HBAS Chat corner - Page 2

Hear O ladies, what's on my mind,

About the stable-boy Gafhoor, a creature so sly.

It was his luck that the young Sahib was kind,

For had his cruel punisher instead been I

His filthy hands and legs I'd tightly bind,

And break them ALL, till I heard him sob and cry

Patting the powder off her flour-dusted palms, the young maid crouched upon the floor, beside piles of greasy utensils and vegetable peelings. Her eager eyes sparkled bright, as her lips bit down upon the thin edges of her veil 'What do you think?'

'That was funny...' A volley of contagious chuckles ruffled throughout the kitchens 'Well done...'

'Another one?'

'Yes... can you come up with another one?' they asked, playing the perfect audience to Bindiya's parodies, although their experienced hands continued with the chores.

A few feet short of those kitchens, Heera stopped by in the adjacent corridors, where she'd been strolling to and fro while supervising the preparations. Setting her silk fan down to give her fingers a rest, she leaned over one of the windows, her flushed skin longing to be brushed by a stray drift of breeze.

A 'happy' trill in Bindiya's voice brought her attention to the conversations in the kitchen, and she decided to listen to the upcoming parody, before returning to her duties.

When the boastful Kotwal blamed us of the theft, his face would scowl and glower,

But when the coins were discovered in the boy's house, his expressions turned sour.

Not a single sensible statement did he make during the entire tense hour,

No wonder then, that Khan Sahib possesses over everyone else, such unquestionable power!

'No wonder then, that Khan Sahib possesses over everyone else, such unquestionable power!'

Heera pondered upon Bindiya's dramatic narration about the Sahib's mighty demonstration a while back in his main haveli...

* * *

In the main Haveli some time Back..

'WHAT's happening, here?'

'Baisa?' Immensely relieved by their mistress' arrival, a hopeful Bindiya and Gauri turned to face the entranceway - as did the rest of the members in that crowded chamber.

Once her eyes had focused upon the scenes, Heera stepped inside, cringing at what she'd deduced was going on. She had come, expecting to encounter some unpleasantness, but this was horrendous! Bindiya lay at the Sahib's feet, her hands and clothes defiled by something resembling black ink marks - while Gauri was being harassed by a group of bullies 'Bindiya stand up... Gauri come here by my side...' she ordered, and the two ladies did as told - only too relieved to seek shelter under her protective shadow 'What was happening here?'

'Sahiba...' the Kotwal slowly answered 'your maids have been accused of thieving'

The young lady darted the chief a steady stare 'Kotwal Sahib... had I been called earlier, I would've saved you time by vouching for their integrity... but you must know that... so I take it, I was deliberately kept away!' Her remarks though subtle, made it clear that she had a low opinion of such sly methods 'Gauri has worked at our haveli for years... but would never touch a single grain that wasn't hers!' she held her companion supportively 'And what proof do you have?'

'Actually...' Akbar informed, since he knew that the Kotwal wouldn't have the nerve to speak up, after her rebuttal 'there are quite a few witnesses!'

'Quite a few? Is that why they had to be cross-questioned by 50 men?' Heera quipped. She wanted to use the same sarcastic flair she'd used against the Kotwal, but now, her quip had ended up sounding more like 'disappointment'. Disappointment, after what she'd just witnessed. The fact that he would allow two lone ladies to be humiliated thus, was an issue she couldn't come to terms with. Somehow, she expected better from this 'Sahib'. Was he just an egoistic businessman who cared for no one but himself - like her maids always said? 'Anyway, how much have they stolen, Khan Sahib? I will pay you back... and any fines that you will slap them with!'

Furious; Akbar stormed across the room, unconcerned by everyone's stunned expressions.

What?' Heera couldn't help feeling miffed. After all, she was not used to such directness - that too, from a man! There was plenty she could have said in retort, but decided to act civil and keep mum.

Her guards, though, were understandably enraged.

'Sahib, this is our baisa you're talking to ...' they roared in her defence, pointing their swords at his chest

'Address her with respect!'

'Apologise to her...'

Yet, all that effort could barely get Akbar to bat an eyelid. 'Please order your guards to put their swords down...' he conveyed as plainly as possible, his pitch an angry murmur 'if there is a bloodbath... I will be the lone man left standing... I assume that's not what you want...'

Coming from anyone else such statements would have sounded ridiculous and arrogant. It would have challenged her ego.

But from him, the message didn't sound like a mere boast. Or even like a temper-fuelled threat. It sounded 'real'. And the young lady understood it for what it was - as something she ought not to disregard. In fact, strangely, there was a small part of her that was both - amazed by the confidence with which he'd made that claim, and astonished by the indifference displayed by him and his mates to the threat.

Heera had not reacted much to his outburst so far. But when she got a clearer glimpse of his features, that equation changed. There was a raging fury in his glares - more intense than anything she'd ever encountered before. Eight nights ago, Bindiya had described his eyes as 'stormy'. But until now, she'd never known how ferociously those storms could blow. Besides, there was that telltale tinge of sincerity in his tone again - a tinge she tried hard to ignore, but simply couldn't!

'No' she instinctively knew 'all this restlessness could not be over a few stolen coins... it is something else...'

'Khan Sahib...' the lady tactfully amended her tone ' And all I've been trying to say, is that I had the right to know my maids were involved in this case, before the entire town was notified...'

And how quickly and cleverly he detected the perpetrator of the crime!

'Yes...' Akbar confirmed, sending his enthralled audience into another spell of bewilderment 'A 'fresh' smell of tannin oil... a chemical used in the leather factory... shoes... water bags... sword holders... and the sort' his eyes narrowed 'Sahiba... none of your maids work with leather, do they?'

'Not as far as I know' she scoffed mildly

Once he'd passed by the stable boys, he brought his steps to a slow stop 'Gafhoor... by any chance... would YOU know anyone who might be working with leather?'

'W...what?' the attendant swallowed hard, before looking up at his master 'No Sahib...'

'Sayyid...' Akbar immediately yelled, taking Gafhoor by complete surprise 'remind me again... where does his little brother work?'

'He works with a cobbler... a shoemaker...' Sayyid revealed.

'Does he now, Bindiya?' Heera chimed in, trying not to sound too amused as she remembered how five days back, this very girl had vowed never to think highly of the man...

* * *

At Present..

'Well... if it wasn't for him, we would've been shamed today... what's not to respect in a man who stands up for two commoners like us, baisa?' she replied, along with a chorus of approvers..

'Quite true!' the Lady nodded, recognising that his momentary gesture of cracking an ink pot, had left behind trails of a permanent mark of respect amongst her people.

At least, amongst most of them...

Heera turned around, to try and observe the chief-maid who was busy instructing the ladies in the reception room.

In most ways, her closest companion was a mirror image of her own self - a proud woman, but grateful too. Hence it was puzzling to note Gauri's unwillingness to acknowledge the young man's efforts to save her honour. In fact, ever since her return from the haveli, she'd mentioned everything else BUT him. Why? Did she not want to see the Sahib in a positive light? Or, was she afraid to let her baisa see him in a positive light?

'Anyhow... must get back to work...' she let go of the window sill, realising that no drift of breeze was going to be blowing her way anytime soon 'besides... after this feast... it's crucial for us to begin making plans to leave Aidabad... people have found out that we're from Parnagarh... news is bound to spread, which could spell danger for us... and why hasn't Chitranjan kakasa replied to my scroll yet? Our messenger left 5 days back... the message must have reached him days ago...'

At the Stables..

Anxiously awaiting news of his friend, the young man pulled out a long grass from a heap of soft Earth close to where he sat, skilfully shuffling the blade of grass from one finger to the next. And then, from next finger to the last.

All of a sudden, he glimpsed up, alerted to the beat of oncoming hooves 'Ai Khuda... please... let it be good news...' he prayed for the wounded pet that lay beside him. But before that prayer could be completed, his mate's long face had given away the outcome.

It was not good news.

'Khan Sahib' Azeez leapt off his steed even before it'd come to a stop, and nimbly hastened up to the man 'Not before tomorrow morning...'

'Darn' crushing the blade of grass and throwing it aside, Akbar ruffled through a few strands of hair in frustration 'If the Hakim cannot get here before morning, Bahadur's injuries might get seriously infected... and... and...' he stopped.

'Nothing will happen to you, my friend... I will drag that stubborn Hakim here, if I would have to use force to do it!' having patted its neck supportively, the determined young man then stood up 'Ibrahim... Azeez... handle the stables... Sayyid come on... let's go...'

'Khan Sahib...' Azeez interrupted, though in two minds if he must bring up this information now 'While riding up here, I noticed the Sahiba walking along with a couple of her guards... I think she's on her way to meet you...'

'Actually... THERE they are...' Ibrahim indicated towards four specks, emerging upon the fields 'What do you want to do?'

Brusquely turning around thereon, he let out a loud whistle - a signal - and out trotted another horse from the stables. 'Handle the matter, Ibrahim... I'm off...' he instructed, whilst grabbing a saddle from a stall nearby and flinging it upon the horse's back.

All set to leave, Akbar was about to jump atop and dash off - but what should have taken him less than a moment, seemed to take much longer. His boots remained grounded on the spot - a small part of him not allowing his feet to take off just yet. Not once he'd gotten a clearer picture of her.

In one hand, she held aside a small pleated bunch of skirt to stop its edges from getting in the way. In the other hand, she managed both - her veil of shimmering summery-yellow silk, and a sleek wooden cane to help with the uneven surfaces. Gracefully armed thus, the Sahiba was scaling the stretches of greenery, resembling the radiant sun rising from the fields, her elegance undiminished even during an awkwardly-inconvenient adventure such as this.

And it was this rare picture, which somehow got him to think that if an heiress had gone through all that trouble to get here, the matter could not be so trivial.

So, he temporarily set aside those strong impulses to 'dash-off', and saved everyone valuable time by striding up to her.

'Salaam Khan Sahib...' she wished the man.

'Salaam...' he clipped short his greeting.

Recognising the haste in his tone, she got straight to the point 'I heard that your horse suffered an accident... I was asked to come take a look at it...'

'What!' he lifted a brow, astonished by the very suggestion 'and who might have asked you to take a look at it?'

'Chacha Sahib...'

'Chacha jaan!' Just as he'd guessed! 'No wonder he suddenly had some urgent business in the market...' Akbar briefly shut his eyes, trying to get a grip on the annoying developments 'There's been a mistake, Sahiba... I was leaving to fetch the Hakim now...'

'But, I was told your veterinarian is away in a distant town... and that's the sole reason I agreed to come...'

'Well... this Hakim is a respected professional... he has been treating my horses all along... and 'HE' is the only one I trust my animals with!'

'Fair enough' Heera nodded, reminding the 'Hakim' in herself that she mustn't take his frank admission personally 'Are you certain its condition will not worsen, till your return?'

'Why? What makes you think its condition will worsen?'

'Your horse has become lethargic... exhausted... has it lost a lot of blood?'

'Fine...' he nodded, since the Sahiba was making absolute sense. Besides, for all of his in-depth knowledge about racing horses, he was no veterinarian. So, he decided to take the bait 'Have you treated animals before?'

Heera shrugged 'I've cured many people before...'

Staring at the Lady for a deliberate pause, the stern young man shook his head 'Then, I can't let you handle my horse!'

'Khan Sahib... I haven't come here to prove myself' she gently tilted her head in the direction of the guest quarters 'I am hosting a feast today... in honour of my sister... I left all that behind at the request of Chacha Sahib to help treat your pet... but since you've made it quite clear that you don't need my assistance, I shall return to my work now...'

She began retracing her steps - no frown on her brows, no ill will in her heart.

And about 3 steps on, she heard him.

'Harka Sahiba...'

Her pace slowed.

'Harka Sahiba?'

It was the first time he'd taken her name - and my, had he done it with flair. A short sigh later, she turned around 'Yes?'

The man was facing the direction of his injured horse 'You may go ahead... and examine Bahadur...' he announced, startling one and all in that stable-yard - even his closest mates - with that announcement. It was partly desperation, but mostly trust and instinct, that got Akbar to do something he'd never done before - reverse his decision.

However, when the Lady didn't move from her spot, he knew why, and amended the tone of his request 'Sahiba... please, take a look at Bahadur...'

A faint smile fringed on her lips. 'I will...' she nodded.

Sometime later..

'Finally...'

Some skill and lot of perseverance was what it took - the thorn was plucked out at long last!

But when it came to the larger splinters caught within the folds of torn skin, Bahadur was not going to be fooled into co-operating. And no sooner than she slipped her fingers towards the sharp fragments, the stallion whinnied and jerked its torso defiantly, showing its displeasure towards the unfamiliar Lady for poking and prodding at its injuries.

Heera put down her reading stone and sat back upon the rocky ground 'Khan Sahib' she muttered to the young man, who was kneeling on the other end 'Bahadur has to have the entire portion of that powder... if it doesn't calm down and stay absolutely still... I would never be able to do the stitches!'

A droplet of sweat trickled down from his temple and fell upon his forearm as he paused to take a breather, his eyes fixed upon the potent powder that sat untouched - a herbal sedative.

Gliding his hand around his cummerbund, Akbar reached over for a pouch tucked underneath and pulled it out. Unfastening its drawstring, he removed the peanuts from within - the pet's favourite treats - and dangled the delicacy in front.

As soon as Bahadur recognised what was on offer, it opened its mouth to gobble up the nuts. And that is when Akbar managed to skilfully slide in both - an ordinary set of peanuts and some that'd been mixed with the powder.

Three such attempts, and the horse realised it was being misled - but those three attempts were enough to feed him the sedative.

A short interval thereon, and Bahadur was already showing signs of calming down. With a co-operative patient to work with, Heera found it easier to do what she'd come to.

'Only skin deep... not life threatening...' she deduced, on examining the injury and the amount of blood it'd lost 'Plenty of water... plenty of rest and a strong young stallion like this should recover within 3... 4 weeks...''

That reassurance got Akbar to breathe a huge sigh of relief 'I told you, didn't I?' he muttered to Bahadur 'You are going to be fine...' he bent low and patted the horse's neck - unperturbed by the fact that his reactions were being watched.

And it wasn't just this reaction, but all of his interactions with the pet, that Heera had been noting in silent amazement. She was aware that the young man was attached to his horse, but it was only now that she'd gotten to see how strong a bond they shared. An endearing bond indeed!

Smiling to herself, the Lady was about to move on to the next protocol, when her gazes fell upon his palm that was resting upon the horse's neck and thus, upon the fresh bluish-red bruises on one side of the wrist.

It didn't take long to identify what had caused it - the ink-stand that he had famously cracked in two..

'Keep your hands to yourself... or I will crack their bones too!'

Just as her heartbeat began striking up an unusual rhythm, Heera glimpsed away from the small discovery she'd stumbled upon, to revert to the treatment.

'Time to stitch-up that nasty wound' she told her aide 'please hold the lens for me...'

Once her assistant did as told, Heera gently cut off the frayed corners of skin, her eyes focusing through the lens for greater clarity. She then began suturing shut the skin. It took a few initial trials to get the knack right since it was her first attempt at working with animal skin - but once her fingers grew comfortable, the process was completed swiftly.

And before long, she was giving the master her final set of instructions 'Your Hakim should be able to administer the appropriate kind of medicines tomorrow... but for the meanwhile, the herbal paste I've applied should prevent any infections.'

'Thank you' he responded with a simple nod. It wasn't a fancy acknowledgement of her timely help, just like she hadn't spoken elaborate words of gratitude for protecting her maids.

But the appreciation was there. She had sensed it in his actions, like he had seen it in her smiles.

'We are hosting a feast in honour of my sister this noon, Khan Sahib...' she mentioned cordially before she started to depart, 'you are welcome to join us...'

Later that noon..at the main Haveli..

'Chacha jaan...'

'Ibrahim...'

'Azeez...'

'Sayyid...'

'Sahib...' rushed a stable attendant inside, on hearing his master calls 'is there something I can help you with?'

'Haven't they returned from the luncheon yet?'

'No Sahib...' he shook his head 'but they left you a message... requesting you to join them, if you can...'

'Alright... alright...' he dismissed the attendant.

Hurling a glance at the unforgiving sun outside the window thereafter, he decided to make his trek towards the quiet kitchens of his haveli. It was past noon and with all the troubling events that'd taken place from dawn, he hadn't had the opportunity to eat.

The young man had to admit - he was absolutely famished.

However, when he got to the kitchens, there was nothing.

The pots sat in their corners, untouched. The plates hadn't been moved from their shelves. There was no sign of food anywhere. Not a single morsel. Not even of leftover bread.

'So you weren't joking when you said, you've grown tired of cooking for me, Chacha jaan?'

The quiet question might have been uttered in jest, but his pitch was laced with heavy doses of poignancy.

Unmindful of a headache that was thumping every muscle in his head, he leaned his shoulder against the wall, observing the desolate interiors of the kitchens, the emptiness weighing heavy on him.

* * *

Many years ago, a boy used to stand the same way in the empty kitchens of his Abbu's mansion, his weakened shoulders leaning against the wall, while his eyes scoured the place for signs of food. Even at 12, he was a handsome youth, but one would have to see through layers of sweat, tears, dirt, blood, illness, exhaustion and scars of abuse to recognise that.

It would be late noon by the time he would complete all of his chores, like it was now, and his body would be famished. But there would be nothing left. The members of that house would have eaten. The managers would have eaten. Why, even the maids would have been fed. But not this fatherless boy.

Yet, no one would care. And those who did, were too frightened to raise a voice.

All, except one - Abbu's old servant, who swept the kitchens.

When no one was watching, the elderly man would ravage through whatever ingredients he could lay his hands on and whip up a hot meal for the child. Some days wouldn't be so fortunate, and he would have to go so far as to steal a few pieces of bread so the boy wouldn't go to bed hungry.

'Made this especially for you...' the man would say, as he'd secretly place the plate in front.

'Thank you...' the boy would say, and gobble up the meal. The salt in the food would sting his chapped boyish palms and bleeding knuckles, like acid on a burn - but raging twinges of hunger would numb all of that. The rice would be under-cooked and coarse, the meat over-spiced. But, he would relish each morsel.

And, not only did the kind old slave feed this youth, he clothed him too - many-a-time stitching up the rips on the tunics himself. And this he did not only so it'd keep the boy protected from the weather, but also so it would cover the tracks of burns and lashes on his back - marks which other children chose to ridicule him about.

'Chacha jaan...' the 12 year old would smile with gratitude ever so often 'when I grow older and become a big man... I'll take you away with me... I'll care for you... and I promise... I'll eat no one else's food, but yours... I've become so used to your delicious dishes...'

'Thank you...' the servant would respond with a warm smile. Of course, he assumed that those words were merely a hungry boy's appreciation of his efforts.

But for the 12 year old, those words were a pledge he'd meant with all of his little heart. A promise he would keep up many years later too.

After all, it was the selfless service of an elderly servant, which served to remind a boy during his most vulnerable years that not everyone had abandoned him yet. That not all people were out to abuse him. That humanity was still alive.

Today that boy had grown into a powerful young man, with the world at his feet. If he wished, he could have the finest Mughalian chefs working in his kitchen. He could afford to order a banquet in the noon, a feast at night, and there'd be numerous servants waiting to do as he pleased.

But how much ever this young man might have hardened up, there were some scars that could never be forgotten. And for all the power that he might have accumulated over the years, there was still a small corner of his heart that anguished over the home that was snatched away, over the innocence that was cruelly lost.

And Chacha jaan's barely-edible food was one of the few sane memories from a very muddled adolescence that continued to remind Akbar of that lost innocence. That he could continue to relate to, as the 'home' he never had.

Guest Quarters, Aidabad..

'Baisa...'

'What is it now?' she sighed at the unexpected intrusion - if this was another problem Gokul had brought her to tackle, the timing couldn't possibly be worse. She turned around, tempted to offload her exasperations upon the young guard - but the sensible young lady that she was, Heera managed to curb her reactions in time 'Yes, Gokul?'

'Baisa... I just wanted to inform you...'

'Yes...'

'Khan Sahib arrived... a short while ago...'

'Oh!' Her limp fingers instinctively stiffened around the borders of her veil 'Khan Sahib arrived a short while ago?'

'Yes baisa... for the luncheon... in fact he must have finished his meal, by now...'

'So he DID come?' Her worry lines gradually lightened - a sign that the befuddled thoughts in her mind had begun levelling out. Heera wouldn't disagree - the news had left her a little surprised.

'Baisa...' Gokul paused, unable to determine what to make of his baisa's ongoing silence 'we didn't inform you earlier .. but, don't worry... Daya banna was there, to supervise the arrangements... and Maharaj kakasa personally served him the food.'

'Thank you Gokul...' she nodded - before temporarily setting aside all other duties and proceeding towards the reception rooms, to take on the short role of a hostess.

'Anyway baisa... you needn't worry about the luncheon here...'

'Yes baisa... it went very smoothly...'

'Khan Sahib enjoyed the meal...'

'There... he's sitting there...' the ladies parted, making some space so she'd be able to have a better view.

'Can you see him, baisa?'

But before Heera could reply, the enthusiastic maids had drowned her words - they apparently had more titbits that they couldn't wait to share

'Kadhi... achaar... kichdi... ghewar...'

'Dal... gatte sabzi... rice... Marwari mirchi...'

'He ate it all...'

'He liked most of it...'

'But baisa, what he loved the most, were Maharaj kakasa's laddus... he must have eaten at least 4 of them...'

'And the khoba roti too... kakasa made fresh khoba rotis, especially for Khan Sahib...'

'Hush! You silly ladies...' shushed another group of maids playfully 'you'll end up casting an evil eye on his plate...'

'It's not manners to speak that way...'

'I agree... he is a well-built young man... he must have been hungry...'

'Moreover, this is a household without women in it... he mustn't have tasted the kind of feast he tasted today...'

Heera had said nothing - she'd realised that it was entertaining enough to watch them in silence, as they continually spoke over one another, to give her a detailed account of the feast.

At first, the scenes of dining on the other side of the screens, were a hazy blur. But once her eyes had adapted to the new surroundings, Heera found herself struck by a second wave of surprise.

Encircled by the pleasant company of his men. Attended to, by maids and guards. Accommodated quite comfortably amongst bolsters and cushions of red velvet. Presented with a rich array of Marwari food. And served by the renowned Maharaj himself.

The young man who was at the centre of it all, looked a far cry from the 'lone stranger' she'd met a week ago. Instead, he looked every bit like the head of a large household, like the lofty 'Sahib' of this haveli.

Of course, he was still his typically reserved self - unruffled by the attention, laughter and mirth. However, today, he didn't seem averse to all that ruckus either - at least, not as averse as she assumed he'd be. It was as though Khan Sahib didn't mind - at least for a short while - the change in lifestyle and routine.

Why, even his attire indicated the same. Having abandoned his rustic cotton tunics, the young man had chosen to don a more appropriately formal Persian-styled attire of fine red silk, embroidered with threadwork of beige and gold. His sharp features had somehow forgone their severity too, trading it for expressions that were more peaceful. Expressions that made him appear charming. And refined. And gentlemanly.

'Harka!' hurriedly reminding herself that she'd been staring for longer than she should have, she averted her gazes, in case the maids assumed something wrong.

But those longer-than-should-have stares hadn't gone entirely unnoticed.

Despite the distractions, and the screens, and his apparent preoccupation with the feast, this 'charming gentleman' was well aware of how closely those gazes had been observing him - and for how long too. So, he decided to return the favour.

Once he'd washed his hands in a bowl of rose water and patted them dry with a muslin, he stood up, marking the end of that sumptuous meal.

Then, tying his hands behind his back like a true aristocrat, he directed his glances straight at her. Through the screens and the veils, he beheld her graciously, ensnaring the Lady's attention once again.

It was for a rare moment, but he didn't flinch or blink. Neither was he concerned by the people watching him.

Maybe it was the continued gratitude he felt towards her for having saved Bahadur's life that prompted him to do it.

Therefore, before returning to his desolate existence; he wanted to look her in the eye, and thank her once, for bringing a few rays of sunshine into his dim world. For giving him this opportunity to taste a selflessly satisfying meal. And for giving him a glimpse of how a real home felt.

Raising his right hand, Akbar tilted forth and brought the palm up to his forehead as an official 'Thank you', leaving Chacha jaan, Ibrahim, Sayyid and Azeez literally astounded with this gesture. This man, who was no fan of courtly formalities, had offered this Sahiba an 'Adab'!

But Akbar had done it, because it was the symbolic Mughal gesture offered to those who were either high-ranking, or respectable - and Harka Sahiba was both.

As soon as Heera realised what it was that the Sahib was doing, a soft gasp replaced the half smile that'd been adorning her lips. Her stoic features that'd never known of any such emotions, felt their first rush of heat - leaving her fair cheeks a few shades closer to the colour of her glossy lips.

And just as she was coming to terms with the unexpected 'adab', she believed she spotted something else quite astonishing - something that'd stopped her thoughts in their tracks. She believed she'd spotted the smallest hint of a smile on his face, as he brought his palm up!

'But, a smile? From Khan Sahib?' her sense of logic was quick to dismiss the notion 'Unlikely...'

Sadly, this was a question that would remain a mystery - for, she could neither see clearly, nor ask anyone else about it. And of the few instances in life that she regretted suffering from poor sight, this was one.

Nevertheless, Heera subsequently reciprocated, with the traditional Rajasthani salute that conveyed her honest answer 'You're welcome'..

'Ai Khuda... what a long day it's been!'

A steady breath escaped his lips, as he stood still - as still as the darkness around him. Till an odd gust of wind barged in through the large window to his left, and brought with it a distant sound of a chirping cricket.

Resting his forearms upon the dresser thereafter, he viewed the contents of a large brass bowl - chilled water infused with scents of sandalwood-musk. However, instead of taking his tunic off, splashing his face with a few handfuls, and be done with the routine nightly ritual, he glanced up. At the mirror hanging in front.

The reflection showed the face of a young man, who often sought as his loyal bedtime companion, the black shadows of midnight - since this young man had learnt the hard way that 'sleep' would cheat him often, leaving him abandoned on many-a-night.

Tonight was possibly going to be no different.

Additionally, there were plenty of issues to keep him awake too. The day had been quite an erratic one - even by his standards. At first, the accident. Followed by, the theft. Then, Bahadur's surgery. The feast. Problems with the Hakim. And plenty more to list.

Yet, for whatever reason, that face-in-the-mirror was not as worn out as it should be. It appeared to possess a strange sense of serenity.

'Serenity?' he mused at his odd choice of word, as he took his hand to the top knot of the red silk tunic - the one he'd worn for the feast.

He undid the first knot. And then the second, revealing a taut chest that possibly cradled a heart somewhere in it. This was a part of him that'd felt quite empty from within for many years now. So empty that it never let him enjoy any sense of 'serenity'. And definitely, never let him find a reason to smile.

Yet somehow, today, he'd been tempted to smile. Not once, but twice.

'Could you possibly sing him a song, then Khan Sahib? To try and lull it into a slumber... so I might start the treatment?'

Was a woman's innocent smile always this intoxicating? And this contagious?

Despite being sick and injured, it was a strong beast, heavier than five grown men, and mighty stubborn too. It did not like the smell of that strange medicinal powder, and would not touch it - how much ever they tried!...

* * * * * *

This morning in the Stables...

'Does Bahadur like music?' Heera asked softly..

'Huh?' Akbar huffed with a shrug 'Maybe...'

'Could you possibly sing him a song, then Khan Sahib?' her tone sounded sincere 'To try and lull it into a slumber... so I might start the treatment?'

'Absolutely not... ' the flustered young man was about to protest - so engrossed had he been in the exhausting exercise that he'd initially failed to see her suggestion for what it was - a joke.

Till she broke out into a soft fit of giggles.

Akbar looked up with a piercing stare, to defy the lady who was amusing herself at his expense. But the confrontation that followed, was not the kind of confrontation he'd set out to achieve.

Because it was a trap - and he'd fallen right into it.

The young man hadn't stared in her direction all along - mainly out of respect, but also to dodge those enticing gazes of hers - which'd kept him immune to her charms.

Till he met the marvel that were her smiles. Heard the music that were her giggles. And witnessed the bewitchingly feminine manner with which she bit down upon her tender lips.

Never had he caught her smiling before - or he would have known to steer clear of this trap. For, it was an addicting sight. A sight, which the mind wanted another glimpse of. And another. And another. Till the viewer was thoroughly sucked in...

...

* * * * * *

His conscience had begun taunting him, slowly rehashing incidents from all of last week!

'What have you been doing?' it seemed to ask 'Don't you realise that the ground you're treading on, is extremely risky? One step more, and you'll fall... worse, you'll pull her down with you. The Sahiba doesn't know the truth... that's why she's breaking out into fits of innocent giggles... and inviting you to a luncheon... but YOU are aware of the truth, aren't you? Then, why are you indulging her smiles...' he heaved a few more dashes of water on his face - possibly so the rough reminders would hit home harder 'At first, you returned the 4 dams because you did not want her money... fine... but why carry on with the conversations thereafter... what's this never ending fascination with her vision and skills about... why the need to communicate in Marwari... or to talk about your charity work? And the conversations don't even end there... so, what are you trying to prove, Akbar Khan? And, to WHOM?'

'Ridiculous!' his conscience jolted him out of the lull 'It IS your fault... you shouldn't have allowed it get to this... because it's YOUR decision to adopt a lifestyle so dangerous, that it has no place for women in it... and, why are you bridging gaps now... that too, with THIS Sahiba, out of all ladies! What would you gain by knocking on this door now? Is it to find out if she holds the cure for this never-ending pain of yours? Even if she has the secret remedy, you'll never live to enjoy it... you'll die and get her killed too! So muster that adamant determination of yours... don't let your wall of resistance show cracks... you need to show discipline... fight temptation, now more than ever!'

'Yes... you're right!' hurling aside the towel, he grabbed a fresh cotton tunic from a trunk nearby and slipped it on 'I have to leave tomorrow morning to catch up on my work... wouldn't return to Aidabad for two days... hopefully, the Sahiba and her party would've left the haveli, before I get back!'

One large camp.

A group of 40 boisterous men.

A seemingly long half-an-hour had passed.

And yet, there was absolute stillness. No movement anywhere.

Except, of course, for the men at the centre - two of them to be precise.

Because the soldiers knew -

That their Huzoor, the Shehzaade, preferred it quiet when he was engaged in a game of cards.

Especially, when the card game being played was Ganjifa.

And all the more so, when one of his favourite opponents was part of the competition!

'Ustaad...' Shehzaade mulled under his breath, looking at the Wazir card sitting beside the Safed-shah card in his hand 'how do I win this round against you?' And in order to win the round, he had to figure out his opponent's winning cards and moves. So, he subtly glanced up - to see if he could guess from his competitor's expressions, what sort of a set he was holding.

Testing his luck further, Shehzaade tried taking a peek at his opponent's hand. As expected, another futile pursuit. The clever manner in which the deck of cards had been tucked between the fingers meant no one would be able to steal a glimpse, any which way. How ironic that a pair of strong hands that were capable of crushing enemy skulls with brute force - were just as capable at handling a deck of precious Ganjifa cards with splendid tact.

Well, the man wasn't called an Ustaad, a 'Master', for no reason.

'I'll win this round...' the prince vowed.

He had to use the last trick he knew - a few clever mental calculations to figure out his odds at winning the game. So, while his mind started doing the maths, the sly man decided to buy some time by delving into idle chatter..

'Ustaad...' he spoke up, his authoritative tone dispelling the still air 'What is your opinion on the tribes up North? That war shows no sign of ending... and I'm running out of resources and ideas.'

'My opinion? Pardon my insolence, Huzoor...' he mused 'but isn't it true you want my opinion now, only so you can divert my concentration from the game!' The remark was polite, but the tone had an unmissable blunt edge to it.

'Ya Allah!' the prince laughed off the shrewd guesswork 'You KNOW I always value your opinions, don't you?'

Ustaad said nothing in reply for a moment.

And that telling moment was enough for the prince to sense that the man's earlier remark hadn't been made in jest.

Surprised by the scepticism, Shehzade put down his cards and slowly arched forward from the backrest - thus dragging down the light-hearted ambience in that camp to a sure death 'Value your opinions? Then, WHY do you think I've been calling you by your title 'Ustaad'?' he queried, returning the man's steady glances with firm glares 'Because, if the 'heir to the Mughal Empire', calls you by that title... everyone else... younger OR older to you... HAS to call you by that title too! Now that is the kind of regard I've showed, over the years... so do not repeat the mistake of bringing up this subject... next instance, I might not answer so patiently...'

'And I've always appreciated your gestures...'

'Then speak up... what's on your mind...'

'If you value my opinions so highly, why is Khalil still a free man?' Ustaad asked, without so much as batting an eyelid - something very few would've dared to do so, since this particular Shehzaade was notorious for being more ill-tempered and impulsive than anyone else in his family. Then again, unlike the others, Ustaad was never fearful of saying or doing what he believed in 'Khalil and his soldiers are turning into something we'd never stand for... something Islam never stands for!'

Shehzaade immediately raised a stern palm in response. And the rest of the members took the hint - that they must leave.

Thereafter, the remaining players at the table surrendered their cards and exited the tent, one by one.

Then, the soldiers followed suit.

Once they'd been left alone, the prince did something he generally never had the patience to do - decided to clarify his stance to the man, just this once 'I despise what Khalil's done... which is why, I punished him by removing him from this assignment... I banished him to Kabul, while I hid the fact that I'd already handed over the Parnagarh assignment... all this, despite the fact that he could've been winning wars for me here...' a sarcastic huff escaped his mouth 'whatever his flaws, Khalil still remains my most powerful general... take pride in what you've created, Ustaad... besides, most of your recruits have turned out to be fine soldiers, otherwise!'

'Pardon me Huzoor... but as a soldier of Islam, I cannot take pride in the fact that I mentored Khalil into something so powerful... the man's literally unstoppable now!'

'What more must I do? Have him imprisoned? Killed?' Shehzaade scoffed 'When I come to power, I will make laws... and punish all those who defy Islam... but at THIS point, I am in need of supporters... if I start punishing soldiers who've committed crimes, I'll be left with no men!' By the end of that declaration, he was nearly yelling. Swiftly realising that the subject was taking an unpleasant turn, he decided to shift the discussion in another direction - at least for a while 'Forget about all this for now... tell me, my dear friend... any news of the Farmaan yet?'

Following a tense pause, Ustaad placed his cards, facing down, on the table 'Not yet, Huzoor!'

'That darned Farmaan! Have the cursed fires of Hell swallowed it?' the prince grit down on his teeth, whelmed by a quiet surge of frustration 'Such a simple task... and yet, it's been eluding my best men...' It took him a few deep breaths and a few verses from the Quran, before he could return to his cold-composed self 'nevertheless... any news about the Sahiba?'

Ustaad's glances grew guarded.

'I mean... any news about the younger heiress, Harka Sahiba? Any updates... or thoughts on her?'

'Nothing much' he frowned, as his attention veered away from his Master's glares for the first time, and towards the tent flaps in the backdrop, to observe Mother Nature's own painting of a sunset oblivion beyond it.

ANY thoughts on her? Well, he had plenty. Plenty of news and updates too that he could convey if he wanted to, as part of idle talk. After all, he'd stumbled across quite a few small facts about her over the past two weeks, which they hadn't known about at the start...

'I am blind... actually, partially blind!'

[Journey continues]

HIDING BEHIND

(Abridged)

Chapter 12.

Point - Counterpoint

A Royal camp in the wilderness..

His tired glances drifted across his camp - groups of soldiers, who lay wearily under the life-giving shade of tall trees, seeking respite from the blistering rays of the midday sun. The royal party of Bansi had only left Manswar a day ago, and there was still a very long way to go. But the journey ahead, or the harsh travel conditions was the least of the king's concerns. What troubled him, was the fact that a 'third' group of his soldiers had returned - with no news of his daughter's whereabouts.

'Thirteen days...' he leaned back on the cushions of his makeshift divan, while the maids took the cue and began fanning the monarch with peacock-feather fans 'Thirteen days... and I still haven't been able to locate you... but, YOU know how to reach Bansi... you should have at least sent your kakisa a message... don't you realise how worried we'd be?' he dabbed his cheek with a muslin cloth - unsure if it was sweat or tears that he was dabbing off 'I have good news for you, and for Parnagarh... your wedding has been fixed with Kunwar Mahendar... Rajasa and Ranisa have given their blessings too... but, where ARE you, bitiya? Why haven't my soldiers found you? Are you in some sort of trouble? Are you in hiding? Have you disguised yourself like a commoner, amongst common folk? Or are you hiding amongst strangers? My heart tells me that you're fine... but a father's worry, is a father's worry!'

That night, the king would send another group of soldiers - a fresh search party - to comb through the surrounding regions, in hope of locating his beloved god-child.

Battle Camp..

'Most days, are good... and I can use my sight to get by... on those days that are bad, I use my senses to get by...'

Stumbling-across-unknown-facts was rarely ever the case for this Ustaad though. Because, being the thorough professional that he was, he always made it a point to learn every single detail about his assignments, before he took them on - except on this assignment, unfortunately!

After having dealt with several complicated enemy-groups of the Shehzaade in his job as an Intelligence Officer - he hadn't really thought much of this paltry Parnagarh issue when it'd been given to him. At least, not until he'd truly confronted the 'assignment' - aka Harka Sahiba - whom he was meant to keep under surveillance.

So yes, the young man had to admit - for the first time in his life, a particular case had caught him off-guard.

Nevertheless, he would have to make up for the lapses - before the entire tangled web spiralled into something disastrous.

'Ustaad Akbar Mahmoud Khan!' Shehzade snapped his fingers, to grab the man's attention 'I asked, if you'd had a chance to meet the Sahiba... but you seem lost in thought...' a hint of aristocratic arrogance seeped into his tone 'what happened? Is she really as beautiful as people say, she is?'

'Probably...' Akbar said, deflecting any further chatter on the subject with a mild shrug. He couldn't really say the truth now, could he? That all those eloquent words 'people' generally used to describe the Parnagarh heiress, were insufficient for the unparalleled beauty that she was in reality. That even the finest court poets and royal painters hadn't been able to justify the true virtue of her looks in their art..

So, he said nothing...

' 'Probably'? Is that all you could come up with?' a curt chuckle from the Shehzaade, tore through the ongoing bout of silence 'Any other man would've used this opportunity to gossip about her... But YOU, my friend, are much too dignified for that!' and the very next instant, his expressions morphed from 'lively' to 'serious' with remarkable ease , 'The Farmaan, Ustaad... you're positive it's not with the Parnagarh group?'

'Yes, Huzoor...'

'How? Did you manage to have their belongings searched?'

'All of them, including the Sahiba... genuinely believe that they've lost the Farmaan... Chacha jaan has become quite friendly with a few men in their troupe... and a couple of them blurted out this information to him yesterday...' his brows knitted into a contemplative frown 'my guess is that Durga Sahiba has hid it someplace, that no one knows about...'

'But, why wouldn't Durga Sahiba mention it to her own sister then?' Shehzaade scratched his temple in vexation 'At least we're now certain that they don't have the Farmaan with them... anyway, how extremely fortunate for you that they were attacked by the tribes at that point... made it much easier for you to guide the Parnagarh group into Aidabad... had they reached the Kingdom of Bansi, we'd still be assuming they have the Farmaan with them! So, good work there...' he paused, deep in thought 'Alright, my man... I'd given you two instructions at the start... one, to keep her safe, for the time-being... and two, to keep an eye on her ... of the two, I can clearly see you've followed the first one...' his comments were laced with obvious tinges of dark humour 'So, what about the second instruction... is there anything else I must know? How has the Sahiba reacted to the death of her sister? She must be planning something!'

Aha! Now there was the momentous enquiry - a question that Akbar had expected all along. Yet when it arrived, he found it tough to formulate an apt answer.

'How did she react to the death of her sister?'

Well, she'd reacted like a true noblewoman - with dignity and determination... 'M... my sister's life was brutally taken away... barely 10 days back...'

She was fighting back like the leader of a clan would, seeking justice by sending out persuasive letters to all kingdoms of Rajputana.

Anyhow; as an intelligence officer, it was his responsibility to confiscate those letters. So, his spies had secretly intercepted all the scrolls before they could reach any of the Rajput kingdoms. As an intelligence officer, he was also obliged to notify the prince of any such developments. Which is why he'd come, mentally prepared to report it.

However, just as Akbar was about to broach the topic, his words suddenly froze. He was left confronting an unfamiliar 'barrier' - a barrier that wouldn't let this committed officer fulfil his duty. A barrier that didn't allow him to betray this particular information about the Sahiba. A hurdle that he couldn't seem to overcome. Was it a voice in his head? A tug in his chest? He couldn't decide. But whatever it was, it'd stemmed from the conscience in his soul.

With his thoughts now moving in a hundred different directions, the man needed time to process what was happening. So, he decided to reveal the matter about the scrolls only AFTER he'd had a chance to clear his head. Till then, he would have to bury the dilemmas, and temporarily gloss over the issue.

'Her plans?' his sharp-witted mind scurried through all options, coming up with a convincing reply before long.. 'She's been sharing her grief with a few of her people from neighbouring Rajput Kingdoms... but, nothing alarming as of now...'

'I see... so you'll tell me if and when something comes up?'

Akbar's glances reverted towards the prince 'Undoubtedly, Huzoor'

The Shehzaade studied his officer's face closely. There was something different about the Ustaad's behaviour today. He was sure of it now. Of course, he wasn't aware of what it was that was playing on the man's psyche - but, he had his own ways to find out.

'Ustaad...' he hummed 'you seem quite distracted this evening... possibly because of this new assignment...My advisors were right... the Parnagarh assignment must be quite an inconvenience... especially when you already have so many other matters to attend to...' his crafty glares drifted towards his own fingernails, tinkering with their well-kempt edges as he continued 'Since I don't want to overburden you at this point, I can transfer the assignment... a few men from Khalil's army, have been idling around lately...'

'No Huzoor...' Akbar interrupted, his jowl beginning to tighten into steel, the veins on their sides pulsing with the added stress.

But a split moment later, he wrestled with those impulses to get a grip on himself.But despite all the training, staying poised had been no easy feat ..

There was a part of him that was raring to rip through his layers of restraint. To erupt into a kind of rage, he'd never experienced before. Two weeks ago he wouldn't have thought it possible, but somehow he'd become so instinctively protective of this assignment that his ego wouldn't let him detach himself from it, even mentally. And to such an extent that the mere mention of the name 'Khalil' in the same sentence as 'Harka Sahiba' had riled him up.

At the end, 'logic' had won its way, allowing him to mask the sinister undertones with a calmer explanation '...when I take up something I like to see it finished, Huzoor!'

'Ustaad...' The prince crossed his palms 'don't tell me that you don't trust ANY of the soldiers working under Khalil...'

'Huzoor... Khalil's men are not trustworthy either... he might be banished away in Kabul, but his men still work for him... in fact...' he blew a long hard breath 'I believe they're responsible for killing one of my informers...'

'What!' the prince was genuinely taken aback 'Who?'

'Chota Faizan...' Akbar scowled.

'But, what happened? Why was Faizan killed?'

'He was bringing me information, Huzoor... Khalil had allied with someone before storming into Parnagarh, to help him get the Farmaan... Chota Faizan had found out the name of this person... but... he was murdered before he could get the information to me...'

Manswar.

'I'll inform him... the next time I ride to the capital...'

'Oh!' Ibrahim turned to his master with a confounded frown, not knowing what to make of the fact that he hadn't disclosed such a significant matter to the prince yet. But before he could question him any further, he was interrupted.

'We'll discuss it later' said Akbar, before whistling out a loud tune - a tune that Bahadur instantly recognised as its telltale call.

The elated pet peeped over its back to locate its Sahib standing in the fields, as did the rest of the retinue from the gardens.

And for whatever reason, when Heera spotted his silhouette, her first thoughts were 'Welcome back'.

The very presence of him, posing handsomely tall with his hands behind his back in the midst of his lands, seemed to bring some 'life' to a place that'd felt quite forlorn the past 3 days. Maybe that's why there was a saying - however crowded, a house is empty without its master.

'How ironic' she thought the very next moment 'that someone so quiet and reserved could breathe 'life' into a place!'

[Journey continues]

Kunwarsa,

I write to extend my heartfelt condolences at this tragic juncture as we jointly mourn the demise of my sister, a great soul who stood by her principles till the very end, leaving an irreparable void in our lives following her death...

She put the lens down. She had just completed and signed the message to Kunwar Mahendar..

'It is fine, kakasa...' she muttered through the pain 'can be sealed...'

'Alright...' the forlorn manager replied 'I'll have this sent out... along with another message to Bansi'

'No kakasa... please wait...'

'Why?'

She needed a breather, to collect some strength before confessing her harrowing suspicions aloud 'I fear our scrolls might be getting seized... at least, some of them...'

'Seized?' The old man's eyes widened in alarm 'H... how? H... how are you sure?'

'Till yesterday, I tried being hopeful, kakasa... but it's eleven days today... and we've received no reply... our personal messenger who'd left for Bansi 5 days ago, has gone missing too... it's possible we're being spied upon...'

'What!' the shocking implication of what he'd just heard rattled every old bone in his body 'Spies? In Aidabad... or outside? D... do you suspect someone?'

Her heart sank, as soon as she heard that question. Because there WAS someone she'd suspected for a while.

'Don't worry about me... I've grown immune to such poisons and venoms...'

However, after a lot of pondering, those suspicions about the Sahib appeared 'unjustified' - even to the logical corner of her mind - since there were just too many things that didn't add up. Like, his attempts to save her life. His earnest concern for her well-being. His timely help to her people. The courtesy and empathy he'd displayed during jiji's funeral rites. And several such instances. On what basis could she discredit the Sahib then, when it made no sense to do so?

'Kakasa...' she exhaled long and hard 'Our scrolls have all been leaving Aidabad securely... so, my guess is that these spies are lurking in towns further away... outside Aidabad...'

'K... Khalil's men?'

'Yes...' she nodded, her head throbbing in anguish from simply picturing the horrors that awaited them if this news was true. After all, Khalil was their biggest enemy - the one who'd publicly vowed to finish her. 'Most probably...'

'Ma Bhavani! Save us!' Kaka's kind features blanched into a ghostly shade of white, 'B... but... what... if Khalil's men get hold of the scrolls that we've been sending out to the Rajput kingdoms...'

'Then my end could be very near' Heera answered to herself 'But... I did what I could, for the sake of justice...'

A sad frown continued lurking between her brows. She silently searched for a quick solution to shut down the oppressive images in her mind ... But what came to her rescue instead - was a voice. A stern voice that replayed in her mind, over and over, drawing her out from the suffocating jaws of helplessness..

'Just stay safe...'

The Canal..

'H...' he paused, inhaling a massive breath of air to counter the discomfort caused by the rising palpitations. Once he'd regrouped himself, he leaned over the entrance of the shaft, to yell out to the muqannis who were working underground.

'How much longer?'

The workers craned their neck upwards, shouting back so they would be heard 'Two more days Sahib...' their words echoed through the hollows of the water reservoir 'A large section of the wall has caved in, cutting off water supply to the canal... it'd take time to dig it up... and repair the wall'

Two more days of limited water supply? That would inconvenience everyone, and affect work at the stables too 'You men told me it'd take two days, two days back...'

'We are working hard, Sahib...'

'Well then work harder! I pay you handsomely for it, don't I?'

By the end of that instruction, he was light-headed again - his condition probably made worse by the fact that he'd been staring down dark tunnels for so long. The young man instinctively grabbed the shaft entrance for balance, when a sudden twinge in his hand sent him writhing in agony 'Argh!' he glared at the swollen portion of his arm 'When will this darned pain subside?'

'Akbar... we could've supervised this repair-work... why don't you take the rest of the day off? Your hand's still swollen... it must be extremely painful...'

'I said I'm fine!' he started his trek back, covering the distance from the canal to the meadows in large quick-footed strides -

However, no sooner had they reached the pastures than Ibrahim called out to him again - his voice rife with regard 'Akbar'

'I said I'm fine, didn't I?' he spun around vehemently - irritated by the constant badgering, irritated that he couldn't shake them off his trail however hard he tried. After all, there were too many queries in their eyes - queries that he didn't want to be cornered into facing. Because - unlike ever before - he did owe them an answer this time, and he had no answers to give 'I know what I'm doing, alright?'

'Do you really know what you're doing?' Ibrahim took one step ahead, confronting him man to man 'We've brushed aside all the unusual developments that we saw and heard in this mission... but doesn't THIS one go too far? Making it look like the cellar and the safehouse caught fire, might fool others... how could you think it'd fool us?'

'Akbar' implored Ibrahim, hating to have to see his wise and revered Ustaad unable to justify his actions. After all, this was a man most respected - a Master who questioned and corrected others. It was NOT meant to be the other way around. 'What are you doing, my friend? You understand the staggering implications of burning all that evidence... what would happen if the Huzoor ever found out?'

'At least, tell the three of us what's going on... so we can be prepared for what's to come!' added a dejected Sayyid.

Watching their attitudes thaw and their brotherly grudges subdue, Akbar shifted his glares aside. Even the harsh interrogation he could handle, but the growing concern in their eyes was an emotion tougher to deal with. Either way, he couldn't explain to them something that he'd barely grasped himself, could he?

'I do not expect you men to understand... so, I want you three to stay out of it...Yes stay out of it, both now and in future!'

His head was spinning, his arm suffering from acute twitches - but Akbar managed to keep up his former pace 'If any of this ever comes out in the open, I want you to confess that you weren't aware of anything... it's all on me... understood?'

'You might never share your thoughts with us... never form attachments... but you worry about shielding us from 'harm'... quite a paradox!'

The chilling declarations drew Akbar's hurried pace to a halt 'Azeez!' He furiously turned around to stop the boy from saying any further 'That is ENOUGH!'

'Here's another paradox, Khan Sahib...' Azeez persisted, undaunted by the warning 'We work for the Shehzaade, because we work for YOU... it's not the other way around!'

'I give you my word that this is a mission to me, nothing more... it shall not happen again... ' he pressed on 'please, my men...let's leave this discussion, as it is, shall we?'

It took them a short while, but the trio eventually accepted his pledge, with a slow nod.

The Meadows..

Bringing his footsteps to a gradual halt on a spot of green not far from where she reclined, he observed her...

Strangely, she hadn't reacted to their arrival. Was everything fine? Was she fine? Was she sleeping? It was hard to tell.

While his companions darted each other hesitant glances, Akbar decided to call out to her

'Sahi...'

'Good afternoon, Khan Sahib...' Heera wished him back, shaken out of a lull. She hadn't expected their presence in these parts of the meadows. And for reasons best known to her, the last person she'd hoped to meet at this point, and in this state, was HIM!

'I wasn't too well, so I'd stepped out for some fresh air... was just resting now, since I was unable to walk anymore... my maid will be back soon... she's left to fetch me my medicine... the grounds are large, hence her delay in getting back... that's all'n this state, was HIM! 'I wasn't too well, so I'd stepped out for some fresh air... was just resting now, since I was unable to walk anymore...my maid will be back soon... she's left to fetch me my medicine... the grounds are large, hence her delay in getting back... that's all'..

Figuring out that the young lady possibly wanted to be left alone, he retreated, as candidly as he'd arrived.

But a few yards on, and Akbar realised he was still in two minds.

'Keep walking... I'll catch up with you...' he announced to his men, out of the blue.

And giving his puzzled mates no further explanation, Akbar headed back to where she sat.

As an introvert who found it particularly hard to begin genteel conversations, odd situations such as this took him twice as long 'if it'd help, I can call one of my men to ride to the haveli to bring you the medicine... it'd be quicker that way...'

However, the lady neither accepted his offer - nor declined it at once.

'Obviously, shouldn't have come back'

Deciding to do them both a favour by leaving her to her own devices, he began taking off. Till a particularly bad spell of dizziness engulfed him, rendering him off-balance. Helpless, he caught onto the trunk of the tree to steady himself, as he dropped down on the grass to regroup himself.

'Are you alright?' her sullen reaction finally came..

'Yes...'

'Dizziness... because of the scorpion bite, isn't it? Have you had it examined?'

'Yes...' he brushed off the enquiry, making light of his condition 'I'm fine...'

'Khan Sahib...' she smirked lightly, a moment later 'you wanted to know if there's something that can be done to help?'

'Yes...'

'But, what COULD you do...'

'What?' He frowned, confused by the vagueness in her attitude

'What could anyone do...' she continued 'to lessen the pain caused by loss?'

'Loss?'

'The loss of a dear one...'

'Oh!' he understood - she'd been mourning for her sister all along, which is why she'd sounded so low. 'Darn' he exhaled subsequently - a reaction spurred by mixed feelings of compassion, awkwardness and guilt.

He'd stepped in, offering help, unaware that the 'pain' she was suffering from was more emotional than it was physical. Unaware that she was grieving.

If that was the case, he had no right being here..

Firstly, he wouldn't be able to utter a single sentence in comfort. But infinitely worse was the fact that this was about her sister - a lady, whose murderers he had a direct connection with - a fact that this poor Sahiba was ignorant of. 'Lord!' Akbar felt his insides cringe.

True, there were many ways he'd betrayed her over the past 10 days - but this was one betrayal he couldn't sit through.

'Khan Sahib' Heera came back, when she heard nothing from him 'That's why I said there's nothing you could do ...because there's no easy solution to overcome this pain.'

'You're right...'

'Which is why, we're forced to distract ourselves to forget the sorrow...' she added

'Yes...'

'But the wound never truly heals, does it Khan Sahib?'

'The wound never truly heals' It was Akbar's turn to suffer an unexpected pang of emotional 'pain', as the subconscious focus shifted, bit by bit, from her tragedies to his. The clause had somehow hit him hard - a reminder of how he'd never stopped grieving for his losses either. The Sahiba was describing her life, but she might just as well have been describing HIS. After all, just like her, he'd lost it all too - his father, his family, his childhood, his innocence, his home and his identity...

'These wounds never truly heal... which is why the pain never disappears completely...' he added, 'I wonder why God gives, if he must take away?'

'Yes, I wonder too!' she gasped under her breath - Ever since the tragedy, she'd shared her thoughts with no one, talked to no one about any of this - she assumed there would be none who could relate to her feelings. But here he was - the most unlikely person - mirroring her mind and language.

'And if God must take away... why take it away so cruelly...' she poured her heart out, turning to gaze at his silhouette as he continued gazing at the horizon 'leaving us alone in this world...Surrounded by many who care for us... but no one can understand this pain... no relationship that can fill this void easily...' she stopped, letting that last sentence linger in her mind '...no relationship that can fill this void easily'

Coming out of the haze, Akbar turned towards the lady beside him, gently recognising the forbidden direction that the conversation was heading towards.

He found gradually, he'd been sucked into saying things about himself he would never say otherwise. In fact, they were both being drawn into this vortex, unknowingly sharing their innermost secrets with the other.

Of course, her actions were justified - the Sahiba was lonely and sad, an innocent 16 year old, who had no idea of the horrid truth. It was up to him to end this, before they got carried away yet again. He must get up and leave. Now..

However, just before he could utter a few parting phrases, he was stopped in his tracks by her confession..

A confession that she hadn't told anyone else..

'I'm afraid Khan Sahib...'

There! She had finally admitted it - to someone! 'I wish I could be brave like jiji...' she crossed her trembling fingers 'Khan Sahib... even when she was surrounded by enemies, she cared for others... even in her last breath, she ensured I'd be safe...' her throat started swelling up, choking down her pitch.

'Jiji ran around the Haveli, with her eyes opened wide...

Every trick uncanny, she may have tried...

Every nook and cranny, she may have spied...

But never did she find me, because I know how to hide!'

'As children, we used to play a game often... hide and seek...' Heera continued 'I believed I could beat her at it easily...' a droplet of tear that'd been hovering around her eyes fell off 'I'd hide inside planters, trunks and urns... she'd act like she could never find me... and I would sing this poem to tease her...' a few tears made their way down her cheeks 'little did I know she would tease me back with those very lines, as her last words to me... now, I'm the one left searching... while she's found the perfect hiding spot, gone forever...' She broke down - crying in both sadness and relief, like a lonesome traveller stumbling upon some brief company would. She let the tears flow, exposing a vulnerable side that always remained shielded 'I miss her terribly...'

Akbar was aghast.

'Ai Khuda...' the young man ran his fingers across his brow - the gnawing ache in his arm caused by the scorpion bite was nothing compared to the gnawing ache of guilt eating away at his heart just then. And to think that he might be partly responsible for this pitiable state of hers!

'Darn...' he felt the knots in his chest twist tighter with every passing moment and wasted tear. If only he could do something to stop the tears. But as a man who never cared for feelings and sentiments, he'd never put himself in such situations before. He had no idea what must be said to comfort an upset lady.

In any case, not wanting to appear like a naive youth with nothing to do or say, he removed a muslin kerchief from his cummerbund and offered it to her 'Here Sahiba... all will be fine...'

Heera looked up, unable to make out what he was offering - her vision completely blinded by clouding mists of water. All she saw beside her was a flash of colour as he held his hand out. And at the lowest point in her life, she grabbed whatever she presumed was being offered. Without much thought, the overwhelmed young lady clutched onto his sleeve, and thus onto the strong of his arm, the droplets sliding along his tunic.

'Sahiba...' he whispered, attempting to diffuse the turn of events calmly, so as to not shame her 'a kerchief...'

But the Lady didn't need that gentle prompting.

Because, the peculiarity of the situation had hit her as soon as it'd happened. Coming to her senses the very next moment, she tried rectifying the embarrassing error by releasing his arm from her clasp with an apology.

'I am sorry...' Heera straightened herself, wiping her tears dry with the back of her palm 'I... my vision has been very poor today...'

'That's alright..

A few yards away..

'Baisa...' she tightened her grip around the medicine pot to stop it from falling off her hands - her mind still reeling from the shocking sight she'd just witnessed..

'No... no... no...' she glanced away in wishful thinking, desperately hoping this wasn't real 'My baisa is beyond reproach... she's purer than pure... I'm the one assuming wrongly...'

Dhani ended up blamed her own eyes for seeing things, vowing for the first time in her life, never to breathe of word of this scandal to anyone.

Later that night...

'Surrounded by many who care... but no one can understand this pain...'

Heera's thoughts had decided to revisit that 'sentence', before drawing shut to a close for the night.

'No relationship that can fill this void easily'

Unfortunately, she had let her guard down again - and a lot more than she should have. But he had reciprocated too - giving her a rare glimpse into his hidden self. Actually, the entire conversation with the Sahib had been oddly 'anonymous' - he didn't ask her much about Parnagarh, she hadn't asked him about his missing family. And yet they'd possibly shared their deepest secrets with one another.

Whatever said and done, it had turned out to be the most 'heart-to-heart' conversation she'd had with anyone since the tragedy.

If only, it hadn't ended on such an embarrassing note!

Heera sighed in stern disapproval of her own behaviour 'What would he think?'

Gazing at the blurry grey image of herself that the mirror showed, she touched her cheeks that were still warm from the confusing myriad of emotions.

Heera couldn't decide if she was as beautiful a Lady as people said she was - but, if she was, he would've noticed her beauty too, wouldn't he?

Why was she assuming such a thing? He was a recluse and a workaholic - why would notice her looks or spare thoughts about her? And why this juvenile urge to know his opinion of her? 'Not nice, Harka...' She sighed again, in sterner disapproval of those impulses that were straying into such an unholy territory.

'But...' she then remembered his expressions, when he'd greeted her after the feast. Especially when he'd offered her the 'adab' - there were glints of fascination in his eyes, weren't there?

Nudged by a gentle spurt of girlish curiosity, she held up her right palm and slowly brought it up to her forehead, imitating the adab he'd done. Pretending to be a Mughal woman for a moment. Quite a change from the Marwari salute she was used to. It felt so different. It felt new.

She gazed at her fingers. Somehow, they felt different too - after having touched a man today.. after having touched him. And now that she'd tried the 'adab' there was something else she was tempted to try. Something more brazen.

'No!' logic lashed back at once, strictly warning against doing so 'Behave like a respectable Rajput woman... like an heiress... think of your circumstances!'

Compelled to rein in those temptations, she stalled.

The internal war between temptation and logic brewed on for a long spell. Till temptation won its first battle against logic, in her young life.

Closing her eyes, Heera allowed herself to be sucked into an imagination... 'What if...'

Heera tenderly wrapped her palms around herself against the cold and darkness around her, lost in her own soft embrace 'what if...'

The tingle that'd started off in her arms spread to the rest of her body like an unchecked flame.

It was for a good while that the effects lingered.

But once the effects abated, it was logic that had the last laugh

'I told you not to, didn't I? You play with fire... then, don't cry when you get burnt! So much for the vow you'd taken only yesterday... well... looks like it DID happen again! And do remember you're leaving behind all this in a day...'

The main Haveli..

'And how about the tunic you're wearing, Sahib?' asked the errand-boy, as he finished his chores for the night 'Should I take it to the washerwoman's house in the morning... to have it washed? I don't think you've noticed... but it's got some stains...'

Those were the smudges caused by her kohl tinged tears when she'd mistakenly grabbed his sleeve instead of the kerchief, causing his heart to briefly soar then, just as it did during every instance that he tried not to think about it thereafter.

It was the most beautiful mistake she'd done - allowing him to savour the first gentle touch of a woman he cared for. HER gentle touch.

In another life, he might have then taken those stumbling fingers in his hands. Supported her delicate palms within his secure clasp, promising never to let them stumble again.

But that was the story of another life.

In this life, she was meant to leave for good to Bansi, while he would make preparations to head in the opposite direction - to Parnagarh.

'Yes these stains need to be washed away'

'Kakasa...'

The gentle voice from an adjacent room had stopped him from trotting off to the kitchens.

'Yes bitiya?'

Her chamber was abuzz with a flurry of activity - the maids busy packing away belongings - which she'd been keeping an eye on. But Heera had also been keeping an ear out for the conversations in the corridors outside.

'Kakasa, are there any laddus left?'

The next moment, she was quick to add 'For me?'

'Bitiya... there are approximately... 10... or... 12 pieces left...' kakasa hustled into her quarters, with the sweets on a fresh plate 'would these do? Or shall I make...'

'These would do...' the lady nodded warmly, as she signalled to a maid to bring forth the snack pouches

'I had no idea you loved them so much, bitiya... you've never been too fond of sweets before...'

Heera trivialised the subject with a casual shrug, aware that she was currently the subject of many-an-intrigued stare 'It's something to nibble on... during the journey... that's all... anyway thank you, kakasa...'

'Sure bitiya...'

Once the cook had left, she dropped most of the laddus into the first pouch and the remaining few into the second one, sealing them shut with tight knots. The second pouch was meant as nibbles for the journey, as she'd claimed. But the first was meant for him, probably as a parting token.

But how was she supposed to hand them to him? Sending it through maids or men would lead to needless gossip. Besides, she wanted to meet him, personally. Once. Before she left. Not a chance encounter outside the temple or in the meadows - but, an actual meeting. Maybe because she wanted to see his face, hear his voice, when she wished him a goodbye. Maybe since SHE'd spent many hours mulling over her farewell - she wanted to know if her departure had any effect on HIM at all.

'Gauri...' she mentioned with a subtle frown, suspecting that her friend would be able to read between the lines 'once all this is packed, I would like to step out for a walk in the meadows... will you join me?'

Meadows.

Embroiled in the kind of light conversation and laughter that they hadn't indulged in a long time, the friends, Heera and Gauri continued making their way upwards. Having passed through expanses of rolling fields that glistened green under the rays of the evening sun, they hiked towards the higher elevations, at the top of the meadows.

Eventually; they reached a summit at some point. Taking a short break, Heera turned around, to behold the scenes below - scenes that she would soon leave behind.

'I'll miss this place...' Heera sighed, her fingers toying with the precious diamond on jiji's ring 'it was the perfect halt... peaceful and isolated... kept us sheltered and safe... allowed me to mourn in peace and regroup myself for the challenges ahead...'

'Hmmm...' nodded Gauri - she couldn't really deny any of those facts.

'Why... I heard they haven't charged us rent since the day I treated Bahadur... that's nice of them...'

'Yes...'

'Khan Sahib must be thanked for all of this... before we leave...'

Sceptial, the chief-maid peeped at her Lady's face 'Yes...'

'Which is why...' Heera took a long breath, preparing herself for the criticism she was about to face 'I want you to take my message to him, Gauri...'

'Message?' Gauri enquired, apprehensive of what was to come

'I'd like to meet Khan Sahib in person...' Heera's voice faltered into a whisper 'and please keep it hush...'

'A private meeting?' the maid's gazes widened in alarm.'No... no... no... it could not possibly be so...' she looked on with many questions in her eyes - trying to bring to mind all sorts of reasons she could use to avert such a meeting 'But why must you meet him Heera? It's not needed... not conventional... besides, where do you have the time for this now?'

'I would like to convey my gratitude in person, Gauri...' Heera countered calmly, watching the rare signs of anxiety on a friend's face that generally stayed unruffled

'But, Ratan Kakasa can convey this gratitude, on behalf of all of us... and...'

'It was my life he saved twice, Gauri... not Ratan Kakasa's... so, 'I' would like to thank him for it, myself...Come let's walk up to the other side...'

The Canal..

'Let's sit by the canal bank, Gauri... you've never sat by one before...'

'There's no one around... maybe we should return...'

'Oh come on... the evening's lovely... and there's an hour before sunset...' she urged the maid, yearning to relive one more memory when she could 'let's spend a few moments here, at least...

* * *

'Oh my GOD! Come here quick...'

Startled by the shrill yell, Gauri dashed forward, taking two steps at once 'Wh... what happened...'

'Th...' she exclaimed, getting rid of the veil from her face 'there...'

'Wh... what? Where?' Gauri stuttered, turning to the direction that Heera's stares were fixated at, as though a ghost had been spotted in the open.

'C... can't you see that...' Her shaky fingers pointed down to an obscure corner in the canal 'please tell me it's not what I think it is...'

'Oh my God...' Gauri cupped her mouth when she noticed it too, the horror hitting her like a pile of sharp stones 'Y... yes... it... is...'

'It is a...'

'A b... body... in the canal...'

'A body in the canal? How? Who...'

'No... no... no...' Pulled forward by an invisible yet haunting fear, Heera ran up to the very edge - to get a better look 'n... no' she vehemently shook her head, as though it'd make the truth go away 'n... no... no... it can't be... it can't be...'

'W... wait...' Gauri tried holding her back from getting dangerously close to the brink 'wait...'

But Heera seized her hand instead 'Tell me it is not him... tell me... please tell me it is not him...' she arched over the banks again, shouting out his name a few times, to see if she would get any form of response 'Khan Sahib...'

'It... it...' Gauri peered at the canal, at her mistress' terrified eyes, and back at the canal - awfully disturbed by the situation and by Heera's reaction 'it resembles the Sahib... but, I think it must be someone else...'

'No... no... it IS him... I know it is him...' she sloppily dropped down on her knees, the numbing sense of grief and helplessness she'd felt after jiji's death, returning with a dark vengeance 'B... but... wh... why is he lying in the water like that... he is a good swimmer... has he been attacked... no no... can't be... he's too strong for that... but... but he needs help...' Turning to the woman kneeling near her, she blurted out her phrases in fragments 'he needs help... you must go get help...'

'GAURI! DON'T say that! Don't ever say that, alright? This is no trap... he is in real danger... I can sense it... so go...'

'Oh my God...' The older woman stared on, stupefied - unable to believe the extent of anguish on Heera's ashen face, or the kind of words that'd escaped her trembling lips.

'Go... get help...'

'Heera...' Gauri somehow put aside the million other upsetting thoughts swirling in her mind just then 'you... you must... come along... I wouldn't leave you alone here...'

'I'd run, if I could... but, I can't... I can't run fast... I'll only slow you down...'

When the maid didn't respond after what felt like the longest most-harrowing moment, Heera grabbed her shoulder with force 'GO GAURI...' her voice suddenly assumed an assertiveness that she knew would compel the woman to snap out of this stupor 'What are you waiting for? Go! It's an ORDER!'

'Yes... yes...' Gauri heaved, scampering up on unsteady legs 'Y... you wait here... assure me you wouldn't move from your spot... I'll return shortly...'

'Alright... go...'

So, the maid did as told - darting along the canal banks and onto the footbridge, running like she'd never run before. She had to return as soon as she could - more for the sake of her own baisa, than for Khan Sahib.

Heera's glances pursued the woman's profile till it disappeared behind the hilltops.

'Ma Bhavani...' she'd repeated a thousand times by then, but what was she supposed to do apart from that? The uncertainty was killing her, bit by bit. And a few blinks later, it felt like her head would implode if she didn't do something.

Crawling forward on her knees and fingers thereafter, Heera cautiously clung on to the end of the bank and peeked down, to see if she could observe any better.

Oh my God... no... no... no...'

A series of sudden low shrieks had ruffled the nothingness around. Not only had she recognised his slumped profile clearly, it was now obvious that his face was sinking underwater 'No... no... no... no... he cannot breathe!' she screamed - which seemed like a futile thing to scream about since he didn't even look alive. But her instincts wouldn't give up - they wouldn't let go 'He's alive... I know it... he needs help... but...'

Having made a frantic study of the calm waters below, her tear-filled eyes then searched the horizons above, for any signs of assistance.

But none came. The employees had left, and help was probably far off, beyond the meadows.

An instant passed...

Then two...

Three...

And by the fourth instant, Heera could take it no more.

Every passing moment, was a moment lost, a part of the battle lost.

Without further delay, she flung aside a couple of heavy pieces of jewellery, deciding to leave her fate in the hands of the Lord 'Please help me... Ma... please help us...'

She filled her lungs with as much air as she could fill.

And then, she jumped.

Heera was numb to all of it - be it the shock of the fall, or the bruises it'd caused. Picking herself up immediately, she waddled through the waters towards him as fast as her legs allowed, nearly tripping once or twice along the way.

'Khan Sahib...' her tremoring voice didn't carry well, but she called out. And called again 'Khan Sahib...' Soon as she reached his body, her fingers were about to lift his head from the water, but they briefly froze - almost too scared to find him at a point of no return, to find him gone.

'Oh come on...' giving herself a hard push the next instant, Heera wrapped her palms under his hair and lifted his head 'Oh Lord no...' The sight she saw left her traumatised - the hands that were cradling his head, trembling like a leaf.

His tough features did not look so tough now. They were listless. Blanched. Defenceless. 'He doesn't seem to be breathing...' A gush of tears left a hot trail along her frosted cheeks, as her palms dipped underwater in a backbreaking struggle to lift his shoulders up a little.

Once she managed to support his shoulders above-water, her hands stretched towards his chest, checking for the vital cues of life. 'Please be there... please be there... please be there...'

She detected nothing.

Hurriedly balancing the weight of his limp shoulders upon one hand so she wouldn't lose grip, the young lady palpated the side of his neck with the other 'Please be there... please be there...'

...

'Yes... yes...' Heera cried in the greatest sense of relief when she eventually felt it. There it was - a pulse - the telltale sign of life that breathed some spirit into her too. 'I knew it... you're alive... you are here!' Slipping her palm just under the neckline of his tunic, she re-examined his chest, his core, for temperature - a part of him was still warm. Actually, not merely warm, but 'burning' warm - despite the water having turned the rest of him frigid.

The man had a very high fever. He was extremely unwell!

'The bite...' it struck her instantly thereafter. A glimpse at his hand, and it was worryingly swollen - the injury hadn't been treated properly. It was obvious from the evidence around that he'd stayed to finish work at the canal, and succumbed to sickness thereupon. Everything that must have followed had to be sheer luck in his favour - he might have slumped against the wall unconscious but slipped down gradually, his height keeping his face above the water level - for a while, at least - thus preserving his life for so long.If he wasn't breathing now, he didn't have much time left.

Using all the energy that her petite form could muster, Heera grabbed his arms from behind, and with a loud heave, began pulling him back towards the bank wall. But lugging his sunken body, even by an inch, with his feet dragging across the canal floor, was a far greater challenge than she hoped it'd be 'Khan Sahib...' she whispered near his ears, patting his cheeks in desperation 'listen to me... I have to prop you up... before I can get you to breathe... I cannot do this alone... you must help me save you...'

However, he remained unresponsive - his head peacefully resting upon her, unaware of the turmoil he was causing her by doing so 'no... we've got to do this...' she soldiered on, yanking him bit by bit, washing down a tear whenever it rose 'come on... help me... we'll get through... it's not far... barely few feet away'

She persevered with the encouragements - more for her sake, than his. Because, the strain on her back and her arms were immense - their wet clothes only adding to the weight. In fact, she had no strength or breath to spare by that point.

However, the young lady kept going.

Till she finally managed to prop him beside the canal walls.

'Thank you...' she panted, her aching limbs collapsing on his shoulders in exhaustion. But with not a moment to spare, even to recoup, Heera immediately criss-crossed her fingers and pressed against his chest to prompt his lungs into action.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

'Come on... please try... you can do this...' her salt-stung eyes implored him 'you're young and strong... you can fight this...'

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

'Khan Sahib... I've lost too many dear ones already... I don't want to lose one more...' she snivelled in exasperation 'Maybe the force isn't enough!'

She pressed harder. And harder.

ONCE.

TWICE.

THRICE...

*Cough*

Splutter...

The sudden convulsive wheezing pushed his body down again. But the moment the first drifts of oxygen flushed through his lungs, his self-preservation instincts kicked in. His nails clawed into the wall behind, thus stopping his body from going under.

*Cough* *Cough* *Cough* *Cough* *Cough* *Cough*

'Oh my God... oh my God...' she rubbed his back to help him through the distress, simultaneously catching up on her own breath 'finally...'

* * *

His eyes slowly opened, his head still spinning from his brush with death.

He recognised the water 'Canal...'

Then, he recognised her 'Sahiba...'

But, she? Here? In the canal? Alone? Wasn't possible. She didn't know how to swim. Certain he was hallucinating, he closed his eyes.

And opened them only after a while. But she was there. Standing in waist-deep tide like a celestial nymph of the waters.

The torrid fever raging through his flesh felt real. The caustic sting in his throat caused by the drowning felt real. The dizziness felt real. But SHE felt surreal 'S... Sahiba?'

'Yes it's me...'

'Ya Allah...' Using the wall as crutch, Akbar slowly staggered up on his feet. He didn't hear what she said. Or maybe he did, but he didn't process all of it, for his dazed mind hadn't even come to terms with her presence there. 'Am I seeing things?'

'Khan Sahib...' she tried helping him up 'what happened?'

'Is she really here?' Leaning against the bank wall, the jaded young man faced her in disbelief 'Are you real...' he wiped his watery eyes '...really here?'

'Am I real? What do you mean?' Heera asked with a confused frown, but got no answer. Concerned by his silence, she observed him, and his eyes. This wasn't good - the young man was far from fully-conscious 'Khan Sahib... the water wasn't deep... there were no currents... so, I jumped in... and thank the Lord I did... or...' quickly shaking off the frightening images still fresh in her mind, she attempted to move on 'anyway, can you try and climb the rope ladder... as soon as we get back, I'll have a set of strong medications sent out for you...'

'But how... why?' he incoherently spoke over the lady who seemed to be standing here, in person, attending to him. 'Jumped in?' She jumped in to save him? To save HIM? Why would a young lady, an heiress, whose life was precious to many, risk her life for him? For a stranger? He must be imagining it all. He must be imagining HER, his mind playing tricks galore.

As a gentle test, he took his palm up to her face, letting his thumb lightly graze her cheek to catch the last tear before it fell.

'Yes, it's real' So, she HAD taken this selfless step for his sake. 'But then...' he looked up. How had he chanced upon someone so caring, so selfless in his life? Then maybe this was the 'other' life he'd never ventured into!

'Khan Sahib...' Heera gasped, staring at the man who'd just touched her face. Not that she had done anything to stop him. 'What are...'

'But, how can...' the disoriented young man asked again, throwing her further off-guard by leaving the query hanging 'how can you be here? You are surreal... you do not belong here, Sahiba... you are from someplace else... out of this world... God's own creation... unparalleled... by nature, form and beauty... unparalleled...' he reflected, with a tired smile 'like the 'hazel' of your eyes'

In a haze, Akbar gently lifted her chin so he could glimpse into those hazel eyes - beholding them openly, to his heart's content - no veil, no barriers, nothing else between them.

A shudder racked her being, as his intense gazes bore directly through to her soul 'You... are...' realising how parched her throat had become, she had to swallow hard before the words would come out clearly 'you are exhausted, Khan Sahib... I suspect you're suffering from hallucinations... you need rest...'

'Harka Sahiba...' his husky murmur effectively stifled her words, his thumb drifting over from her chin, to discover her soft flushed cheeks. They were flaunting a colour glossier than the reddest rose, a colour similar to the one he'd seen on her, during the first instance that she'd blushed. And he had longed to caress them since - a longing that had finally found its haven today, when his fingers ran over the velvet of her virginal skin, before nestling her cheeks within his palms.

'Oh my Lord... what... what's...'

With her heart pounding faster than it ever had, it took longer for Heera to read his frame of mind. Was he delirious? Or was this deliberate? Either way, she must stop this unwarranted intimacy now. 'Go on... move his hand...' her mind ordered, for the tenth time, before her nervous fingers went up to do so. But instead of removing his hand, they froze around his knuckles, if anything, making his grip around her more ironclad. After all, the rest of her might have stiffened in response to his first touch - but, there was an errant corner of her heart that'd begun softening. In fact, secretly wishing for more of this form of affection.

She closed shut her eyelids for a moment, so she could try to grasp the shocking turn of events, without the influence of his fervent glances rendering her numb. Instead, with closed eyelids, she found herself under the spell of unfamiliar sensations flowing through every vein in her body. Sensations more profound than mere tingles. Sensations nearly as warm as his feverish breath brushing past her lips.

'No... we mustn't do this...' she reminded herself and braced her spirit afresh, to resist his advances 'Khan Sahib... you are... you are burning with fever... and...'

But her attempt was interrupted midway, when his jawline unintentionally nudged the Borla, the traditional ornament hanging from her forehead parting, its symbolism shaking her resolute once again - not letting her escape from this subconscious web-of-emotions that he was already trapped in.

'Unparalleled...' His foggy senses weaved another layer of illusion 'because it would be impossible even for HIM to recreate this miracle... then, why did God send his precious creation down here... to these ugly lands... and to me...'

'Oh my Lord...' A faint voice-of-reason cried from within when she watched herself dangerously crossing boundary-after-boundary with him.

...

'Khan Sahib... I leave tomorrow...' her low confession arrived, out of the blue - making the young lady increasingly emotional. I'm leaving tomorrow...'

'Leave? Don't say that...' he shushed the lips that'd uttered those words by trailing his finger along them - lips that quivered at his touch. The very lips, whose intoxicating smiles had drawn him like a moth to a flame 'you can't leave...'

'Why wouldn't he say anything...' she teared up on hearing no response. His actions spoke plenty, but she wished to hear words - of which she got none. Dazed or not - he could ask her to stay, couldn't he? To NOT go? She might leave tomorrow, never to see him again, and he had nothing to say about it 'Why?'

'Khan Sahib... what are you doing? And why wouldn't you say something?'

In the next breath she knew she'd committed a mistake. The question must have been what-are-we-doing, because she was as much to blame for allowing this to happen. Nevertheless, her worried query had jolted his illusion, just like his silence had dissolved her dream.

Akbar let go.

She took two steps back in that waist-deep water, replacing the veil on her head.

He fell back, on the bank wall behind him.

The scenery was a blur to his fever-reddened eyes, and the reality murky to his mind even now. In fact, his condition was still far-from normal and several layers of fog were yet to unravel. But, at present, the young man could already perceive that he might have done something unacceptable. Unacceptable enough that it generated an unpleasant feeling in his soul.

And when the extent of his actions, or its implications would hit him later - its aftermath would wreak nothing less than havoc in his life, and thus in hers!...

Later that night...

'What?' he woke up with a start, from a very very strange dream 'Can't be true...'

He looked around. He'd been resting in his bedchamber.

A glance outside the window and it was obvious the skies were at their densest black - the hour was midnight or beyond. 'When did I get here?'

Strange! And he had little recollection of all that happened in between, or of how it had got to this.

Repairwork at the canal...'

'Harka Sahiba!'

He stood still, as vague scraps of memories came together to form a more visible picture. The scene, the happenings, the expressions, the chilling words - they all became fairly clearer - leading to the shattering realisation that NONE of it was a dream.

'Ya Allah...' he plonked down on the bed 'what... what have I done?'

Harka Sahiba, the enemy. Durga Sahiba's death. The assignment. The Farmaan. Parnagarh. Huzoor. Khalil. Where did attraction or passion feature amidst all of this mess? Where did tenderness or affection fit? 'Arrrgh what am I doing? What am I to do?'

Having lived the complicated life of a dangerous assassin for years, Akbar Mahmoud Khan had never faced a juncture in his life when he hadn't had answers. Or when he didn't know what to do. He'd never had regrets, or looked back.

But now...

'Darn...' he curled his fists in overwhelming frustration, leaving indents on his palms.

If only he'd left for Parnagarh, like planned - she would have left for Bansi, and everything would have progressed smoothly. But his health had taken a turn for the worse that morning, forcing him to postpone the trip by a day. And where that had landed him 'Arrrgh!'

'CLICK CLICK' He had to nudge the horse once more, firmly, before it would obey its master's orders by taking off into deeper wilderness.

Once a distant target was chosen, the rider began bolting forth at breakneck speed, simultaneously slipping an arrow out of his quiver. Maintaining his balance with both knees, he drew the bow - his shoulders steady despite the gallop of the horse, his eyes focussed in spite of the fact that he was being followed.

He waited for the right moment...and then...

'I'm leaving tomorrow... Khan Sahib... what are you doing? And why wouldn't you say something?'

TWANG!

He closed his eyes, tilting his forehead against the bow in frustration, aware that the arrow would've missed its target.

'One hour... one whole hour...'

That's how long he'd spent mulling on the issue. Debating to and fro. Going forwards and backwards. Weighing pros and cons.

'She has to go... as far away from here, and from me as possible!'

He had taken her in his arms. He had touched her. And he knew that for a chaste woman like the Sahiba, it meant far more than any promise would mean - she would not let herself be touched by another man hereafter.

Which is why, despite his unwillingness to lead the life of a family-man all these years, he had done something seemingly unbelievable - he had given marriage a thought. For her sake.

But the young man soon recognised that even that was no solution. Because, if he got married to her now, he would lose the Shehzaade's trust. Then, there would be nothing to stop all his enemies from collectively setting upon him. And if he was to die, there would be no one to protect HER from his rivals. Especially from the likes of Khalil - who would derive unimaginable sadistic pleasure in capturing, enslaving and tormenting her, purely because she was the wife of Ustaad!

For that horrifying reason alone, he had dismissed the entire notion.

Besides, once his ugly reality was disclosed, not only would she despise him, she would despise her own fate too...He had neither the heart to devastate her life with another massive betrayal, nor the spirit to withstand hatred from a pair of hazel eyes that'd always admired him so far.

Yes, he had committed a sin by taking her in his arms, and for that, Allah was already making sure he suffered.He would have to learn to let go. And if the Sahiba approached him for answers today, which he was almost certain she would, he would have to make her believe that there was nothing between them...

Guest Quarters..

As the maids and attendants hastened to wrap up their chores, their footfall and anklets steadily growing into a frenzy, Heera stood by, in one corner of the main reception, watching over them. The heiress was present in form, as a leader would be, to supervise the final arrangements - but her mind was elsewhere.

Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, a firm hand grabbed her wrist, taking her by surprise.

'Gauri?' she turned to the woman

'Come with me...' the chief-maid whispered into her ears and before anything else could be said, Gauri went ahead to address the rest of the ladies around them 'I need Heera's advice in reorganising a few important trunks in the corridors... we'll be back in a short while... till then, please handle the matters here... will you?'

'Yes Gauri...'

'Come Heera...' the woman hustled her baisa from the crowded reception chamber towards the corridors outside.

Then, when no one was watching, she guided Heera onwards, into an adjacent hallway that led to a narrow passageway on its right. Eventually, they reached a set of large doors - on the other side of which, lay the corridors to the main haveli.

Once they were in, Gauri quietly closed the doors behind her. She looked up at her Lady 'He's in there...' she nodded 'Quarter hour... that's all I could manage... we must leave after that...' Her voice was stern, her attitude very matter-of-fact. But all that sternness was only to compensate for the growing fears within.

Neither had Heera gone into detail about what'd happened at the canal. Nor had she explained why a heavy cloak of despair had dulled her radiant features ever since.
'But you've already shown your gratitude by saving his life... isn't that enough? Why meet him again?' She'd tried explaining. However, the only answer Heera had given was 'All the more reason I have to meet him, Gauri... once...'

Here she was, 15 hours later, following her mistress' wishes..

'Take this...' The chief maid handed over the large pouch of laddus 'and be careful...'

* * *

Spare Room in the Main Haveli.

Crossing the line of threshold, she stepped into the unfamiliar chamber - a spare room, perhaps.

Glancing ahead, at a far end of the room, Heera observed his shadow that loomed over the lattice screen he stood facing.

'Salaam Khan Sahib...'

'Salaam Sahiba...'

An awkward lull followed - he waiting for her to continue, while she waited for him to.

But just as she was about to speak up, he beat her to it - by coming straight to the point.

'I heard you wanted to meet me... personally...' Akbar turned around, to face her 'something important to discuss, Sahiba?'

A faint frown creased her brows as she took note of his business-like tone. Odd.

There was very little time left - and plenty of questions to ask - questions that'd been whelming her peace right up to that point.

Therefore, moving on, Heera revived her spirits and collected her thoughts, 'I... I... wanted to thank you... in person... for everything you've done for us...'

'That's alright...' he shrugged lightly.

She continued, her glimpses falling upon the pouch that her fingers had been fidgeting with 'By the way... I... I wanted to give you this...'

'What's that?'

'Maharaj kakasa's laddus... the maids had mentioned that you'd enjoyed them during the feast... so...'

'Oh...' he frowned 'Thank you...'

The young lady took a few hesitant steps forward, with the pouch. However, when he made no responsive move thereon, she was left with little choice but to indicate towards a small side table beside her 'Shall I?'

'Yes please...'

'There...' Heera placed her parting token upon the table.

'But this message could've been sent this through your guards, Sahiba...' he suggested, tying his hand behind his back 'why the need to arrange a private meeting for this... the inconvenience could have been avoided, could it not?'

'Inconvenience?' Well, SHE didn't consider this an inconvenience. Was he implying that it was an inconvenience for him?

Heera chose a bold step. Walking right up to him, she dispelled this unnerving air of formality by removing the veil from her head.She wanted to be able to look at his expressions and him at hers as they talked, thus bringing the meeting to a more personal level.

As she glanced up at his face to do just that, she abruptly realised one thing. The towering profile that'd lulled her into another world, that'd given her a sense of security and comfort yesterday - was somehow making her feel intimidated.

Her stomach was tightening into the tightest knots, her cold hands turning almost numb. After all, this was the man who'd held her cheeks and made her blush. The man who'd touched her lips and taken her in his arms - giving Heera, her first experience with the most delicate, most intimate feelings that a lady could experience.

His stares were emotionless. Impersonal. This was not the Khan Sahib who'd thanked her with a mere gaze, or shown concern with his silent gestures.

This was someone else.

'I apologise if this might have been an inconvenience to you... but I had to do this... there were somethings that had to be discussed in private... things I didn't want my maids knowing about... things that I could not discuss with your men and my guards hovering outside the door...'

'What about?'

'What about?' Heera swallowed a painful lump in her throat 'About what happened yesterday, Khan Sahib...'

'Oh yes...' he replied with a pensive nod 'I remember very vaguely... the drowning... your efforts to save my life... besides, I heard it was your medicines that've cured me so effectively... extremely noble of you, Sahiba...' Stepping away from her presence, he began taking casual strides along the length of the room 'so, it is 'I' who should be thanking you for all this... which I was planning to do when I met your party at the gates...'

'That is alright, Khan Sahib...' she interrupted - increasingly disheartened as he brought up everything, except the one thing she hoped he would bring up 'but I'm referring to... all that... happened between us...'

He paused.

'Us? I'm sorry but I can't recall anything else, Sahiba... all of it is still a blur to me...'

'Can't recall anything else?' Clutching together a few pieces of her heart that'd just been sliced apart, Heera asked again 'You can't recall anything else? Anything you spoke... or...'

'No... I was not in my senses...'

'Khan Sahib...' She wanted him to see her reactions, as she spoke - even those tears clinging to the edges of her eyes that she was not ashamed of.

'Fine... you don't remember what happened between us, after I rescued you. But you would...'

'Sahiba...' he cut her off, as though he'd run out of patience by then 'I have no idea what happened... I was not fully conscious... you were there... you must have recognised my state... anyway...' his eyes narrowed 'if I have said or done something last evening that I mustn't, I apologise for it'

'Said or done something that I mustn't?'

The final shreds of faith that'd been keeping her afloat, snapped - bringing her spirits crashing down into a deep dark abyss. 'Have no idea?' How could he have no idea? How would he not recall ANYTHING of what had prompted him to take her in his arms? She hadn't come here with grand expectations of being enveloped in his arms again, or to hear promises about building a safe future together - young and inexperienced she might be, but Heera was a realist.

However, what she HAD expected, was a simple acknowledgement of what'd happened yesterday and the days before. She'd hoped for some form of reciprocation.

It was getting quite obvious from his attitude that he wasn't going to acknowledge any of those unspoken developments.

If that was the case, she wasn't going to beg him to recognise these unsaid emotions either. She wouldn't plead - not even when her heart was screaming for it not to end this way.

She replaced the veil on her face 'Alright... Khan Sahib...'

'Sahiba...' he cast a fleeting glimpse at the window to his left 'I have other pressing issues that I must attend to... so, I would like to take your leave' With a courteous nod, he showed her the way towards the doorway 'If there is anything I can do to help you with your journey onwards, please feel free to ask...'

'Very kind of you to offer...' she let out a tired smirk, her voice drowned by grief 'but, no thank you... and I was leaving myself'

Without further delay, she turned around to make a retreat towards the entranceway.

Her tear-filled eyes yearned to cast a glimpse over her shoulders, to steal one last blurry glimpse of a silhouette that she'd never forget.

But she didn't...

It took him a while, but Akbar eventually caved in, running a gentle finger over its rare designs 'I'm sorry Sahiba... for what I've done...'

He paused thereon, retracting his palm. The mellow haze upon his expressions dissolved. His brows stiffened 'and sorry for what I'm about to do...'

'You're here? I've been looking everywhere for you...'

The rushed interruption had cut short his spell of contemplation. 'Come in chacha jaan...' he wished the man, his grim eyes still fixed on the object of attention 'so, have you brought what I'd asked for?'

'Yes... we've managed to make a copy of the seal they use... here... the Parnagarh seal...' Chacha jaan kept the signet on the table 'it wasn't easy though'.

On having noticed the pouch that Akbar was staring at 'Ya Allah... what is that?' he rolled his tongue, almost able to taste the delicacy in his mouth 'A pouch of sweets?'

'Actually...' Akbar corrected the man, before he got too carried away 'these sweets are going to be my gate-pass into the Parnagarh haveli...'

'Actually...' Akbar corrected the man, before he got too carried away 'these sweets are going to be my gate-pass into the Parnagarh haveli...'

Sahiba brought it here? For YOU?As a GIFT?'

The young man still didn't answer.

'They're leaving...'

'I know... I can hear the commotion outside...'

'She's leaving...'

'I said I know...' Akbar picked up the pouch, the seal and a few other articles, unresponsive to the man's questioning stares 'I have work to do now...My work with them is finished... it makes sense for the Sahiba to leave... anyway' he nodded 'Sayyid and his men are trailing them... they'll reach Bansi safely. And then they're Maharaj Chitranjan's responsibility, of course!'

'The Maharaj is old. For how long would he be able to keep her safe?'

'So you think her life is safe here? With us? With ME? Just because I haven't been defeated till today, doesn't make me invincible. If someday, somewhere, my life was taken... who's going to protect her from the likes of Khalil? At least now... I have our Shehzaade's trust... I have his word that this assignment is mine and mine alone... it'll keep those brutes away from Parnagarh for a while...' the authority in his voice escalated - an obvious attempt to end this line of questioning 'Besides... I cannot... should not... and WILL NOT be unfaithful towards our Huzoor beyond this!'

'But after a while... when you're done with this assignment... who's going to keep those brutes away?'

'I am no fortune teller...' came Akbar's retort, as he glared at the stubborn man, who was refusing to give up this futile discussion 'I guess... by then... Maharaj Chitranjan would've found a good match for the Sahiba... a powerful Rajput aristocrat, maybe... who could protect her and her people...'

'Neither had you brought me the Farmaan, Khalil!' an arrogant scowl marked his princely features 'And, you've been going behind my back too... I heard your men assassinated one of his... so... dare NOT question my decisions!' Subsequently, his voice fell back to its normal pitch 'Give him a few days and he'll have news to bring... besides, he is your mentor... show him respect...'

'I do respect him... but I respect YOU far more...' Khalil nodded 'you wanted this assignment wrapped up as quickly as possible... which is why the task was handed over to your chief Intelligence Officer... of course...' he began gradually rubbing his jaw 'Ustaad is generally never late... but, in this case...'

The sentence was deliberately left hanging mid-air, when he noticed his Huzoor drifting into deep thought.

'Ustaad... you seem quite distracted this evening... possibly because of this new assignment... the Parnagarh assignment must be quite an inconvenience... especially when you already have so many other matters to attend to...'

'This delay could cost us a lot...' the general continued, with calculated poise 'if someone produces the Farmaan in court... in front of the Shehenshah... all our plans will be ruined...'

'That's enough...' Shehzaade slowly raised a palm.

There was nothing new about such provocative remarks being made against the Ustaad. There was nothing veiled about what the general was trying to get at. However, in this instance, his own thoughts could not help but briefly revisit his last meeting with the Ustaad - parts of the meeting that for some reason, stood out even further now. 'As I'd said... give him a couple of days...'

'A couple of days...' Khalil observed his master closely, the anger in his veins slowly melting away 'and if Ustaad doesn't return even then?'

'Then...' The prince raised his brows in disdain 'then, we'll see...'

'It's beautiful, isn't it?' came his friend's remark, mirroring his own thoughts

'Yes'...

'Samarth Singh...' came a voice from inside a modest dwelling pulling them out of the peaceful reverie 'Charanjith'

It was obvious that he hoped to spend the noon chatting with the new visitors in town 'I am exhausted, beta... please get me some water...'

'Yes kakasa...'

'Here kakasa...'

The two Rajputs took their place on the floor beside him, cross-legged.

Having hobbled into the only room of that modest dwelling, the old man had made himself comfortable by taking a seat on a worn-out mat. It was obvious that he hoped to spend the noon chatting with the new visitors in town 'I am exhausted, beta... please get me some water...'

'Yes kakasa...'

'Tiring work... rearranging the sick house' Vaid kaka puffed, having gulped down the drink in one go 'but it had to be done... to accommodate the growing numbers, who visit Parnagarh for medical treatment... however, I must admit... it's tough when we are short of helping hands' He replaced the goblet on the floor 'We used to be a self-sufficient community... till we lost a few good men during the tragic attack on the Haveli... and then, a few men had to leave with bitiya, for Bansi!' an agonised grimace gradually emerged on his face 'Ma Bhavani will punish those horrible men responsible for this state of ours today... Khalil... Shehzaade... and everyone else who's helping them...'

Charanjith spontaneously cleared his throat, about to interrupt the hateful remarks.

But the more composed Samarth Singh immediately took over 'If you were short of helping hands, you must have let us know, kakasa...' he offered, in all seriousness 'we would have helped...'

'No no...' Vaid kaka looked up with respect 'you both are our special guests... bearers of good news... having brought us the much-anticipated message from Heera Bitiya that they've reached Bansi safely... for which, we Parnagarhis are already indebted to you... in fact...' his grey eyestwinkled with pride 'we consider it an honour to spoil our guests with food and hospitality... but you prefer cooking your own meals...' he scratched his forehead sheepishly 'besides...you were meant to stop by for some rest, before making your way to the next town... we've already troubled you enough yesterday... we can't inconvenience you any further...'

'It wasn't an inconvenience...' the young man shrugged, his tone dry and reserved 'we haven't done much...'

'You're being modest Samarth Singh...' Vaid kaka flashed them an appreciative smile 'moving cupboards... heaving trunks... rearranging chests... you both accomplished more than what 10 other men could've done!' he reiterated, with a firm nod of his head.

'Good... good... my dear boy...' kaka nodded, quite pleased with himself. Then, he tardily rose to his feet, lingering in his spot 'I think I must leave...'

'Alright kakasa... thank you for dropping by.' The two men stood up to accompany their guest to the door. However, a short while thereon and it was apparent that the old healer was in no hurry to make his way out 'Is there something else I could help you with?' Samarth asked, almost certain of what the hesitation was about.

'I... I... am sorry for troubling you again...' an abashed kaka flashed half his teeth 'but may I have another one of our Maharaj's laddus? You see... I... I don't know when I'd get to taste them again... and...'

'Sure...' Samarth nodded, finding it easier than Charanjit was, to tame his amusement at kaka's funny antics.

Proceeding towards a secluded corner of that room, he approached his belongings and knelt beside them. He dipped his hand inside a large cloth bag and gently fished out the embroidered drawstring pouch from a concealed pocket within.

The grimness in his frowns eased off, the gravity in his expressions slowly dissolving as he sat there for a moment, away from prying eyes

'By the way... I... I wanted to give you this... Maharaj kakasa's laddus... the maids had mentioned that you'd enjoyed them during the feast...'

Azeez scoured around the busy hall. 'There' he located the man, camouflaged amongst the village crowds with the oversized turban on his head and a drink in his hand.

Akbar had located Azeez too.

Then Azeez blinked once. Firmly. 'I've found it...'

Pleased, Akbar drew in a deep breath. 'Alright' he nodded.

'It's in there...' His eyes stealthily signalled at the adjoining inner room 'in Vaid kaka's personal chamber'

'Good' acknowledged Akbar.

Azeez raised his eyebrows questioningly 'Shall I go get it now?'

The young man analysed his crammed surroundings, and then shook his head once 'No... wait...'

'Alright' Azeez waited.

Crowds were generally a good distraction, a good cover, when carrying out such covert tasks. However, their current circumstances were tricky. It was nearing sunset, and the sick house was teeming with people - both, in the long dormitory hall where the patients lay, and in the adjoining rooms. Dust was being swept off the floors by the maids. Ladies were preparing to light the evening lamps. Attendants were fumigating the air with insect-repelling herbal smoke. And families were busy changing their relatives' bedding for the night. Most areas seemed to be a hive of activity.

Akbar knew that it would be difficult for them to access Vaid kaka's room, and then the cupboard that held the keys to the inner rooms of the haveli, without being noticed. He had to come up with something!

It was thence that that he spotted, through the colourful flurry of ghagras and dhotis, a drab forgotten trunk, a short distance away. Oddly angled against a wall, the trunk was obstructing a few people's way. But it appeared to belong to none, and no one seemed to care to find a better place for it.

Having found the perfect excuse to enter Vaid kaka's room, Akbar gulped the drink and set his goblet down. Pretending to make himself useful, he walked up to the trunk.

'Shall I have this moved... to the other room?'

The question barely received a response.

Perfect, he thought.

Bansi.

'Home' her heart seemed to utter a soft sigh of relief - just like it had, when she'd finally met kakasa's retinue in the forests after having left Aidabad, a few days ago.

Like a child who'd got lost in a strange deserted place, being reunited with family was the oasis that had breathed a little life into her listless body. 'Kakasa...' she'd yelled as soon as she had spotted their retinue from her palanquin - the warm tears that spontaneously fell, washing some of her sorrows away. The call of 'home' comforting her downtrodden spirits.

And not only for her, but the reunion had been an emotional moment for the others too - the Parnagahis relieved to be found, the people of Bansi relieved to have finally found them. After all, the troops of Bansi had been suffering no less either - combing through the forests for weeks along with their worried ruler, in search of the exiled party.

Their misery would have continued, had it not been for Heera's clever plan that ensured her last scroll reached Bansi. The arrival of the most-awaited message had brought a ray of sunshine into their lives - finally letting the distraught Godparents know how to reach their missing daughter.

* * *

'Come here, my dear...' kaki pointed to a plush couch, asking Heera to repose upon it, while she took her own seat on a cushioned armchair nearby.

'But kakisa...'

'Lie down quietly...' the queen shushed her, waves of affection rife in her voice and manner 'you know how much I enjoy doing this, don't you?'

'Alright...' Needing no further persuasion than that, Heera yielded by laying back against the bolster pillow 'And I enjoy it being done to me too...' she closed her eyes 'which daughter wouldn't?'

Thereafter, the clinking of bangle-against-metal followed, as the queen dipped her fingers into a brass bowl of warm oil that her maids were holding. What transpired consequently was pure magic, as kakisa's deft fingers worked their way through every square inch of her scalp - a 'hair' treatment that the Maharani reserved for the Parnagarh girls alone. A 'preferential' treatment for which, she and jiji would often compete.

Blinking back the tears, Heera let herself be lured into a state of semi-slumber, reliving the love of a mother. Reliving the bliss of 'home' again.

'No doubt you are very intelligent, Heera...'

Nudged out of her trance, the young lady opened her eyes, aware that Kakisa's words sounded more like concern than they sounded like a compliment.

'Intelligent enough to reach out to us, even though you were alone... intelligent enough to outwit those spies outside your town that were intercepting your scrolls...'

Heera glanced up to study the features of the kind face that was hovering over her, trying to predict where this conversation was heading.

'What I don't understand is... why someone so intelligent cannot see how dangerous this venture is...' her fingers stopped moving 'I don't want you writing to other kingdoms...'

'Kakisa... I am doing it for my people...'

'You have done a lot for your people... and you will be able to do a lot more for them, if you DON'T challenge the Shehzaade...'

'You want me to give up my lands? My people to give up their livelihoods?'

Kaki returned her captivating gazes with a firm stare 'When so many powerful Hindu kings have bowed down to the Mughals, why are you so adamant about opposing them?'

'Opposing the Mughals?' Gently removing the palms from her head, Heera sat up - so she could face the anxious woman as she tried explaining herself 'I have no issues accepting Mughal supremacy... I am not challenging the prince... all I want... is that they don't destroy our homes and fields for the sake of cheap iron ore...' she paused to add 'and of course, to bring Khalil to justice!'

'NO! Don't even take that demon's name!' kaki swiftly placed her finger on Heera's lips 'I thought Durga was stubborn... but you're just as stubborn as she is! She never listened to my advice... look what ended up happening...' A sharp gasp abruptly escaped her throat as the shocking implication of what she'd uttered struck her hard, her eyes welling up with tears 'I shouldn't have said such a thing... but I am... I am worried... I've already lost one child... I will NOT let anything happen to you...'

'Kakisa...' Heera wiped her cheeks for her 'nothing will happen to me...'

'All these years, I used to welcome both my girls with flowers... fanfare... and fine food...' droplets gushed down her cheeks, as the reminders of their misfortunes haunted her afresh 'but ever since you've arrived yesterday... I've only had tears to give... still...' Her sights fell upon a large platter beside her 'I did what I could'..

Intrigued, the young lady observed the platter that kaki was staring at. And it was then that she noticed it - two identical pieces of large diamond hair ornaments nestled within velvet holders.

'I didn't have the heart to make only one...'

Heera's throat stung from the lump of emotions pooling up. Her lips trembled, her mind fogged by despair. But she overcame the urge to drown herself in a pool of tears. Because her 'brave face' was the only incentive kaki and kaka had, to successfully break free from the shackles of grief.

'Kakisa... I'll wear both... if that'll make you happy'

Inspired by the 16 year old who was putting on such a brave face, kaki reined in her emotions, letting the dampness on her cheeks dry out. Besides, all was not lost. They had already found a solution to some of Parnagarh's issues - which she planned to tell Heera about later on. 'Bitiya...' she cradled her Godchild's face with her palms 'I'll style your hair into the most beautiful braids... and adorn them with BOTH these diamond ornaments!'

'Of course...' Heera nodded with a calm smile - putting on a 'brave face', just as Kaki had surmised.

...

Because that was all what it was - a face, a faade. Not reality. Little did the people around her know that everything behind that mask, everything inside her was hollow. Just as hollow as it was, when her palanquin had taken off from Aidabad soil. As hollow as it was, when she'd left HIS haveli once and for all.

And when she was alone, away from prying eyes, she would remove that mask. Make up for all those hours that she'd had to act, by being herself. The brightness in her eyes would disappear, the strength in her shoulders slip off. Her spirits would sink low again, back to where they were - as she tried to search for the Heera that had been lost somewhere along the way.

And every instance she thought she saw glimpses of that lost lady, she would find HIM. She was lost because he had stolen a part of her. Probably, the best part of her.

And not only had he slyly stolen the best part of her, he'd sent a part of himself with her too. A part of himself that'd merged so intricately into her world that she couldn't detach from the effects. Be it his adab or the lone half-smile he'd hidden behind it. Be it his firm gazes, or the softness that lay tucked under it. Be it his tough personality or the inherent aura of protectiveness it exuded. She could forget none of it. The sandalwood in her herbs was a reminder of his fragrance, the sound of her own beats a reminder of the heartbeat she'd heard as she rested against his chest. She'd forgotten none of it.

He invaded her hours. Her solitude. And her peace. It made her angry. It made her sad too. Angry because the bitterness of the heartbreak hadn't been enough to forget him. Sad because she couldn't remember those memories with pure unalloyed fondness either...

Nevertheless, when in the presence of company, she managed to put the mask back on and act tough. Another change in her that she had HIM to thank for - probably another aspect of Khan Sahib that'd rubbed off on her. Actually, quite a performer she had turned into - with everyone, even Gauri, forced to assume that the baisa was 'almost fine'.

Not long after the bristles of that ivory comb began smoothing and styling her hair, the mood of the gathering began taking a positive shift. So much so that Heera could subsequently hear echoes of giggles and hush chatter behind her - as though the ladies were jesting about a secret.

'By the way...' kakisa hummed, a short while later 'I have been meaning to tell you something... but I wanted the time to be right...'

'Go on Kakisa...'

'Your kakasa has found a solution for a lot of our issues... an excellent solution...'

'Yes?'

'Take a guess...'

Heera's brows knit into a sceptical frown 'A powerful Rajput kingdom has agreed to help us?'

'Hmmm...' the queen giggled 'maybe even better...'

'Better? Oh please... tell me kakisa!'

'A groom for you...'

'A groom?' the young lady swallowed softly. And she swallowed again, but that didn't seem to stop her throat from becoming dry 'Marriage?'

'Yes... he's found a groom for you, bitiya...' kaki whispered near her ears - 'a young prince... handsome... virtuous... the lone heir of a powerful kingdom... and what's more... this Kunwar is aware of all the problems Parnagarh is facing... yet, he's willingly accepted this proposal...in fact... the groom's family should be arriving here... maybe tomorrow... or day after...'

The chorus of cheers raised by the girls around immediately reached their crescendo, with them clapping, hollering and hugging each other in relief.

'This is great news...'

'We will be saved...'

It is not that Heera had not expected such a turn in her life. She had. Only, she hadn't expected it would come so soon, hitting the unsuspecting young lady like a bolt out of the blue.

'What happened, bitiya? Why are you so quiet?'

'As a young bride... she's probably shy...'

One of the maids held her chin gently 'Baisa... blushing?'

Blushing? If anything her cheeks must have lost a few shades of colour, since she could feel a cold prickle on her face 'Kakisa... b... but tomorrow... I... I mean...' Finding herself at a loss of words, she struggled to piece together some form of response to handle the situation for the time being. But the words took long enough to come and the jubilant ladies ended up speaking over her.

'You're eager to find out who he is, aren't you baisa?'

'Please tell her Ranisa...'

Kaki beamed 'You've already met him, bitiya...'

'What?'

'It's the illustrious Kunwarsa Mahendar... of Manswar...'

In disbelief and desperation, Heera turned around to face the queen, her hair pulling away from the queen's clasp as she did so.

'JIJASA?'

Silver-tusked elephants carrying opulent howdahs. Impressive palanquins. Velvet flags. Stately horses. Trumpets and drums. Mahouts and soldiers. Cooks and maids. Musicians and dancers. The glitter of gold was dazzling, the fanfare drowning everything else in the vicinity.

There was no doubt that the razzle-dazzle of the royal procession of Manswar had left an impact on all bystanders- all except for one.

She stood like a marble statue, adorned to perfection so that she could be presented in front of the royal women of Manswar - to be unveiled, observed and judged by their keen glances.

The finest brushstrokes of kohl outlined her doe-shaped eyes, a thin layer of tinted bees-wax glossing her lips pink. Bright red of the freshly painted alta accentuated the pearl of her skin, the ruby ornaments complementing the silks she wore.

'But I cannot do this kakasa... he was the man jiji loved... this feels wrong... it is a betrayal to jiji's memories...'

She had tried everything she could, made every point she could make. But all her requests had fallen on deaf ears, all her efforts thwarted.

The only hope she now had, was jijasa himself. Like her, he had little interest in this wedding too - after all, he had agreed to it only because kakasa had emotionally coerced him into it. If not, he had been willing to support Paranagarh even without any such arrangement, hadn't he? So he would understand her, and as a gentleman, he would respect her wishes, wouldn't he?

'Yes, jijasa would!'

A long spell of silence followed - an unnerving spell for all present - during which Heera observed the Ranisa for the first time. It was only now that she got to observe her from such close quarters. And she had to agree with all the tales she'd heard - that there could be no woman who defined the term 'authoritarian', as aptly as this Maharani did!

'The veil...' Ranisa uttered, making no attempt to ease into an informal conversation first 'surely there's no need for it, in here... I would like to see the face of my son's bride properly, please!'

The maids stepped forth at once and gently lifted up the silk by its borders, letting the cloth slide behind her hair.

'My my...' Various sounds of approval erupted amongst different sections of the crowd.

The queen, however, exhibited nothing more than a mild frown 'Not bad...'

Not bad? Heera wasn't naive, and despite the troubled state her mind was in, she could guess that the queen was more impressed by her beauty than she was letting on. Nevertheless, nothing to celebrate about - seeing how she wasn't trying to impress the Manswaris now 'Thank you Ranisa...'

Suddenly; the Maharani snapped her fingers, taking everyone by surprise 'Please leave us alone...'

So the maids dispersed, and most of the relatives too, leaving behind only a few important people in that gathering - giving the young lady the feeling that what was to come might not be pleasant.

'Your eyes... they're pretty... but they're...' the Maharani paused, not completing the rest of the sentence for the sake of civility 'I only hope the disability would not pass on something unpleasant to my son's children... to the royal heirs of our kingdom!'

'Ranisa... with your permission let me clarify' she decided to dispel the myth since it was her honour at stake here. Besides, she'd already guessed that the superstitious questions would come - only she hadn't expected them to come so soon 'I had an accident, when riding my horse as a child... that's how I lost part of my vision... it is not a disease...'

The stiff lines on the queen's temple slowly eased out. Not only was this girl more beautiful than her sister, she seemed more docile and yet wiser too. Maybe this arrangement would not be as bad as she originally feared 'Ranisa...' she addressed the hostess 'I would like to rest now... we've had a long and tiring journey... but later on... today... maybe our royal priests could sit together... and decide upon an auspicious hour to formalise the relationship between both families!'

'That would be lovely...' kaki exclaimed - after which, a drone of murmurs rose in the backdrop - murmurs that steadily culminated into a cacophony of happy cheers.

Heera managed a formal smile too, to play her part as a member of the celebratory ambience. But her mind was racing. Racing with hundreds of thoughts, worries, and questions. This was all happening too fast. She had to meet Kunwar Mahendar as early as possible, so she could let him know her views about this 'arrangement'. And it had to be done before things went too far. After all, there was just no other foreseeably quicker way to put this wedding on hold.

Next Day in the Royal gardens..

'Ouch'

Gently dropping the plush rose into the flower basket, she inspected the tip of her throbbing finger. A moist blob of red emerged, swelling in size, till it overflowed down the sides of her finger dripping down as tiny droplets of blood.

'These wounds never truly heal, Sahiba... which is why the pain never disappears completely...'

'You must be cautious around such nasty thorns...' came a genteel voice from behind 'you've wounded yourself... here... please take this...' Mahendar held out a silk kerchief for her 'is it painful?

On finally coming face-to-face with jijasa, her emotions welled up, in remembrance of jiji. However, his gentlemanly features remained a comforting ocean of calmness. Chitranjan kakasa had mentioned that he'd seemed devastated by the tragedy when they met last. So watching his profile so composed now, was a cause for some relief 'Greetings Kunwarsa...'

Greetings...' he wished her back.'I heard you wanted to meet me here...'

A short pause later, Heera nodded 'Yes... I apologise if this caused you inconvenience... and I know this is not the norm... but I wanted to talk to you about something...'

'This was no inconvenience whatsoever... but before that...' he spoke haltingly 'how have you been? We were all immensely worried when we heard nothing from you!'

'I sent you messages... letters of condolences... information... sent one of my personal messengers as well... didn't you receive anything?'

'No...' his tone turned even more sombre 'you have suffered a lot, haven't you?'

'Oh...' she swallowed a painful lump in her throat, watching how he'd managed to compose himself with such ease. Maybe it was because he was a man that he was so much better at holding back his grief. Maybe it was easier for men to come to terms with such tragedies.

Nevertheless, her own emotions refused to be so disciplined. The droplets of water refused to stop brimming, how many ever times she wiped them dry. Eventually, they burst their banks, forming their own soft pathways down her face. So, for the sake of decency, she averted his glances till she could regroup herself. 'I haven't stopped getting nightmares...' she gazed at the rose bush in front 'especially of the horrible hour, when I'd cradled her bleeding body in my arms...'

Briefly dragged back to the appalling final moments of her sister's life, she continued sharing her anguish over the ordeal - whilst he watched on, in silence.

In a short while though, the sounds of her words began fading away into white noise.

As he tuned out, Mahendar decided to spend his time doing something else - possibly, something more interesting. So, unbeknown to her, his gazes began venturing towards those partly-hidden features concealed behind a sheer veil. Feasting his eyes upon their freshness. She was a rare kind of beauty indeed. Probably the rarest kind. Virginal. Ethereal. Unblemished. Untouched. Purer than the unborn petals of a flower bud, for no other man had even laid eyes upon them.

He had been aware that she was stunning. However, since a part of him had been besotted by the persona of the older heiress, he had never cared to observe the younger sister. But now that he was beholding her from such close quarters, he had to agree - she possessed a unique power to entrance her observers. Remarkable! Moreover, at present, there was an alluring element about her innocence and sadness too. Almost erotic. Especially the manner in which those tears touched her cheeks, and then her lips, before sliding down her neck. If only it were his fingers in place of those tears. 'Not many days to go for that though...'

'Kunwarsa?' Heera's thoughts had screeched to an abrupt halt. She couldn't see from the corner of her eye, so she would never know for sure. But if she relied on her instincts, she would have to say that the prince had been staring at her. Probably gazing at her in ways that he mustn't.

Made uneasy by the very notion, she wiped her cheeks dry and pulled the borders of her veil across the face - deciding to give the man a gentle reminder of how she viewed the kind of 'relationship' they shared, in case he was getting carried away.

'Jijasa...' Heera said, instead of addressing him by the title 'Kunwarsa' 'did you hear what I've been trying to tell you?'

Her subtle shift in attitude did not go unnoticed.

'Yes... I did...' Mahendar nodded with authority, the white noise instantly unravelling into clearer phrases again 'Go on...'

'Then... I hope you would empathise with my sentiments, jijasa...' her manner was kind, but her stance firm 'I hope you would understand that I am not prepared to go through with this arrangement... with this marriage!'

'What?' he nearly exclaimed - her startling confession like an ugly slap on his aristocratic pride. His mind replayed her words for the second time, and then the third - lest he had inferred her words wrongly. But with every instance that he recalled her rejection I am not prepared to go through with this arrangement the blow to his ego came on harder. 'I am sorry, what...' he asked again, in disbelief 'what did you just say?'

'Jijasa... I am not ready for this marriage...' she pleaded with her eyes 'these developments must have caused you a lot of trouble and I apologise for all of it... I shall apologise to your parents for the difficulties this has caused them too...' she glimpsed down at the fingers that she was toying with 'unfortunately, all these decisions were taken in my absence... had I the slightest idea that kakasa would put forth such a proposal, I would have been able to advise him against it...'

As she voiced her thoughts, Mahendar was left grinding his teeth in silence, plagued by visions of his carefully-built plans crumbling down, piece by piece, into dust. It was happening all over again, wasn't it?

'NO!' he told himself the very next instant. He would not let it end this way. He would not give up so easily - especially not after all those painstaking efforts he'd taken so far! Forcefully shutting away the frustrating visions, he came back with a calculatedly-gentle retort 'But why do you say that you are not ready for this marriage?'

Heera lifted her eyes to study him. She could sense a subtle difference in his tone. Was it disappointment? Was it confusion? She couldn't make out yet. 'Because jijasa...' she paused 'I am not in the right frame of mind for a wedding now...'

'Don't take this the wrong way...' the Kunwar explained, feeling the growing strain of keeping up this show of decency and chivalry 'I don't want this wedding either... but I am going through with it, because I'd given your sister my word... I'd promised her that I would take care of Parnagarh, and take care of you!'

Yes. Heera could make out what it was - it was frustration! His entire speech would have sounded noble - had the tinges of annoyance not slowly crept in by the end of it. 'Why the frustration though?' the mystified young lady was forced to ponder - particularly when considering the timing of it all. Was he just stressed, or could it be something else? 'So, you're doing all this for the sake of a promise you'd given jiji?'

'Of course! Why else do you think?'

'Then you must remember that you'd given her TWO promises, jijasa! And if you remember the first, you surely wouldn't haven't forgotten the second promise... would you?'

'I'm bound forever by two precious aspects of my life that a marriage cannot change...one, Parnagarh... two and more importantly, my sister...'

'I wish that my lands and my people continue to remain under our joint charge'

'And when my sister weds, it would be to a man of her choice, much like I am following my own preferences..

* * * *

The Formal Reception Chamber..

Having received an urgent message sometime back, she was on her way to meet with the Kunwar of Manswar - a meeting that she wasn't sure what to make of.

Earlier that day, she'd been quietly confident that the prince would empathise with her wishes - he'd always come across as a selfless young man, a noble well-wisher of the family. However, after having met him in the rose garden, she wasn't so sure. She'd left the place sensing strange vibes from him, and with more questions looming in her head than ever before.

In the hours since then, those questions had given rise to all sorts of unsettling doubts about the prince of Manswar - which beyond a point, seemed so far-fetched and implausible that she had begun second-guessing her own instincts. 'What am I doing?' she asked herself thereafter, wondering if the bitter events in her life lately had turned her into a cynic 'Jiji trusted him... and loved him so much... she wouldn't have misread him! No... I must have misunderstood him... '

Thus, temporarily setting aside those convoluted thoughts, she'd set off with a clearer mind, hoping to start afresh. If nothing else, she HAD to do so in the hope that they might be able to work something out. The Kunwarsa was still the only person she could turn to, if she wanted things to go a certain way. And this evening, the young lady needed his support more than ever - seeing how she'd just learnt a short while ago, that the families were about to formalise their relationship the next morning.

On arriving at the chamber, Heera was ushered in, and she soon realised the prince wasn't alone. His two companions - the Senapati and his cousin - stood beside him, engrossed in chatter of some sort.

An awkward lull followed, with everyone waiting for someone to speak up.

Till the kunwarsa took matters into his own hands

'Please wait outside...' he suddenly announced 'I mean everyone!' he added, obviously referring to the Parnagarhis.

Heera was surprised. Even if it was a formal area, it felt odd to be left alone in a room with him. That too, past sunset. But she chose to relent for now.

Heera was surprised. Even if it was a formal area, it felt odd to be left alone in a room with him. That too, past sunset. But she chose to relent for now.

'Please wait outside' she turned to her people 'All of you, please...' she had to emphasise, when Bajrang and Daya did not move from their spots.

Once the duo were alone, Kunwarsa approached the young lady, a good bit of princely conceit sharpening his attitude 'When we met at the garden, matters got slightly out-of-hand... I put it down to shock, because everything is happening so swiftly... so...' he drew in a deep breath 'before we move on to other things tomorrow, we should clear the air... I would like to give you another chance to explain yourself'

'What?' her brows knit into a frown as she heard him out. Move on to other things tomorrow? Explain herself? What did he mean? She had explained everything quite clearly earlier, and expressed her regrets very politely too. Was that explanation not kind enough? Nevertheless, she ignored the grumbles of her ego and decided to apologise for her decisions again 'Jijasa... I am sorry if I've hurt your sentiments... I am sorry for the trouble this has caused you and your family... but please understand... I do not want this wedding...'

Mahendar practically winced, as every word she uttered pricked him bitterly. He had called for this meeting, expecting she would've come to her senses and take back her words - not to hear her repeat the same speech all over again! 'I'll tell you this...' wrestling with his mounting temper, he attempted to compose himself - so the situation wouldn't get any worse than it already was 'after the marriage... I will give you time, to return to normalcy... you will never be forced to do something you're not comfortable doing... that's a promise!'

'A promise?' He wasn't listening to her, was he? Instead, he was trying hard to make this wedding happen! Heera had come here, prepared to give him the benefit of doubt. But the questions that she'd set aside for the sake of diplomacy, came flooding back - forcing her to put up those guarded barriers again. 'Jijasa...'

'Harka...' Mellowing down even further, he advanced towards her.

'I am happy to wait for your sake, after the wedding... till you are ready to accept me as your husband...'

Her face was veiled. But his glimpses fell upon her fair palms and the sight of how one of her fingers were running patterns over her knuckles. Was it a sign of nervousness? If it was, it somehow gave him sadistic pleasure to see her intimidated. He wanted to seize those palms and coddle them in his clasp. But alas, he had to restrain himself from doing so 'so, tell me... are you still so sure that you do not want a wedding with someone who is being so noble towards you? Why?'

Astonished by his advances, Heera took a calculated step back 'Jijasa' she darted him a displeased glare 'but why would you want a wedding with someone who is not prepared to accept these nobles gestures from you?'

'What?' With her rebuttal being delivered so graciously, Mahendar was left wondering if it was indeed a rebuttal, or if she was toying with him 'Can't you see... I'm doing this for the people of Parnagarh... and for you...to keep YOU safe!'

'Just stay safe, Sahiba!'

Drawing in a deep breath as she dismissed the tell-tale words that'd returned to haunt her, the young lady forged ahead.

'You must remember these claims, jijasa...' Heera spoke up 'I gave my word to Durga and I will protect her sister for as long as is necessary, but not in THIS way!' she paused, waiting for him to realise that she had just repeated his own words 'This is what you'd told Chitranjan kakasa, hadn't you? You'd assured him you didn't need a wedding to protect Parnagarh, I'm curious to know what has changed in the past 10 days, jijasa?'

'W... what?' his breathing grew ragged as he struggled to come up with an answer 'Yes... I had said so then... but now that I think about it... your life is in danger... constant danger... and... what better way for us to make sure no harm comes to you than to make you the princess of Manswar...'

Her gentle eyes narrowed, as Heera read him like a hawk. In fact, she'd been reading him all along - and much to her growing horror, had watched how he masked his simmering anger by a diluted show of concern and empathy. With such effortless ease, did his voice and expressions change! The man was a stellar actor. No wonder jiji had misread him.

What's worse, he had come up with another reason to ensure this marriage went ahead - making it quite clear what he wanted from this deal. Was he always this two-faced or was the greed for Parnagarh blinding his goodness?

'Why Ma... why?' Heera drowned in an ocean of grief, desperately holding onto the only saving grace amidst this ugliness to stay afloat - that jiji was not alive to witness this betrayal. That her sweet sister had escaped the clutches of this evil man in time.

This Kunwarsa was precisely the kind of selfish aristocrat that the sisters had wanted to save 'the wealth of Parnagarh' from - and hereafter, it lay upon Heera's lone shoulders to ensure such a thing did not happen.

But, how was she supposed to do this? How was she supposed to go against a man who'd tricked his way into the hearts of her people? How was she supposed to raise her voice against him at this stage, when only a few might believe her? 'Ma Bhavani help me!'