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Prologue

Three Great Emperors had toiled hard to build the vast and flourishing legacy of the 'Mughal Empire', keeping relative peace by unifying its Mughals and Hindus. However; by mid 1600s, cracks began to appear in its solid foundations. Insecurities crept in through the gaps, widening the gulfs between the two religions once again.

With the old Emperor becoming too feeble to take charge and his jealous successors remaining preoccupied with expansion and power, the damage was never repaired. Not surprising then that new rebellions arose every day. Violence escalated, claiming many innocent lives.

Yet; in the midst of such turmoil and peril, there bloomed a beautiful story - much like a lone flower blossoming upon the steepest edges of a cliff - a story of love, of sacrifice and honour!

Forced to flee from her motherland, the one home she knew... forced to leave behind her people, for whom, she was their only hope...forced to grievously abandon the last rites of her loved one while the flames on the pyre were still ablaze...the orphaned heiress of 16 overcame grief and many shortcomings, as she embarked on a long dangerous path... setting out to seek help and support, for her people and her lands...

Till a chance stay with a complete stranger would change the course of those very plans forever!

Being the most shrewd, determined and unforgiving of the lot meant he was formidable... a force to be reckoned with... it also meant he could have owned it all - riches, power, women and fame... but, he fancied none of it...

As a recluse with simple tastes, the rich life held no real appeal... power didn't tempt him... women didn't interest him... his passion was work and his only family were a few loyal friends... he had decided that he wanted little else in life...

Till a chance visit from a complete stranger would change that decision forever!

Like a suffocating child who'd just found some air to breathe, Heera wanted to weep. She wanted to spare a few moments mourning for a sister who'd watched out for her, even during those last moments.

But she couldn't. So, she forced down that pool of liquid that'd rushed up to her throat.

Instead, the young lady had to learn to derive a burst of inspiration from what seemed like jiji's final attempts to save their lands using a 'fake Farmaan' - a masterful ploy, that she would NOT allow to go to waste.

So what if the Farmaan no longer interested the Shehzaade? So what if these plunderers had given up their hunt for the scroll? She would rekindle their interest in it again. She would sell the Farmaan to them now, by convincing them of its importance - this was the only certain way, for now, that she could barter and buy themselves some time!

'Hey...' A loud bark right in front of her face made her jump 'WHERE are you lost in thought again?'

'The Farmaan'

'Oh... yes... yes... yes... here comes the Farmaan again!' Khalil mocked, bobbing his head like a jester would 'Frankly speaking, I'm bored of hearing that word... the Shehzaade's given me orders to have you beheaded... so, this conversation is a total waste of time...'

'Would it still be a waste of time, if I told you I know where the original Farmaan is?'

'Hmmm' the general slowly cocked his head back. So, the Sahiba had decided to confess now? After all this time? Unexpected, but not entirely shocking.

His fingers reaching for the side of his cummerbund, Khalil kept one eye on this impressively shrewd 16-year-old and another eye on the dagger that he'd just drawn out. 'Tut tut tut...' His fingers stroked its glistening blade, as though he was getting ready for some dangerous game of some sort 'it's not good to lie, Sahiba... especially not when there is a knife pointing at your neck'

'I'm not lying... if I die now, the secret of the Farmaan dies with me... and that serves no purpose'

'Anyway, not interested...' Khalil sighed 'enough time wasted upon a silly document... Huzoor had his best spies... even our best officer to keep a close eye on you and your people, over the past few weeks... when THEY couldn't find the Farmaan... our Huzoor lost patience too! So YES...' he spat near her foot 'this conversation IS A WASTE OF TIME!'

'Best officer... keeping a close eye... over the past few weeks...'

If this made for a worthwhile read, please do leave me a comment/like when you can, as it really does helps the writer in me to keep going!