Kasaita Part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

Royal Greetings and a Different Limousine
We walked across the smooth palace carpet until we reached the Waziri and the kingmakers—the elders of the court. He slightly bowed to greet them, and I followed his example. Instead of responding with arrogance, as elders sometimes do, they praised him softly with brief words of admiration.
After rising, he went down the line greeting them one after another. As for me, whenever we reached someone, I simply raised my hand in greeting. When they finished, the royal guards suddenly prostrated themselves to greet us. Their surprise was obvious when he openly responded to them:
“Have you been well?”
He even called two of them by name. Not only they—even I was deeply surprised.
He didn’t stop to analyze their shock or ask them to rise; he simply walked on. When he reached a group dressed in traditional royal attire—clearly not guards but perhaps close aides, friends, or sons of noble families—he embraced one of them warmly. Everyone was astonished. He continued greeting them one by one with the Arab-style embrace. There were about eight of them.
After that, we turned toward our car, which had already been opened for us.
It was a limousine—but not the one I knew him to use. That one was black with three doors and an ordinary front design. This one was dark ash in color, with a bold, imposing front that seemed to declare, “End of discussion.”
When I entered and he joined me, I couldn’t help but think—if not for fear of sounding dramatic—I would say the car was more beautiful and comfortable than an airplane, and I have traveled enough to know different kinds of luxury vehicles and aircraft.
We were completely shielded from outside view. I leaned gently onto my husband’s shoulder. He lifted my chin slightly and kissed me.
“Thank you. Oh! Let me step aside for a moment so I don’t commit a second offense.”
He adjusted his seat and brought out a new pink flowing gown with its matching veil.
“Remove what you’re wearing and put this on. We’re going to greet His Majesty and Mama.” He playfully pulled my nose. “We’re also visiting Daddy today.”
My eyes widened.
“I feel shy around him,” I said softly.
“Why?” he asked.
I gave him a teasing look that I knew made my eyes sparkle. He laughed.
“Yasmin, every day I love you more because you’ve turned me into your little one.”
“I’ve stopped that. Please, let’s not go to Dad.”
“That’s impossible. We’ve been married for months and you’ve never visited properly. Even before, when I refused to take you, it was because I feared you wouldn’t want to return with me. Now I have the guarantee of following you anywhere. If they give you a room, they’ll give me one too. Otherwise, I’ll sleep in the living room—or even in the kitchen—just to see you daily.”
I gently nudged him in playful affection, and he sighed dramatically.
“If I had truly lost you before, it would have been worse than any accident. Losing you would cripple my life.”
“Me?”
“That’s enough,” he laughed.
Love, Laughter, and Royal Bearing
I wore the pink fabric over my outfit—it was exquisite material. He changed too, replacing his ash cloak with a pure white one over his royal attire. He had been wearing black safari-style royal garments underneath.
I took out my powder and mirror to retouch my makeup, deepened my blush, and adjusted my eyelashes until they stood out beautifully. When I turned, I found the Prince staring at me without blinking, like a statue.
Only when I touched him did he smile deeply. He sprayed perfume on me—each spray followed by a kiss: on my neck, my chest, behind my ears. Usually, he would end by pulling me into his arms or even lifting me completely.
But this time I quickly snapped him back to reality.
“Honey, we are in the car. Wake up.”
He opened his eyes slowly, smiled, and tapped my nose.
“You’re irresistible.”
He then laid his head on my lap.
“I’m tired.”
“Tired from what? Allah has already given you the luxury of this world. What remains is the Hereafter—and the prayers of a good wife and righteous children.”
“I’ve found the wife,” he said softly. “And I trust my wife will raise our children well.”
At that moment, the car stopped. Within half a second, he sat upright, adjusted himself, and wore his glasses. The door opened—and instantly he transformed into pure royalty.
By the time my side was opened, I too remembered my former confidence and composure. I stepped out.
Before the King
A crowd gathered outside as though it were a grand celebration. He waited until I joined him, and together we walked in modest dignity.
We entered the outer palace court directly.
Oh, how the King loves his son. I wondered silently—between Mama, His Majesty, and me—who loved him more?
The moment we stepped inside, the King rose to his feet with visible joy on his face. Love met love. The Prince quickly approached and knelt respectfully before his father. His Majesty bent slightly and placed his hand on his son’s head in blessing.
The palace courtiers began their traditional chant:
“Nan Sarki ya amsa.”
And the King acknowledged them.