She was radiant indeed.
Little Zahir was left with his maternal grandfather while his parents went up the platform and sat close to Asahd’s parents.
-
The imam was present and the ceremony began with the Qur’an being read.
Right after, the sultan was asked to read a speech that showed that he was willing to hand over the throne to his son and that he believed wholeheartedly that the Prince was mature, responsible and good enough to take over. Which was a fact.
For the past three years after his son’s birth, Asahd had improved in his royal duties. He’d assisted his father in everything and showed twice the interest in the people of his community. Even before the crowning, Asahd had already succeeded in regaining the people’s trust and confidence in him. Same for Saïda who’d greatly contributed to the Prince’s involvement in royal duties. Even the nobles were done testing him and finally ready to have him become their new sultan.
--
After the speech, Asahd was asked to stand and read from some sort of sacred book that listed out some ‘vows’ to the sultanate of Zagreh. They were vows that the Prince had to read and eventually accomplish, once crowned sultan. In order words, there were promises to the people, involving their protection and well-being in the sultanate.
After reading them, he was highly applauded. Right after, the queen read hers and Saïda followed. The people were very happy.
-
Many other customary practices were carried out and the time came for Asahd and Saïda to be officially crowned.
Both were asked to sign a legal document and when they did so, there were loud cheers and applause.
Under the watchful eyes, Asahd’s father took his royal turban off and put it on his son’s head. Then, he went on to remove the royal scarf he hand on and put it around Asahd’s neck.
The queen did same, removing her royally decorated veil and putting it over Saïda’s head. And that was it!
“All hail the Sultan and Queen of Zagreh!” a noble announced to the joy of the people and loud royal horns were blown.
Everyone bowed to the new hierarchy.
Asahd’s POV:
It was a feast right after. I was very happy indeed. My parents, Saïda and I sat at our table with little Zahir on my lap. I was finally the crowned sultan and it actually felt awkward, but in a good way. Almost unbelievable.
“You’re the sultan now?” Zahir asked in his squeaky little voice.
“Mhm,” I smiled and kissed his head.
“And what about grandpapa?” he asked, reaching out to touch my father.
“Grandpapa is still royalty too. He’s the highest noble now, given that he is my father. He still has a lot of authority over the sultanate, followed by grandpa Djafar, right under him.”
“And mama is Queen.”
“Yes,” I chuckled a little at how curious he was. “And your grandmother is the Queen-mother because I’m her son. When you grow and take over from me, your mother will become Queen-mother too.”
He looked a little confused and it made me laugh.
“Do you ever allow Saïda to carry him?” my father mused from the other side of the table.
“Of course,” I laughed.
“He is so stingy with Zahir,” Saïda laughed, taking Zahir from me. “Just watch. In the next five to ten minutes, without even realising it, he’ll reach out to take Zahir back.”
We all laughed.
“I can’t help it,” I chuckled.
“He’s my son too, Asahd,” Saïda mused and put Zahir on her other lap, so I wouldn’t try to take him.
“You’re seven months pregnant and tired most of the time. It’s a favor I’m doing you,” I laughed.
“No thanks. When I’m tired, I’ll give him to my father or my in-laws.”
“Right,” the parents agreed and we laughed.
“Fine. I plead guilty,” I chuckled. I was kind of stingy indeed.
Everything was perfect as I watched Zahir finally sleep off, later that night.
“He’s asleep?” Saïda whispered, approaching me from behind.
“Yeah,” I stood and turned to her. I kissed her forehead and touched her tummy. “How’s the baby? You okay?”
“Mhm,” she smiled and pulled me in for a kiss. “Let’s go.”
Leading the way, we left our son’s room and returned to ours.
-
“I feel lucky,” Saïda told me as I helped her sit on the bed.
I smiled at her and she smiled back. “I married a loving husband and father. I never thought you could be both. But you are. And I’m very proud of you, Asahd. And who you are now.”
I held her hands in mine.
“It’s thanks to you,” I kissed her hands. “I feel just as lucky to have you, Saïda. You’re the love of my life and I’m happy I got to realise it early enough, before it was too late. You make me happy and I’d rather die than live without you.”
She blushed and I came closer so she could rest her head against my chest, which she did.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, Asahd.”
I was happy and more than satisfied with what I had. I was happy with my life and proud of my own little family that was adding with time. I never knew love could make me this happy, but it did. I was proud of myself and the lessons I’d learned with time.
Saïda, Zahir and our evidently better future were proof to me, that being egocentric and self-centered would bring me nothing but trouble between I and the people I cared the most about. Everything was fine now. The past was gone and there was absolutely nothing to complain about about my new beginning.
All I hoped for was to be just a great ruler as my father before me, which with the help of Saïda by my side, I was sure to achieve.
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