My Emir ✅

Chapter 49- Khalifa

       

     A special midnight update for the woman who prefers that I update during the day. Milady 😌❤️, this is for you.

    

      The transition was inescapable. The day he would be crowned as the Khalifa of the Emirates. What he dreaded had come to pass, and it was time to face the reality ahead of him. He had an entire sultanate ahead of him, and there was no time for dulling. Not at all. It was a huge responsibility, and he was prepared fully for it. Through the grace and fall of it all.
    He was ready. He was ready to commemorate the new chapter of his life with his family and a bunch of supportive friends. With wisdom passed down from generations of competent rulers, and proficiency etched from experience.

     In his chambers, Zayn sat quietly on a stool in front of the vanity as his mother made the final touches to his turban. He was fully clad in black regal attire, etched with gold-colored embroidery at the hems and openings. It was the same attire his father wore on his coronation day. The best part about it was that, the embroidery was solely done by his late grandmother.
    Mama Aisha took a stance behind him when she was done and positioned her hands on his shoulders. Zayn gazed solely at his reflection in the mirror before raising his gaze to meet his mother's. She wore a small smile that reflected on his face.
" You remind me of your father," she spoke softly, looking down to adjust the attire at his collar. "And just like him, I pray you rule justly. You are more than eligible to do it."
    Zayn nodded in affirmation.
   "In Shaa Allah."

    Her smile widened. " Now why don't we freeze down this memorable moment?"

   " I don't see why not," Zayn reached for his phone from the vanity and set it ready to take a picture. At this juncture, Mariya's obsession with mirror pictures was starting to rub off him. He clicked a few pictures and gave his phone to her.

   " Send them to me,"  Mama Aisha demanded as she swiped through the pictures. Her gaze softened on him when she placed the phone back on the vanity. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

   " I missed this," he confessed.

    His mother acknowledged his confession with a hum. She missed it too. " Let's get going now,"

    Taking that as his cue, Zayn got off the stool, heading out to the throne room, where the occasion would take place before moving to the durbar grounds.
   The distant sounds of trumpets and drums mixed with the constant ringing of ululations that echoed through the hallways grew clearer with each step they took toward the designated hall.
   Each step he took was a step towards a great commitment.

    The halls were lined with people, showering his every step with praises.

    “ Allah ya raya zaki!"

   " Allah ya raya sarki dan sarakai!"

    His mother used another door to get to the women's side of the hall, which meant that he had to walk through the aisle alone. He was greeted by familiar faces who were there to do nothing but offer support. Dignitaries from Kano and other states were present to grace the occasion, and it was nothing short of an honour to him.
   The mass crowd stood on their feet to acknowledge his presence. They didn't get back to their seats until he settled down on the throne his father and those before him ruled on.

     The swearing-in process was smooth, without any hitches. It was memorable and it reminded him of the day his father got throned. It was the same setting__ just a few faces missing from the crowd, including a young Zayn who thought he would be Emraan's greatest supporter throughout his journey as the Emir. Situations change people. He could vividly remember how shocked he had been when Emraan first disclosed his aspirations to abdicate. He never thought he would grow up to be the Emir, but here he was, sitting on the throne and being sworn as a ruler. So far, he was handling everything well.
   He recalled being a bit nervous about it because he felt he was too young to be the ruler, and his father assured him to his heart's content. His father's words were the only thing holding him firm at the moment