NOVEL~*Hiding behind a Stranger*~ THREAD 1 - CHAPTERS 1 & 2

Prologue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 1 - Teaser

Having said that; just because she was a brazen warrior-woman with a taste for all things dangerous, did not mean she couldn't be exquisite. Those same khol-filled rivetingly raven eyes that admired the angular legs of a well-bred race horse knew how to spot the finest of embroidery and the rarest of silks too.

No doubt then that where there lay such beauty and power, there were men vying to own it. About a dozen alliances had arrived with recommendations from their Guardian-cum-matchmaker, Maharaj Chitranjan of Bansi. Only to be flummoxed by her answer.

On approaching Parnagarh, these suitors were presented with two terms - terms that they'd have to accept, before Durga Bai would agree to such an alliance.

'I'm bound forever by two precious aspects of my life that a marriage cannot change...

Chapter 1 below

PART 1

CHAPTER 1

The throngs of men fell silent. The sea of vibrant turbans that'd been rustling about stopped still. All eyes were upon the dignitary making his entrance - a minister, with a scroll in his hand.

They instantly knew.

Another day had gone by, waiting hours in the simmering heat of the noon. Another session at the Darbar had passed, with nobles bickering over religious politics. However, the Takht-e-Sulaiman - a floating ornamented throne that signified power and harmony, remained empty. Their ailing Emperor wasn't going to be able to make it to court on this day either.

They waited with bated breath, as the minister unwound the scroll and prepared to read the Emperor's decree aloud 'Shehenshah wishes...' he bellowed, his voice carrying over and beyond the open spaces of the Darbar 'that the lands of Parnagarh continue to remain with its current surviving owners, the two daughters of the Late Mansabdar, Jagat Prasad Singh!' a wave of short murmurs rippled through the assembly 'As was promised to the Mansabdar once, those villages and lands shall not be annexed by anyone...'

The murmurs that had barely stifled, rose again with a furore. The tension was mounting. Everyone present in that session could instantly sense that the declaration was going to come with consequences. What had begun as a small squabble between father and son was gradually evolving into a needless battle. The fact that the father and this son barely got along was no secret. However, this time around, their ruler had actually belittled the prince's petition. This could not end well. Especially since this particular prince was more ambitious and egotistical than most other ambitious egotistical princes they knew.

'This is insane!' banging the arm of his chair, he arose in a kind of frenzy the court had rarely seen 'Those lands belong to the Mughal Empire...'

Many courtiers took an uneasy step back.

'But, that's not true, Shehzade...' of the few nobles that stood their ground, one brave soul had decided to speak up 'That land has belonged to their family for generations... their ancestors died fighting for the Mughal Empire... their father, the Late Mansabdar spent his life serving the Mughal Darbar faithfully...' trying not to be intimidated by the steady glare coming his way, he continued 'He made many contributions towards...'

'I do NOT care what his family did... OR what he did!' once his roar had successfully drowned all noise, the mighty prince walked up to the man who dared to correct him in court 'A Mansabdar's lands are meant to be handed back... especially since he has no sons...' amidst a background of deathly silence, his hoarse voice was even more effective at striking terror.

'B... but' the nobleman uttered, struggling to put up a bold face 'Shehenshah had assured the Mansabdar...'

'Assured?' the prince scoffed at the irony 'And what about the assurances Shehenshah gave me?' while sarcasm drew his lips into a one-sided grin, his fingers tightened around the handle of his sword. The prince did not appreciate being corrected - more so, if the man correcting him was a Hindu nobleman. Now, it would only be a matter of time before he lost his sense of composure and gave in to his impulses. A matter of time before a gory scene would unfold with the noble lying on the floor, bathed in his own blood.

The courtiers had seen it all. And the courtiers had seen it often. Not surprising then that their fear was palpable. Anxious heartbeats soared and nervous sweat poured down their brows as they desperately prayed for the safety of their daring fellowman.

'Shehzade...' the chief minister called out, all of a sudden, possibly managing to save the life of an innocent in the nick of time 'It is not just about the Shehenshah's word... if I recall rightly, a farmaan was issued too... a few years ago...'

'What?' colour returned to his blanched fingers as the prince's grip around the sword handle lightened 'WHAT farmaan? There are no records of it!'

'I apologize if that is so, Shehzade...' the Chief-minister nodded, gradually stepping forth so he took centre stage 'The record-keeper might have somehow missed it... but my memory rarely fails me... I remember an official farmaan, signed and sealed, being awarded to Mansabdar Jagat Prasad Singh... promising him that those lands and villages would remain with his daughters...'

Everyone was astonished by the latest revelation, but the most astonished was the prince. His face awash with several shades of bitterness, he swallowed his pride and let go of the sword handle. Now, it was his turn to take a step back.

A farmaan complicated matters. Defying the contents of a royal farmaan would give his jealous step brothers the one good reason they needed, to have him shackled and imprisoned.

'That darned record-keeper will get his due!' he cursed the man whose mistakes had caused him a setback. Nevertheless, such setbacks had never stopped the prince in the past. It wouldn't stop him now. After all, he wanted those lands - and he wanted it badly.

Parnagarh was only a small territory, a mere collection of valleys and villages - by no means, a massive kingdom that would interest a conqueror like the prince. However, it was the 'soil' laying under the lands that'd garnered much attention lately. The territory, as a recent discovery had revealed, was hiding a treasure trove of rich iron ores. Iron, that would prove immensely useful for both, the treasury and the army.

Having said that, he also wanted to acquire the town so he could defy his aging father and avenge the humiliation he'd been subjected to. So he could teach those corrupt courtiers who continued to favour the Emperor, that HE was the one who wielded real power now.

Seething in muted fury, he walked towards his loyalists - the few men who'd always served him reliably. A minority of generals and nobles, who were prepared to lay their lives for him in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly, a sympathetic hand grasped his shoulder, stopping him midway - it was an obvious effort to show support and solidarity.

'Khalil' the prince responded, before he'd even turned towards the one man he trusted above all. Owning a personality so formidably mighty and a face that'd never been known to flinch in pain, Khalil was a general whose reputation for terror petrified even the greatest of soldiers. Be it a battlefield or the palace grounds, not a single enemy had ever been left standing alive. No wonder then that this warrior had been solely responsible for saving his master's life more times than one could count.

Not caring to hide the fury brimming in his own reddened eyes, the prince faced the man and studied his brows that remained terrifyingly tranquil as always 'What?'

'All will be fine, Huzoor...' Khalil reassured him, aware of his master's growing impatience to seek power and revenge

'Yes... yes...' the prince acknowledged with a nod, silently inspired by the disciplined stillness in his general's eyes. Regrouping himself thereafter, he decided to tackle the issue differently, even if it meant going behind his father's back to do so. And thus it was, that an idea struck him - an idea that steadily evolved into a solid ploy.

'I want proof that such a promise was made... that such a farmaan indeed exists...' he'd rattled the entire courtroom with that abrupt announcement 'I remember no such farmaan...'

The courtiers restlessly stared at one another, and later on at the worried face of their chief minister for some form of guidance. However, even the old wise man seemed unsure what to make of the demand or how to respond to it 'I... I... will... consult with...'

'Wakil-us-Sultanate...' he cut the minister off, letting his rebellious intentions be known 'Have the farmaan produced in court... only THEN, shall I agree with this judgement... unless I see it for myself, I cannot consider this verdict valid...'

The minister eventually nodded in accordance, since there was little else he could do 'I shall send a messenger to the daughters of the Mansabdar... asking them to produce the farmaan in court...'

The overwhelming flashes of rage had subsided. A calmer form of anger had taken over. His ploy was working. He soon whispered, in a tone that none other than Khalil could hear 'Round up my fellowmen...'

Khalil nodded. He already knew what the prince wanted.

Whether bought, brought, stolen or snatched, the prince was going to get his hands on this farmaan, BEFORE it could reach the court.

In the wilderness...

'Shhh Gauri...' murmured the young maid, her otherwise sparkling eyes, now jaded 'She might be asleep!'

'No Dhani... despite everything we've tried, I don't think she is asleep...' the chief-maid's tone was just as low and forlorn as her friend's 'She hasn't slept in days...'

A heavy pause befell their chatter as the irony of that statement struck them - after all, they knew how far the young heiress cherished her sleep

'What's worse... she hasn't eaten properly either...' added the tearful head-chef, Maharaj kaka, a middle-aged rotund man with a kind face, whose entire life had revolved around the Parnagarh Haveli's kitchens 'Ma Bhavani... help us...'

Though the worried staff were immensely pained by her deplorable state, they could do little but offer support and empathy - for anyone else enduring such circumstances would invariably be reduced to a similar plight. Fate had cruelly ripped her young world apart and the only healer for scars that ran so deep was 'time'.

As they suspected, she was awake and she had been listening to their conversations about her. However, she didn't speak up. In fact, she had spoken nothing besides the bare minimum ever since.

Having shut herself from the world, her mind and soul were still too numb to act or to interact. For now, words and sounds were merely an endless stream of noise. Noise that went on hour after hour. Like the occasional whooshing of a gust wafting in through her palanquin curtains. Like the hooves of the horses that tirelessly clanked for the past 5 days...

Trot... trot... trot...

8 days earlier...

Gallop... gallop... gallop

Toughened hooves ploughed through the hot harsh terrain. The tall beasts charged ahead, kicking up storm clouds of desert sand behind them - golden yellow dust that merged perfectly into a coral backdrop of the setting sun.

Men scrambled over one another at the boundary lines for a better view - their faces perspiring profusely due to both, the sweltering heat and the thrill of the aggressive races in front 'Go... go...faster... GO ON!!!' Tense knuckles crunched. Deafening chants of cheer echoed throughout as the stallions sprinted forth with great bursts of energy, competing neck and neck 'Faster... faster...' riders brutally whipped their horses, driving the animals towards hair-raising speeds

After moments that seemed to stretch on for eons, the legs of the swiftest horses successfully carried their riders over the finish line, revealing the event's celebrated champions. A wave of joy instantly swept through most of the crowd, though there were a few left despairing over failed horses and lost bets.

Nevertheless, the famous desert races of the October horse fair had reached its finale, offering its audience what it promised to offer, year after year - thrill and entertainment.

Once the keepers led their animals away to be readied for the upcoming auctions, the crowds slowly began dispersing, seeking shade in the shadows thrown by various tents and canopies around.

'That was quite exciting...' came a sultry voice from within one such tent

Suddenly, several pairs of curious eyes were drawn towards it - an occurrence that had repeated itself countless times since the start of the fair. And not only because the visitors continued to be intrigued by its airy yet splendorous enclosure. Or because the tent enjoyed the best views of the races.

But because its prime occupants were two ladies - beautiful young ladies, of noble blood.

With such horse fairs and auctions being predominantly male affairs, the presence of noblewomen was bound to grab a few gazes. However, what piqued their curiosity further was the fact that the pair were notable personalities, about whom they'd heard both, stunning tales and shocking stories in equal measure.

Tales that spoke of the illustrious lives of two orphaned heiresses, daughters of Mansabdar Jagat Prasad Singh.

'Did you know that the two daughters have diplomatically tackled many silent threats from the capital... and somehow held on to their lands for so long? What an achievement!' 'But I've also heard that they do not entertain any merchants and suitors who hope to profit from the untapped iron mines in their valleys... which makes them sound quite vain!' 'It is difficult to believe that the ladies have continued governing their people quite well, despite the demise of their father four years ago.' 'Yes... but it also sounds strange that their small community regard them as Goddesses... even their father didn't enjoy this sort of respect!'

'Thank you...' she sported an adventurous grin when an angry glare from her guards at the entrance had chased the intrusive attention off 'That's better...'

Despite being seated under a makeshift canopy in the midst of guards and behind a sheer yellow veil, Durga Bai sat noticeably tall and proud - much like the head of a clan should.

Her parents could not have chosen a better name, for her personality was as intense as the gusts of an unpredictable night storm. By the age of 13, she had learnt to shoulder responsibilities with a smile - becoming 'parent' to her sister and a 'guardian' to her entire community. By 17, she could make her own decisions - whether it concerned governing the estate or buying a horse.

Having said that; just because she was a brazen warrior-woman with a taste for all things dangerous, did not mean she couldn't be exquisite. Those same khol-filled rivetingly raven eyes that admired the angular legs of a well-bred race horse knew how to spot the finest of embroidery and the rarest of silks too.

No doubt then that where there lay such beauty and power, there were men vying to own it. About a dozen alliances had arrived with recommendations from their Guardian-cum-matchmaker, Maharaj Chitranjan of Bansi. Only to be flummoxed by her answer.

On approaching Parnagarh, these suitors were presented with two terms - terms that they'd have to accept, before Durga Bai would agree to such an alliance.

'I'm bound forever by two precious aspects of my life that a marriage cannot change...one, Parnagarh... two and more importantly, my sister' her confident message would read 'Firstly, I want my sister to stay with me after the wedding, as my responsibility. When she weds, it would be to a man of her choice, much like I am following my own preferences now. Secondly, I wish that my lands and my people continue to remain under the joint charge of my sister and I, even after the marriage.'

Needless to say, the two demands left their hot-blooded regal pride wounded 'No beauty or grace is worth all that attitude... especially not for a 17 year old spinster with no father, no title and barely a few lands to her name' they huffed, changing tune by the end of the discussions.

That is, most men except one.

Apparently, so besotted was this particular suitor by the honesty and charm in her terms, that he had accepted her conditions and then surprised everyone by taking it a step further too. An unconventional step further. The determined young man had gone against his parent's wishes and offered her his hand in marriage - and this was even before he knew how she looked. Once he'd seen her portrait, there was no going back whatsoever.

Not long after; his parents, the Maharaj and Maharani of the powerful kingdom of Manswar, were forced to give in to their dear Kunwar's choice.

'The fair has been very interesting so far, hasn't it?' he asked. The question wasn't innocent

'Yes it has...' Kunwar Mahendar played along with a grin, his lively eyes still raiding the interiors of the facing tent with impeccable subtlety. The royal campsite of Manswar was not too far from where the tents of Parnagarh sat at the fairgrounds, so he attempted stealing a glance when he could. However, the bustle, the crowds, her guards and her veil didn't allow him a good view.

Many fruitless moments later, the Kunwar conceded defeat, a gentleman's smile outlining his lips 'I think I might have to return to Gujarat, without so much as a glimpse of her...' his pursuit briefly discontinued, he turned towards his confidant and cousin, Tej Raj, a pleasant young man, who was a few years older than him

'Mahendar...' his cousin slapped his shoulder with a boisterous laugh 'We shall try arrange for a meeting before you leave... but, remind your restless heart to take it easy for now... after all... there's only a month to go...before she is yours forever!'

'After all... only a month to go...before you're his forever!' the soft voice in her head seemed to keep repeating itself.

Even in the midst of an array of handsome faces, she couldn't believe how far his brilliance stood out. Just as it did three months ago, when she'd had her first glimpses of his features as he strolled the gardens at the palace of Bansi. The two sisters had been visiting their kakasa - when her betrothed had arrived to discuss formalities with the Maharaj.

On that day too, he was preoccupied in conversation - so, she'd only managed a quick peek - but it was long enough for Durga to be captivated by him, like he was by her.

Though only 18, the kunwar boasted a height and personality that towered over most - the impressive dimensions of his shoulders and arms giving away how prolific a swordsman he was. In fact, the long sword that his grand sheath carried could never have looked as good on anyone else. Legend had it that he was the most feared dueller in all of Manswar - capable of simultaneously handling a sword and a katar, felling up to six opponents singlehandedly.

The man was indeed blessed with it all - a physique so handsome, a manner so dignified and features so well-defined. No wonder then that one glance at him, and it was difficult for anyone to glance away.

At this moment, Durga Bai found herself feeling no different 'Only a month...'

'Yes... only a month to go before you're his forever, jiji!'

This time, the soft voice actually did draw her out of her reverie - and it took her a moment to realise how distracted she'd been - though it was not a distraction she regretted by any means. Nevertheless, it was time to face the real world - at least for a while.

'When you'd said 'exciting', I assumed you'd meant the races and the auctions... but, I was quite wrong! You were referring to the special someone sitting in the opposite tent, weren't you?' the younger heiress whispered with a muted grin, well aware of her sister's love for mischief

After a short pause, Durga whispered back 'Well... if you assumed I ONLY meant the races and auctions, you were undoubtedly mistaken ...' the two siblings erupted into a slew of lively giggles.

Once their sisterly antics had settled down, she held her jiji's palm softly 'Jijasa is smitten by you... but, I am not surprised' she paused 'No doubt, you are fortunate to have found him... however, HE is luckier... to have found you!' her words were flattering, but by no means was the praise unjustified - and they both knew it!

'Thank you...' Durga's bewitching features shimmered with a fresh of glow of radiance. With her loving sister by her side, her beloved sat opposite and her favourite kind of sport unfolding in front - the young lady couldn't envision a happier moment in her life.

Just then, a loud announcement was made, indicating the start of the auction. Soon after, an assembly of horses were paraded towards the centre of the grounds for the benefit of the interested parties.

'Finally...' raising a part of her veil, Durga leaned ahead to get a better picture - her sister and maids left amused by her zeal 'This should be interesting...'

'Are you ready, Baisa?' came the familiarly shaky voice of their manager, Ratan kaka 'The bidding is about to begin...'

She resumed her seat 'Yes'

'Bhavani Ma... save us' he sighed, praying for the best, while preparing for the worst

Had it been his own money being gambled at auction, the lanky middle-aged man wouldn't have been so uptight about it. However, since it was money that belonged to two young ladies he cared for like daughters - and since he was entrusted with the task of managing their finances, he couldn't afford to be so careless. While they were not short of money, they were not rolling in riches either. Besides, such auctions were notorious for luring even seasoned regulars into throwing their wealth away. And the heiress, was new to this game.

'Ready jiji?'

'Ready bitiya?'

'Ready baisa?'

'I'm ready...'

'I can't wait...' the maids squealed. Even the guards couldn't conceal their enthusiasm.

'The winning race horse' the announcer yelled, pointing to a fine specimen 'has been imported from Turkmanistan...a grade 1 thoroughbreed... bidding starts at 5 Rupees 20 dams'

'6 Rupees' the first bid arrived swiftly

'6 Rupees' confirmed the auctioneer

'7 Rupees' jumped in another bidder

'7 Rupees'

'8 Rupees' a merchant joined the battle

'9 Rs'

'9 Rs 20 dams'

After a while, Ratan kaka glimpsed back at his madam - wondering if she was interested in this horse at all. Her expressions gave nothing away and a 17 year old's mind was beyond his ken of understanding. So, he could do little else but wait, while it seemed Durga would do nothing but stare ahead.

Smiling at her manager's restlessness, she continued doing what she was. Unbeknown to most, she was observing her competition by taking advantage of her vantage point. While others could not see the expressions that stayed well-hidden behind her veil, she could watch their faces

So, she saw a military officer, who looked too disciplined. A young royal, who looked quite inexperienced. And a couple of rich merchants, who looked like they would be tough competition.

When the time came, she made a daring move

'Please place an offer for 20 Rupees, kakasa'

'S...s... straightaway at 20 Rupees, bitiya?' he desperately struggled to find the right words, hoping he could get her to change her mind 'It is better to bid in small amounts... because...'

'Trust me, kakasa...' she whispered tenderly 'I know what I am doing...'

'Are you sure about it?'

'Yes!' Durga urged the man, lest it became too late 'Rupees 20... quickly...'

He eventually made the bid '20 Rupees'

Soft waves of murmurs instantly swept through the crowd of onlookers for a short while, till offers started trickling in from the surprised bidders once again

'20 Rupees 20 dams'

'20 Rupees 30 dams'

'21 Rupees...'

'25 Rupees'

The sale was brought to another brief halt - all befuddled eyes upon the ladies in the tent. As the people present in the fair tried to work out the basis behind such rash bidding, they came up with two possibilities - either the ladies had to be too eager to win the horse, or they had no idea how auctions worked.

In any event, the dealings had to persist

'26 Rupees' a merchant proclaimed, flaunting his wealthy status

'26 Rupees 25 dams'

'27 Rupees'

'30 Rupees' she ordered her manager to declare. He couldn't believe his ears. The maids couldn't believe their ears. Why, even the guards who'd been enthralled by the thrills of a bidding match so far, couldn't believe their ears. The only member in that camp who appeared unruffled by Durga's seemingly-reckless adventures was her younger sister.

Anyhow, her manager had to do as told.

'30 Rupees...'

The crowd fell silent. And stayed silent. By now, they were certain that the ladies wanted the race horse for themselves and would not let anyone else have it.

'30 Rupees... anyone else?' the auctioneer asked aloud, the uneasiness in his voice quite audible

'31 Rupees...' a merchant countered

'31 Rupees...25 dams'

'31 Rupees... 30 dams'

'40 Rupees...'

40 Rupees? Grown men cupped their mouth in shock, too startled to blink or breathe, in case they missed the action.

40 Rupees! She knew she had taken a big risk, but it was a final risk that she had to take, hoping the proud merchant would fall for the bait. Thankfully, her judgement paid off.

From thereon, the speed at which the next few offers came in, escalated. Their arrogant glances fixed upon her tent all through, two groups bid over each other, expecting the ladies to come up with yet another big number at any moment - which never came. The heightened frenzy that hadn't stopped soon enough culminated in a figure so high, even Durga was taken by surprise

'55 Rs' a merchant yelled aggressively, possessed by an unsurpassed compulsion to win

'Huh?' the crowd gasped when they heard the unbelievable offer. An offer too high for even that calibre of horse. An offer literally unheard of, at auctions in these regions!

And it was at the very next moment that he realised his folly. A man as shrewd as him had overspent on a horse - and all because he didn't want to be termed as 'The merchant who'd publicly lost to a lady'!

On the other hand, Ratan Kaka breathed the biggest sigh of relief - relief that his madam had finally given up on this foolishly expensive race. Little was he to know - as were most others - that Durga Bai was beaming victoriously within the secure confines of her veil. By toying with their egos, she had just rid herself of the toughest competitor.

Subsequently; the next horse was brought forth, while spectators stared on, unsure of what sort of uproar to expect this time around. And as feared, she repeated the same theme again, albeit a bit more cautiously. By the end, she'd successfully pushed another competitor out of the race - much to the bewilderment of her own folk and much to the annoyance of the vain aristocrats who'd succumbed to her antics once more.

'Refreshing...' sipping on some water, she waited for the third horse to be brought forth, while trying not to let herself be too distracted by thoughts of the Kunwar's presence, or his intent gazes that would be transfixed in her direction. Instantly, her disobedient heart skipped a few more obvious beats - as if it hadn't been behaving frisky enough already. Hundreds of other invasive stares in that fair hadn't bothered her in the least. However, the very thought that she was the fascination of his magnetic eyes chased her pulse into a wild flurry 'Lord...' Durga instinctively pulled the veil across her chest as though it'd hide her heart's errant ways from those around.

'Lost again, jiji? I wouldn't have disturbed your thoughts... but I think the horse you ACTUALLY want to buy, has arrived...'

'W... what?' her dreamy gazes widened in amazement. Rare was the occasion when Durga Bai was tongue-tied, but this was one such. She turned around to face her sister - and confronted the most beautiful pair of eyes that she'd ever known. Eyes enviably shaped like perfect almonds with long sweeping lashes to frame them. Eyes whose honey-coloured depths sparkled in various shades of brown and hazel behind a green veil 'How did you know?'

Noting how astonished her query sounded, she let slip a victorious grin 'Jiji... you've used the same tricks for the first horse and the second one... no one is going to fall for it the third time around... I'm certain you already knew it... so, I inferred that it had to be the third horse you were after!'

'Harka Bai!' Durga spelled out a proud moment later, something she did every time she was either too impressed or too annoyed with her younger sister 'You have to be the wisest 16 year old to walk this Earth!'

Harka Bai, or Heera, as she was lovingly called, relented with a captivating smile 'You've told me that before...'

And just as they'd hoped, the heiress ended up winning the third one, a nimble-looking hybrid 'Marwari' racehorse, for a reasonable price - a result of her tactics that had thrown the aggressive bidders off their game.

'What an exceptionally rewarding day' she celebrated with her sibling at the end of it all

She'd found the breed of stallion she wanted. Without paying too much for it. Had a good time throughout. And possibly taught a few egotistical men some lessons in humility. Precisely the kind of day a sport like her could wish for!

(Glossary of terms included in post below)

Teaser for Chapter 2

'The man who came in my dreams was a gentleman...' the heiress paused, waiting for them to react

'Oh...'

'A refined gentleman... who knew how to treat everyone with kindness...'

'Really? And...'

'He had a large family' she spread her palms out, relishing the thought. Growing up without an extended - or even an immediate family - had made her crave for the presence of a busy household more than most 'Lots of sisters and brothers to interact with... and even cousins, nieces and nephews to dote upon!'

'All right... and then... what else?'

'What about his face?'

She bit the insides of her lip, aware of precisely what they were waiting for 'His smiles were so warm, they lit up my world...'

'Oh...' the enthralled audience remarked in unison. By this point, the ladies were listening so intently that they had lost sense of place and time. Even the pesky twilight insects hovering around their ears had stopped bothering them.

'And what about his looks?'

'Tell us more...'

Chapter 2 below

CHAPTER 2

Rounding up the coins in his palm, Ratan kaka was about to count them the third time around - a habit, he couldn't rid himself of - when he was stopped half way through.

The horse-keeper had lost his sense of composure and abruptly stuck his palm out 'It's only 15 odd Rupees... not 15,000!' No sooner than the manager gave in and handed the amount over, he pocketed the coins, simultaneously grumbling under his breath 'What a terrible day! Sahib is not going to be very pleased... our horses have never sold for less than 20... and...'

'Oh really?' retorted the very young maid with a funny accent, her dainty features flickering alive in a random burst of temper. Obviously, she had overheard his grumbling and construed what she could from the little Urdu she knew 'Are you trying to imply that we are mean? Or that we have tricked you?'

He didn't give her the benefit of an answer, instigating her temper further

'Neither are we mean people... nor do we trick others. If anything, YOU are the one being mean now... and you can tell your 'Sahib' I said that!'

'I implied nothing of the sort...' his nostrils flared up 'Mind your tongue...'

With the elaborate travel arrangements for their return journey organised and co-ordinated, Gauri's blank glances then fell upon the ornate rosewood trunks by her feet. 'Bindiya has been gone for far too long!' she confided with the ladies who were busy packing away their mistresses' belongings in the tent. Sliding aside the edges of her embroidered veil, she peeped out.

The sun was beginning its descent towards the horizon. The once hectic scenes were now winding down, the extensive fairgrounds beginning to resemble the stark desertlands they were, before it all began

'Oh my...' Her instincts were right. They always were. After all, it was this insight, combined with her good sensibilities and immense charisma that fooled many into thinking she was an aristocrat, when in reality, she was chief-maid. A caretaker. A duty, she fulfilled with great pride and dedication, thus earning the respect of one and all 'I think Bindiya has landed both, herself and Ratan kaka in trouble...'

'W... what!' Dhani hastily abandoned her work and stood up, along with the remaining bevy of maids 'Why, what is happening?'

'I shall follow up on it...' vouched the chief guard, Mohan banna - the rank of 'chief' more a reflection of his leadership and dedication, than of his age, since he was barely older than 30

'Yes...'

'We must go...' added Gokul and Bajrang, two other guards whose hot-headed attitudes seemed to be immensely tempted by the prospect of a confrontation 'That Mughal horse keeper... who knows what tricks he has been up to?'

But before the zealous group could leave the tent in search of their missing associates, a gentle suggestion stopped them in their tracks

'Wait... I shall come along too...'

They spun around, stunned

'Choti baisa?'

'Why must you step out amongst the rush of commoners... it's mostly men there...'

'We will handle it...'

Having been a silently amused spectator of their conversations so long, Heera rid the half-smile on her lips before she began 'Well...' she wondered about which of the many reasons to give them.

Firstly, she had nothing else to do. Jiji wasn't around to keep her company - what with her quiet departure from the camp following a hush-hush message she received from jijasa a short while ago.

But more importantly, Heera knew that if the situation became hostile - as she feared it would - her presence would avert an invariable tussle.

Therefore, she casually came up with a third reason to justify her going along 'I would like to go for a stroll... it would do my restless feet some good!'

'Your manners are worse than your Urdu... you know that?'

'Oh, is that so?' Bindiya thumped her palms on her hips, ready to defend her honour - attracting quite a large crowd in the process

'YES!'

'Errr... Bindiya...' Ratan kaka made an effort to don the role of peacemaker again, but in vain. He wasn't even that old, but his voice sounded frail in comparison to their booming insults 'BITIYA...' he yelped once more and at the loudest pitch his voice could reach 'Let's LEAVE!'

'But how could he speak to me that way, kakasa?' and before the manager had had a chance to reply, she'd reverted to berating her newfound enemy

'Ma Bhavani' the poor man grabbed his shawl, wiped his temple and slapped the cloth back upon his shoulder - wondering what must have possessed him when he agreed to chaperone this particular young lady all by himself 'Save me from this!'

'How dare you insult my manners?'

'SAHIB! Please take this unreasonable bandi away or I'll...'

'DON'T!' a curt warning had cut the trader's sentence midway 'Don't you dare speak to them in that manner!'

Startled; he glimpsed up and at what looked like an entire regiment come to the rescue of this quarrelsome maid 'Actually...' the lone man tried masking the fact that he was suddenly lost for words 'S... she should not have started it... calling my Sahib and I names... referring to us as 'mean'!'

A brief lull of uncertainty and silence followed

'Then you and your Sahib MUST have done something mean...' taunted Gokul, immediately generating a few startled gasps amongst the masses

'Gokul...' Mohan objected, but it was too little too late

'That was uncalled for!!!' the trader pulled up his sleeves - he'd had enough of the abuse 'I'm calling my friends over... and then we'll show you how 'mean' we can really be!'

'DO it...'

'We are ready!'

But before the guards could retaliate by drawing out their swords, they were interrupted by a soft exclamation uttered in the most charmingly feminine of tones

'My...that was impressive!'

The horse keeper's fingers were rooted where they were a moment ago. Someone had stepped forth from behind the wall of guards - the very appealing profile of a noblewoman, who couldn't be entirely hidden even by the floating green drape veiling her.

This time, the man was at a definite loss for words.

'Pardon me' Heera stopped in front of the perplexed trader 'I couldn't help but notice your accent... you must originally be from some place North of the capital...'

'W...wh...' his head jerked back in bafflement. For a moment, he wondered if he'd heard her question right, his mind very sceptical about this young lady's intentions 'Yes I am...' his reply came out as a grunt 'So?'

'Your accent is so refined... I have been trying to learn Urdu myself...' she indicated towards her people with a casual sweep of her hand 'Trying to teach them too... but as you can see, we have a long way to go... that's why I assume my innocent daasi misinterpreted what you must have said... please forgive her for it, since mastering a dialect is no easy task...'

He took a while, a good while to wonder what tricks lurked under that sophisticated attempt at praise and apology, but he could find none. So, he accepted it as it sounded, though not letting himself be too swayed by it 'W... why Sahiba...' his palms fidgeted clumsily 'Y... you do speak Urdu quite well, yourself...'

'Thank you...' the heiress nodded, deliberately delaying her next question 'So, I hope all is fine now?'

'Y... yes...'

'Oh' she paused swiftly - as a mark of surprise 'How thoughtless of me...' turning aside, she addressed her chief-maid 'Gauri... the man has a long way to go... ask him if he'd like some spiced-grams for the journey?'

'N... no...' his refusal was quick - till the suspicious horse keeper subsequently realised that this could not be an attempt to have him poisoned. The hot snacks seemed to have been bought just now, at the fair.

'As you wish...'

'A... all right' he hurriedly reversed his decision, before it was too late and he ended up regretting his entire return journey for having refused a presumably-good offer 'If you insist... I'll have some...'

'Please give him two handfuls... the journey is long...'

Gauri did as told - with the man only too glad to accept the additional gift 'You are very gracious, Sahiba...'

'Thank you...'

His worries long forgotten - owing to the heiress' subtle tact - the horse keeper extended the lady his most earnest salute, the wide smile on his face reflecting that this had unexpectedly ended up as one of the better days of his life!

Once they were well beyond earshot, Heera turned around, faced Gokul and the rest of the erring guards - and then, she waited in silence.

The men gave each other a brief glimpse, before meeting eyes with her again. They knew their actions were going to be questioned, but when the moment came, they found themselves feeling unsettled

'T... times are changing, Choti baisa...'

'We Hindus are not respected now...' somehow, their words didn't sound as convincing as they'd wanted

'We are not treated like we were during Shehenshah Jalal-ud-din Mohammed Akbar's era ...or even during Shehenshah Jahangir's era...'

Her eyes didn't flinch, her voice didn't falter 'So, you'd planned to avenge an entire community's frustrations by punishing one innocent man?'

'Choti baisa... we were only teaching him a lesson...'

She gave them a look - it was not a glare - it was not a stare - merely a 'look' and the men knew they were beginning to cross the line. The very next instant, they hung their head in remorse

'We apologize Choti baisa...'

'We will not disappoint you again...'

'I know...' Heera reassured them of her faith in their inherent goodness

Then; her attention shifted to Bindiya

The maid had rehearsed a long list of clarifications, but from her mistress' sceptical frown it soon became clear that none of it would work. So, she bit her lip sheepishly and said what she knew was expected of her 'I am sorry baisa... I shall learn to discipline my temper henceforth...'

'All right' Heera nodded, her subsequent smile dispelling all of Bindiya's lingering concerns

Just as the ambience settled to normalcy, the chief guard called out to her to address an issue that'd been nagging him for a good while now 'Harka baisa...'

'Yes?'

'Durga baisa went riding over an hour ago... and she hasn't returned yet...' his glances continued surveying the vast surroundings as he spoke 'I'd advised her not to go...'

'Jiji is not alone...' Heera chimed in, trying to put his ever vigilant mind at ease 'You must know she is meeting with Kunwar Mahendar... so... I think it's fair to say that she is in very safe company...'

'Yes' he paused, maintaining his characteristic 'straight face' despite the fact that the maids were somehow finding the situation funny 'But, what I meant to say was that it's nearly dusk... and she has to leave for Parnagarh soon...'

She slowly nodded in agreement - he did have a point 'You are right... let's join them now...'

As they began treading back, Heera heard something faint beside her - a familiar mumble of some sort. A few moments on and a knowing smile graced her lips - it was her preoccupied manager talking to himself

'Kakasa, counting coins in your head, again?' she teased

Distracted from his thoughts, an astonished Ratan kaka glanced up - certain he couldn't have been all that loud 'Yes bitiya...' he scratched his wrinkled forehead 'That horse keeper never allowed me to count in peace... and I can't find peace, till I know for certain, how much I have left!'

'You must have 4 Mohurs, 25 Rupees and 70 dams left...'

His eyes grew wide 'Are you certain?' he asked - to be sure, though quietly confident that he'd got his answer

'The last time you counted, I remember you had 4 Mohurs, 40 Rupees and 100 dams... we bought nothing apart from the horse, and five handfuls of spiced-grams since!' she clarified with a casual grin - hoping that the adorably-quirky old man would now find the 'peace' he was so desperately seeking!

Out in the desert...

With every heaving gallop that her horse took, the rush of autumn air embraced her face and coursed through the length of her tresses, blowing back its many curls. The sensation was breathtaking - like the many other sensations she'd been experiencing.

The excitement of exploring undiscovered landscapes. The challenge of navigating a new horse through untrodden grounds. The pleasure derived from flaunting her riding skills in front of a prince. The luxury of listening to the little sounds of joy - sounds of jhumkas tinkling. Of bangles clinking. Of their unabated laughter merging. Of her heartbeats soaring.

'This is bliss! Doing what I love, with the man I love... what could possibly be more heavenly?' Durga concluded, the romantic in her wishing it all never had to end, though the realist in her was aware that other urgent responsibilities were beckoning them at that point.

By coincidence, it was then that she noticed the distinctive silhouettes of her entourage emerging from the Eastern horizon. Her features aglow with contentment, she made the eventual decision to bring their sporty pursuits to an end.

'Thank you' the heiress murmured to her new horse once they'd slowed down, as gratitude for making the first tryst with her prince so perfect. Strangely, the steed responded with a faint snort too, as though in agreement with its mistress

'Oh...' she patted its neck, pleasantly stunned 'I think you understand me well'

The Kunwar nimbly jumped off his stallion to assist her down from her own, smiling at the myriad of expressions glazing her face just then 'Not only do you know how to bargain for a horse, you know how to handle one well too!' he said, suppressing his awe. Truth was that he could barely come to terms with her riding skills. She had matched his speed all along, which was no easy task by itself - but the fact that she had achieved it despite riding sideways on an unfamiliar beast, had to make her the best horsewoman out there

'Thankyou... but I must tell you, Kunwarsa...' her jovial tone reflected a hint of warning 'Such hobbies are frowned upon... and, I'm only giving people more reason to gossip about me...'

'Why do you think so?'

'Well...' Durga shrugged 'I'm not married yet... and participating in such games with you, out in the open... is considered inappropriate...' the heiress indicated towards the views afar, quietly giggling at the scenes she knew awaited her 'There... my retinue has arrived in search of me... now, I will be subjected to a long sermon from Gauri, a long glare from Mohan banna and a long set of questions from the rest of the curious ladies!'

'We will be married next month...' Mahendar reminded 'Riding alongside each other for an hour is no crime... besides, for the past three months, all I've had to go by were three messages and a portrait of yours!' he gave his hand to help her alight

Noticing his invitation, a very unfamiliar kind of bashfulness began threatening her composure, taking her a while to find the courage to accept his offer.

'Worry not' Mahendar whispered, watching the Braveheart falter 'My men respect me too much to speak wrong of you... and your people love you too much to spread tales about you... so, hand me your palm...'

Admiring his gentlemanly yet assertive attitude, Durga decided to relent. She placed her palm within the warmth of his clasp, her heart fluttering nervously at their first touch.

'By the way, since when did YOU worry about gossip?' he teased

And she teased him back by toying with his gazes for a while 'Maybe since I met you?'

'A marvel of nature' he remarked, as he managed to catch a rare direct glimpse of her kohl-filled eyes just then - what with the ride having shuffled the veil from her face. So intense was the authority in those eyes that he was certain they could bring even the fiercest of soldiers to their knees. The rest of her features were not far behind either - her skin a lucid ivory, lips redder than rubies, hair falling in distinct curls.

It was when she swiftly drew her veil down with a half-smile that he realized he'd been gazing too long. And too intently.

Glancing aside before his eyes were compelled to notice her chest that was still heaving from the riding games, he continued 'By the way, we have another reason to celebrate, besides the wedding!'

She waited for him to continue

'The fact that the Emperor and court ruled in your favour... you get to keep your lands!'

'Aren't they beautiful together?' Heera remarked softly, while they lazed on the dry patch of grass, waiting for the duo to arrive

'She is glowing with happiness...'

'After all... she's found the love of her life!'

'And Choti baisa, I wonder when ... and how... YOU shall find your Kunwar!'

'Oh Dhani...' Heera sighed at the mischievous one, who someone how managed to end every conversation on that note

'I've been meaning to ask...' Bindiya snuck up on her mistress from behind 'Have you had a chance to glimpse at Kunwarsa's cousin, Kunwar Tej Raj Singh? He is very elegant... I hear he is very kind and good-natured...'

'And he has two wives...' Heera pointed out, before she could continue any further

'Oh! Alright' Bindiya whined, twirling the ends of her veil 'What about their Senapati? Kunwarsa holds him in very high regard...'

Abruptly jerked out of any fanciful notions she might have been dreaming about, Heera turned in the direction of her youngest maid 'What?'

'I... I... meant... I asked if you'd seen the Senapati... because... he's very powerful...'

'Bindiya!' Heera frowned in alarm. Yes, she'd noted how gargantuan of a man the Senapati was, and while she was pleased that jijasa had such mighty friends, she had no wish to marry one of them for that.

'Bindiya stop being silly' Gauri put an instant end to the immaturity, before drifting around to face her mistress, an unusually jaunty smirk creeping upon her face 'Not the Senapati, I agree... but, we would love to know what kind of person makes the man of your dreams...'

'Gauri... you too?' the heiress shook her head in playful disapproval 'First tell me if Gokul has returned... was he able to locate the river? We need the sacred water for the Mahapooja tomorrow...'

'No Gauri...' Dhani quickly shushed her friend's mouth, so the tantalising topic would not be buried yet again 'Firstly, Choti baisa shall tell us about her choice of man...'

'Yes baisa' they pressed on 'You do dream... don't you?'

The captivating young heiress didn't reply at once - but, of course she had dreams.

Though her responsibilities required her to be a mature young lady at most times, inside, Harka Bai was every bit a 16 year old who still fantasised of finding the kind of love her jiji had found. But not everyone knew that. Because unlike the older sister's impassioned charisma that blazoned like wild fire, the younger one's luring personality was quiet and calming like the smouldering coals of a homely hearth. She wasn't the agile horse-riding weapon-wielding athlete her jiji was, but what she was, was a gifted learner. A mathematician. A linguist. A biologist. And most importantly, an expert healer. By having never let pride get in the way of acquiring knowledge, she'd thus accomplished at 16, what most people twice her age couldn't.

And despite such exceptional intelligence and beauty, her best attribute, people thought, was her grace. In the face of adversity, she was more poised and stoic than most aristocrats. The same patience and composure with which she tackled challenges and managed business had allowed her to convert a barren patch of aangan into a sprawling herbarium.

Infact, so extraordinary a lady was she that a few jealous contemporaries wondered if she was too well-read, too beautiful and too mystical for her own good.

But her own people knew her true worth.

Wrapping her palms around her knees, she began singing 'Alright... I have a confession to make... I did dream of someone, lately...' now that she'd taken everyone by complete surprise, she stopped her song, all of a sudden

'You dreamt of someone and you haven't spoken of it for so long?'

'Tell us about him... please baisa...'

'Was he tall?'

'How did his voice sound?'

'What about his colour? Was he fair? Or, dark?'

'Which state did he belong to?' Was he a prince or a soldier?'

'Hmmm...' she pretended to muse, and then did nothing but blink her eyelashes flirtatiously - testing the limits of their patience as she did so

'You've hummed and hawed enough, baisa...'

'Stop tormenting us this way...'

'Oh my...' the heiress broke out into a lengthy fit of chuckles

And just as they were about to give up on their quest, she decided to give in to the lovably-sullen faces of her maids - young ladies who were more 'friends' to her than they ever were 'maids'

'The man who came in my dreams was a gentleman...' the heiress paused, waiting for them to react

'Oh...'

'A refined gentleman... who knew how to treat everyone with kindness...'

'Really?'

'And...'

'He had a large family' she spread her palms out, relishing the thought. Growing up without an extended - or even an immediate family - had made her crave for the presence of a busy household more than most 'Lots of sisters and brothers to interact with... and even cousins, nieces and nephews to dote upon!'

'All right...'

'And then... what else?'

'What about his face?'

She bit the insides of her lip, aware of precisely what they were waiting for 'His smiles were so warm, they lit up my world...'

'Oh...' the enthralled audience remarked in unison. By this point, the ladies were listening so intently that they had lost sense of place and time. Even the pesky twilight insects hovering around their ears had stopped bothering them.

'And what about his looks?'

'Tell us more...'

'How should I know? I didn't see his face!'

The very next instant, her fit of chuckles resurfaced

'Choti Baisa...' they moaned and groaned, slumping their shoulders as they realised she'd been taking them for a ride. Nevertheless; they loved her for it and hoped she would soon find her man - a man as good as their older heiress had found.

'My lands are still with me, because I give greedy tyrants NO reason to take them away!' Durga proclaimed, the grins of a demure lover having effortlessly evolved into those of a determined leader in no time 'All our taxes are paid on time... all Mughal laws are followed... the mansion and the employees are our own... the surrounding lands are a gift from the Emperor himself... and yet, Shehzade is unhappy...' crossing the final stretches that led towards her people, she waited till they'd rejoined them before broaching another sensitive topic

'We received a message yesterday... they want us to bring the Farmaan to court... but, I know what the Shehzade's true intentions are!'

'Yes...' Mahendar's jaw tightened at the taboo subject. The very mention of the 'Shehzade' and his ghastly intentions only served as a constant reminder of how helpless they all were against such superior yet sadistic power like his 'I heard about it too...' the Kunwar took a step closer to her, appearing increasingly worried 'But, make sure that you send the Farmaan with your most reliable messenger... actually, I can send my troops over to accompany...'

'That's very noble of you Kunwarsa' Durga interrupted him, albeit kindly 'But I would prefer taking it myself... the fact that no one knew about the Farmaan was why it was safe all these days... now that's it out in the open, I can't entrust anyone else with it... besides, I have stirred such scandal in court that the Shehzade might actually grant me a personal meeting... ' the heiress beamed at her group reassuringly 'Hopefully, THEN I should be able to discuss and resolve some of Parnagarh's problems!'

The spirit with which she'd made that remark about something so grave, was a sure-sign that nothing would change her mind about her plans. The Farmaan was the lifeline of entire Parnagarh - and Durga neither trusted, nor wanted to trouble anyone else with the burden of such a momentous responsibility 'Heera is camping here, to complete her mannat, since the Mahapuja at the Jagdamba mandir starts tomorrow... but, I have to return home to attend to some pressing matters... I shall start preparations for my travels soon thereafter...'

The young Kunwar shook his head, not too convinced despite the positivity in her spirit 'Durga... this is such a dangerous venture...'

'I know...'

'I strongly advice you against it!'

'I wholeheartedly agree Kunwarsa... but what can be done to one who's so adamant?' the prickling sarcasm in that message was hard to miss, especially since it was from someone so poised - obvious that this type of discussion was something the two sisters argued about, a hundred times over 'And since I have to stay back here, I wouldn't even be at home when jiji...'

'Heera... Heera... as promised... I AM taking 20 guards along...' Durga had to force the younger sister to face her, so she could observe the charming worry lines behind that veil 'What else would you like me to do, my dear Harka Baisa?' her tone had become very respectful and her smiles very patient. She waited for the playful trickery to work. And waited some more. Till Heera was compelled to cave in

'You'll take 30 guards...'

'I'll take 40 if it makes you happy...' the older sister assured with a twinkle in her eye, dissipating some of the tension 'Please don't worry...' she addressed the rest of her group 'ALL of you!'

A long awkward pause ensued, but no one spoke of the unpleasant matter again

'Kunwarsa... we must be on our way now' the Senapati broke the stillness in his typical roar 'The Shehzade sent us orders to take charge of the unrest in Gujarat two days ago... he'll expect us to be there...'

Acknowledging the dire facts with a long sigh, Mahender shifted his attention to his betrothed

'Good luck to you, my dear... ' he flashed her a dispirited smile - to which she reciprocated with slightly more cheer 'Good luck to you too, Kunwarsa'

His expressions mellowing many shades gentler, he turned to wish the younger heiress 'Take care, Harka... and please take care of my bride for me...'

'I will, Kunwarsa... wish you well for your journey...'

'You too...'

Later that evening...

For the third time the palanquin had nearly taken off from the ground and for the third time the palanquin-bearers had been forced to set it down.

Their fateful young lives had seen the sisters bid each other many goodbyes in the past. Many tough decisions had they endured in the call of duty. Many risky ventures had their responsibilities forced them to take. Yet today's farewell seemed to be strangely difficult and solemn. Even a few light hearted words from their maids couldn't uplift the mood.

For one, the send-off was unusually tearful. However, it wasn't even the sight of mist in those bold eyes that made Heera nervous, it was the tinges of fear in her jiji's voice that shook her core.

Never before had she heard Durga Bai's voice quiver. But it did today.

'Don't go jiji... stay back with us for the Mahapooja!' she forcefully swallowed down a lump 'After, we return to Parnagarh... we could leave for the capital together'

'For someone who's wise beyond her age, you're making silly suggestions ...' teased Durga with a half-smile, wiping off a tear that she vowed would be her last 'If I stay back' she put up a finger to begin counting 'Who's going to inspect the crops? Remember... harvest begins tomorrow! And, who's going to pay the labourers?'

'Jiji...'

'Who's going to supervise the stable-boys and barn-caretakers?'

'Jiji...'

'Who'll monitor your precious herbarium?'

'Jiji... I...'

'Who'll check upon the rest home? What if Vaid Kakasa or his patients need help?'

'Jijiii...'

'And there's NO way you can travel to the capital with me...' she announced unchallenged, a victorious smirk replacing the frowns that'd been marking her face so long 'You have to stay back and take care of all this when I'm gone!'

'All right, you win!' Heera played along 'I will do as you say... but promise me that you'll be careful...'

A pensive interval followed 'Of course I will!' she nodded, tugging the little sister into her palanquin for one last embrace

'By the way... I'm tired of being dominated by you... I can't wait to start dictating the rules, once you're back!' no sooner than Durga's curiosity had been piqued, the young prankster revealed 'Well... your wedding preparations will be in full swing hereafter... and the bride does as her family says!'

Both heiresses burst out into a bout of heartfelt giggles - giggles that were laced with many layers of sadness and fear, a fact that was not hidden from either sister.

Present day...

In the wilderness...

'You have to stay back and take care of all this when I'm gone!'

Heera's empty glare drooped down till it fell upon the two artefacts nestled within her cold palms - a diamond ring and a small urn of ashes - precious artefacts that not too long ago formed the very identity and essence of Durga Bai

'I didn't even listen to your last words, jiji!'

(Glossary of terms included in post below)

GLOSSARY OF TERMS

Takht-e-Sulaiman - Solomon's seat i.e. Emperor's throne (Urdu/Persian)

Shehzade - prince (Urdu/Persian)

Shehenshah - Emperor (Urdu/Persian)

Wazir-us-Sultanat - Chief minister (Urdu/Persian)

Farmaan - official decree/document (Urdu/Persian)

Maharaj/Maharani - King/Queen

Kunwar - Prince (Generally used in Rajputana)

Baisa - Lady/Miss/Mrs/Madam (Marwari)

DISCLAIMER - This story is only inspired from events and characters in history and not an actual depiction of events. I have read/researched upon the culture and timelines of that era to give the events a genuine feel, but since I am no historian, and since this is only a dramatized story, there might be inaccuracies, which I hope you would be able to overlook in the name of Lashy Rupantar! 🤔😃

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