NOVEL*Hiding behind a Stranger*Historical fiction-PART 3-

'Ooowch'

His eyelids shrunk shut as soon as a thin beam of light slipping-in through the curtain slits struck his face hard. He squeezed both sides of his aching head between his palms 'I need a maid... to massage my head...'

He tried getting up using the support of his elbows, and that was when he noticed his semi-clad torso 'Oh' his hazy glances incidentally slipped towards the feminine silhouette, that lay under the covers, beside him. 'Durga?'

'No... no...' he winced 'it's my wife!'

Then again, she did bear a striking resemblance to Durga Bai. Isn't that why he'd picked her from an array of proposals and paintings of Rajkumaris that they'd received, following their uneventful trip to Bansi.

Once upright, he went about doing up the undone knots of his tunic - which was not an easy task given the state that he was in!

'Kunwarsa... Kunwarsa Mahendar... a soldier has brought news for you!'

'Ma Bhavani!' Did someone have to call for him NOW?

'Ask him to wait outside...' groaned the prince.

Grabbing a couple of minted clove pods from a bedside bowl, he stuffed himself with the mouth freshener to mask the smell of alcohol he'd downed after his wife had slept.

He brushed back his hair, neatened his attire and temporarily forgot the fact that he was suffering from an acute hangover. He did not like to be caught looking shabby - not by his soldiers, not even by his wife.

'My dear...' He caressed her hair 'wake up...'

'Huh?' She stirred on her pillow 'Wh... what?'

'It's past sunrise'

'Sunrise? Wait... what!'

She sat up with a start 'PAST sunrise?'

She hurriedly got off the bed to get herself presentable - retying her veil, slipping on jewellery and brushing her hair as fast as her fingers would allow her to do so 'Kunwarsa...' Her voice was almost shaking from panic 'you appear fresh... How long have you been awake?'

'Almost an hour'

'Almost an hour?' her eyes widened 'Then, why didn't you wake me up, Kunwarsa?'

'I did mean to wake you up... But, when I saw you fast asleep... my eyes were drawn towards your angelic features... I began gazing and lost track of time...'

'Kunwarsa...' She gasped, pulling her veil down to hide her flushed cheeks 'you spoil me with flattery... but, with your permission, I must leave now'

Taking his silence as a 'yes', she made haste towards the entrance.

But just as she was about to exit, a firm hand grabbed her from behind 'I didn't give you permission to leave, you know...' he whispered in her ears, slipping his palm around her waist.

'Kunwarsa... I... I...' her throat dried up - from the effects of her husband's avid affections - and even more so from fear of what her mother-in-law would have to say about her delay! 'Three days in a row, I've overslept... and... and... and... been late for the morning prayers... what will Ranisa think of me? She wasn't too happy yesterday...'

'You can tell her the truth...' he grinned softly, being a tease 'that I'm the evil one who's been keeping you awake all night...'

'Kunwarsa... y... you know I wouldn't say that...'

Amused, Mahendar turned her around to study her eyes.

Her eyelids were lowered, but he knew her mind.

She was a typical chaste young lady who would never speak ill of her husband, come what may.

He liked that about her.

Her hair fell in distinct curls, framing cheeks of lucid ivory. Her lips were redder than rubies and her eyes a riveting raven-black. She reminded him of someone in particular.

He liked that about her.

She was well-cultured and came from an eminent family of aristocrats. She had untainted royal Rajput blood in her. And he definitely liked that about her.

The wedding might've been a rushed affair, but he could not have asked for a more ideal wife to carry on the Manswari lineage. And he would cherish her for it.

Yet still, she was innocent as a lamb - never questioned anything he said, never defied anything he did. Basically, she didn't 'challenge' him. She was no Durga Bai.

Perhaps, there was no other Durga Bai.'

Darn Khalil!'

Kissing his wife on the forehead, he gave her his permission 'Alright my dear... you may go now...'

'Thank you...' she stroked his hand with love, before turning around to join her maids.

He waited for the sounds of anklets to fade from the corridors outside, before summoning his soldier into an adjacent meeting room.

'Khamma Ghani Kunwarsa...'

'It's been a while' Mahendar nodded 'I do hope you have good reason for your prolonged absence...'

The soldier's eyes gleamed with a sense of achievement 'You might want to take a seat, Kunwarsa... you wouldn't believe what updates I've brought you!'

'Take a seat?' the prince jutted his chin out 'Are you suggesting that I'm too delicate to face the news you've brought me?'

'No... no... no... I wouldn't dare suggest such a thing, Kunwarsa...' he shook his head sheepishly 'I meant... I was at Parnagarh for the past few weeks... and you wouldn't believe all that has happened...'

'Parnagarh?' Maybe, he'd just found the perfect cure for his hangover 'Go on...'

Parnagarh

Rear gardens...

Tilting towards one side of the armrest, she rested her chin upon her palm and slowly flipped another page of a book - a book she'd already read thrice. The afternoon was quiet. For at least another hour or two, it seemed like there was nothing else to do.

The water-well disputes amongst the villagers had been settled for today.The patients at the sick house had been paid a visit. The accounts had been tallied, the kitchen meals planned and domestic duties supervised.

Come to think of it, there were no worries to keep her preoccupied this noon, were there?

Heera was afraid to admit it, but maybe life was returning to relative normalcy.

'Really?' she put down the lens beside her, since she was able to manage without its help.

Was is true? Was life returning to somewhat normalcy?

Had she been asked the same question seven nights ago, her answer would have been a definitive 'No'.

Especially when she stood as that crushed young bride, on that dark night, facing the man she'd just married - a man she knew all too well, and yet knew nothing about.

Why, even after he'd sat down to work at the table and suggested that she must go ahead and rest - Heera wasn't sure what to make of any of it - the night, their wedding, or their relationship.

But it was when she awoke next morning to notice his side of the sheets untouched - an unexpected finding - that she breathed her first sigh of relief. She got to spend the night undisturbed. She'd finally been granted some space and privacy after the several exhausting ordeals forced upon her.

Thank God for small mercies!

Of course, she didn't know how HE'd spent the night. And she didn't care.

At least that's what she told herself - although the curious questions did find a way to pop-up in her mind every so often.

'Had he worked away all night?'

'Had he dosed off on a makeshift couch?'

Either way, if he had gone so far as to NOT take his place on the bed beside her, could she dare to hope that he might keep-up the rest of his promises too? That he would not ruin her and her people, just to keep his Shehzaade happy?

Then again, playing with words like 'hope' and 'trust' around Akbar Mahmoud Khan seemed as risky as playing with fire.

For instance, the wedding night was the last time that the two had been together, alone. Neither had he invited her over to his room thereon, nor had he visited her chamber. In fact, apart from a few formal discussions as they crossed paths in the courtyard, or a fleeting adab as they chanced upon each other during meals, they hadn't had a single proper conversation yet.

So, she must have felt reassured that he was keeping out of her way. Yet, a worrying thought plagued her briefly, each night before bedtime.

What if he suddenly changed his mind about the nature of their relationship? Now that he was the Mansabdar, what if he decided that he wanted a son to carry on his legacy, and demanded one from her?

'Oh God!' she put the book down, looking up at the plains beyond.

One thing she had to admit. Over the past week, he HAD handled his private affairs both, stealthily and efficiently. So much so that even Gauri and Mohan banna did not suspect anything untoward about the new Mansabdar.

Why, despite knowing the truth, even SHE had no idea where he went or what he did - whether he stayed in his room or slipped out at night, whether he sent Sayyid to do his dirty work for him or Ibrahim.

She had no idea, and frankly, she was happy for it to stay that way. Because, his 'double' life was something that did not concern her.

What did concern her however, was her own affairs. And so far, it seemed like he did not plan to interfere in her duties either.

At least that was what she had to presume since he sent back, through Ratan kaka, all of Parnagarh's records and account-books, along with a message to her -

'Harka Sahiba,

I am handling far too many responsibilities already. It would be of great help to me if you could continue supervising Parnagarh's accounts like you have been, all these days. So, I am returning the documents back to you.

Regards,

Akbar Mahmoud Khan'

Heera was in high spirits immediately after she'd read it. He was handing her back her responsibilities in his own canny way, wasn't he?

But the joy was short-lived.

Doubts steadily crept back in. What if it was only an act to create a good impression? What if he took everything back one day?

'God!' Tired of thinking and overthinking it all, she let her gazes be drawn towards the muffled sounds of cheers and claps in the distance. It was the sounds of the horse races coming from the new stables. 'HIS stables.'

Still under construction, the enormous structures had broken what used to be a seamless skyline of greens and blues by occupying one of the best spots of Parnagarh - its barns, sheds and training fields covering an area five times the size of his plot at Aidabad.

Heera wasn't impressed.

But strangely, the Parnagarhis weren't so fazed.

If anything, they were becoming quite intrigued by the sight of these exotic horses - and fascinated by how they raced!

About this time daily, the racehorses were sped against each other, as part of their training. And this was steadily turning into an attraction of sorts. After all, it WAS an expensive kind of entertainment that most had never witnessed before.

The first couple of days, only the Haveli's stable-boys and gardeners stood and watched. Soon, they were joined by the guards and the maids. And since yesterday, villagers - children, men and women too - had started walking up the slopes to add to the audience.

Now, as baisa, she would've objected if the distraction was beginning to affect work. But since it wasn't so, she kept her opinions to herself, while others did whatever it is they wanted to do during the hour.

'Baisa...' Dhani and Bindiya approached her, along with a group of maids 'you're in the gardens... all by yourself... why don't you come along with us... to watch the races?'

Heera raised a brow quizzically 'You ladies are going too?'

'Well it is a pleasant day...'

'And there's still two hours for the evening lamps to be lit...'

'So... Gauri let us go'

'Please come along baisa... it would be fun'

'Oh no no... you ladies go ahead...' she returned to her book 'I am not too interested'

'Not interested?' Dhani moaned 'But baisa you used to travel with Durga baisa for days on end... to horse fairs... to watch such races... and now that you have some rare breeds in your own backyard, you claim you're not interested!'

'I... I...' Heera found herself struggling to cook up a response to that query 'actually, I would like to finish this book...'

'But baisa...' Bindiya enthusiastically knelt by her feet 'we were hoping you would accompany us... you have always been so good at guessing the winning racehorse. And I was hoping to take your help for a bet...'

'Bet?' The otherwise flat look in her eyes instantly perked up, as Heera abandoned the comfort of her backrest 'You ladies have started BETTING on these racehorses?'

Crinkling her nose, Bindiya shifted her sheepish glances from one lady to another 'It's fun... nothing serious... we wouldn't do it often...' she held her mistress' palm 'so please... please... come with us'

When she received no response several plea-filled moments later, her eyelids lowered with dejection 'you used to be such fun, baisa'

'Bindiya!' the ladies gasped 'Don't speak that way...'

'I... I'm sorry, baisa...' Bindiya slowly stood up 'I didn't mean to sound rude...'

Heera sighed 'That's alright... you may go'

She watched in silence as the ladies subsequently saluted her and then began making their way out of the rear gardens, for the training grounds.

'You used to be such fun, baisa'

A startling remark. But it was true, wasn't it? She had stopped being fun, hadn't she? Her mind was perennially worried of late - worried if there was something to fret about, worried if there was nothing to fret about.

Strange! Even when she'd fled from Parnagarh with no sister, no home and no hope, she used to be able to smile. At least for the sake of her people. Why was it so much more difficult to do the same now?

'Bindiya...' she called out, when they were still within earshot 'what is the commission I will be given... for predicting one winning horse correctly?'

The young maid stopped in her tracks.

'Baisa?' she spun around elatedly 'Commission? ANYTHING you ask for!'

Training grounds...

'What's happening there?'

Ibrahim indicated towards the ruffle amongst the gathering crowds at the opposite end - the part of the training grounds closest to the Haveli.

Having just finished grooming a horse, Akbar flung the saddle upon it and cast a half-glance over his shoulder to check out the source of the commotion.

But within the next beat, he was compelled to pause everything he was doing.

'Begum Sahiba?' The grim lines on his forehead - the sign of a hectic afternoon - steadily eased out. 'She's here? As part of the audience?' he smirked mildly, in disbelief 'To watch the entertainment?'

Was it idle curiosity that'd led her here? Or was it something else? Either way, her presence here was nothing short of a miracle!

Over the past week, far from having had a personal chat, they'd barely even exchanged niceties. In fact, the last instance he saw her from close quarters was 7 mornings ago - during that dawnbreak, when he decided to stop by his bed, once, before leaving the chamber.

She was fast asleep, cocooned within his sheets, blissfully unaware of the world around her, blissfully oblivious to him watching her. And as he observed his bride's restful form, his sleep-deprived eyes had briefly lit up, his firm jawline softening into the slightest smile at the sight of her drowsy features. That intoxicating picture was still fresh in his mind like it was from a moment ago, the memory tucked away in the safest corner of his heart forever.

But after that, there was nothing. No conversations. No cordialities exchanged. And she seemed happy for things to remain that way.

Which is why, to see her casually stroll by to his workplace, today, was almost startling.

Nevertheless, whatever it was that'd brought his Begum Sahiba here, her presence was a respite from the routine scenes of horses and hooves that he'd been dealing with - a pleasant respite, in more ways than one!

Lifting his palm up to his temple, the young man greeted the lady across the field, thus bringing the clamour around him to a genteel standstill.

'Adab...'

From where Heera stood, she could not read his expressions. But she did not need to read them to know what he must thinking. In fact, she could guess the myriad of questions that would be playing in his mind ever since he must've seen her arrive.

And she would be lying if she said the thought did not make her uncomfortable.

'Baisa...' whispered Bindiya 'Khan Sahib offered you an adab...'

'Thank you Bindiya... but, it's alright... I know... I... I can see quite clearly today...'

Having snapped out of her brief stupor, Heera reverted back to the young man across the field, reciprocating his gesture with a nod. 'Thank you...'

Akbar then returned his attention to the stallion he was tending to, and handed its reins over to a stable-boy, to get the races started off.

As the horses were allowed to run around, warming-up for the trial races, Heera's eyes were swiftly drawn towards one particularly magnificent specimen. Its skin a snowy-white, the beast dominated every other horse in both, style and speed. There was another charming stallion too - a chestnut brown. Others were good too, but these two in particular, could apparently outrun even the likes of Bahadur.

'That snowy white... and that chestnut brown...' she murmured, leaning over the boundary for a better glimpse 'those two are Arabian racehorses... aren't they?'

'I... I... am not sure, baisa...'

'I... I think so...'

'Yes baisa...'

Two ladies approached her from a crowd standing close by

'They both are purebred Arabian racehorses...'

Heera spared a quick glance at the fresh faces who'd just joined her.

'We... we didn't mean to be intrusive, baisa...'

'We overheard you asking... so...'

'It's alright...' she nodded 'go on...'

'Baisa... they're being trained for the races in the upcoming horse fair... they'll fetch us a handsome price there...'

'Khan Sahib is confident they'll win...'

'Really?' the young lady frowned as she decided to turn around and study them closely this time.

Two maids. Both young. Both pretty. And both faces not-so-familiar. 'And you know all this because...'

The pair exchanged a few abashed smiles 'We are newly-appointed stable-maids for the Haveli's barns...'

'I see...' she nodded slowly - still unable to decide if she found it odd or impressive that this duo had supposedly picked up so much about horses, races and the entire business in under a week.

Nevertheless, Heera wasn't going to allow herself to feel 'small' for knowing so little about her husband's business. It was, after all, a calculated decision to stay away from anything concerning him.

Moreover, she was here only to keep her close maids company. That too, only for one race.

'Alright thank you...' she nodded, and turned ahead again, since the trial races were about to start.

First race...

The chestnut brown, Bahadur and three other horses had lined-up behind the start-line, side-by-side. The referee stood beside them with his flag, and the time-keepers stood at the finish-line with their markers. Once the riders had assumed their positions, Akbar took up his designated spot - a place that offered him the best possible view of the circular race tracks.

Silence fell over the noisy crowd like a curtain.

Then, the referee waved the flag.

Off the riders went, charging as fast as they could to complete three laps around the tracks - thunderous cheers and roars from the audience urging them to reach heady speeds as they did so.

'Baisa...' Bindiya tapped Heera's hand in a frenzy 'tell me... which one should I bet for?'

Heera smiled. This was an easy choice 'The chestnut brown'

Sure enough, three rounds around the racetrack later, the chestnut brown was declared the winner. Bahadur came in third.

The riders subsequently dismounted, and the horses were given a few moments to catch up on their breath, before they were directed towards the start line, one by one.

But just as Bahadur was being led away, it stopped - not letting its rider escort it back. It'd spotted her in the crowd - standing with what looked like a pleasant smile on her face after so long. Then, how could it return without claiming a few pats from its favourite Hakim Sahiba?

Forcing its rider to come along, Bahadur trotted gently towards her, bringing along with it, stares from nearly half the audience. Most notably, the curious stares of its master.

Embarrassed by the sudden attention, Heera hoped to end the encounter quickly. She did not want to indulge the pet since she did not want this bringing back memories of Aidabad. Nor did she want to be giving its master hope by giving out the wrong kind of signals. So, she offered the animal a quick nod and a rushed pat.

But such half-hearted gestures would not suffice for a horse that was used to better. So, it stubbornly stayed put, continuing to bob its head in front of the lady, till she had no choice but to glance into its long familiar eyes.

And not surprisingly, when Heera did so, her genteel heart began melting. How could she punish an innocent animal for the mistakes of its master?

'You ran very well... I'm proud of you' she relented, patting its head with earnest affection, trying not to think of the fact that HE was observing her closely. 'Go on now... everyone's waiting...'

Very pleased that it'd achieved what it had set out to achieve, Bahadur turned around and trotted back to the start-line with its head held high.

Watching his pet return to him, Akbar's brows knit into an arch. No, it was not Bahadur's antics that amused him. That was expected. What amused him was the Sahiba's antics.

She was uncomfortable by the very thought of being watched by him. Yet, she seemed to want to linger around as a spectator at his races, where it was obvious she'd be a distraction to him. She had to even think twice before holding his pet - an animal she truly loved. Yet, she seemed to have no qualms enjoying the entertainment his racehorses provided. And if he wasn't mistaken - even betting on the winners while doing so!

'Interesting!' He definitely wanted to see where this was going to go.

Second race...

The instant the flag was waved; snowy-white, chestnut brown and three other horses blitzed ahead like a storm - their hooves kicking back Earth and grass in their frenzied bids to prove themselves to the onlookers.

'Baisa... the white one or the brown one? The Chestnut brown won yesterday!'

'But today... the white one's in best form!'Heera corrected Bindiya, her intent gazes laced with awe as 'snowy-white's' angular legs stylishly gained momentum. In fact, she soon decided that the manner in which it sprinted resembled 'art' instead of sport. And the inherent beauty of the spectacle reminded her why she and her jiji used to love this sport in the first place. 'Snowy-white...' she mumbled, forgetting the fact that she was supposed to be here only for ONE trial race 'the way it moves is...'

'You know baisa...' the two stable-maids quickly hushed a chuckle ''snowy-white' has a name'

'Oh really?' she asked without taking her eyes off the race - her tone incidentally turning a little guarded. 'And what would that be?'

'Sufi'

'Sufi?' An unusual name for a horse! Quite melodious. Heera liked it.

'Khan Sahib chose that name...' they added

'When that horse moves, it's no less than poetry - that's what he tells his men!'

'Poetry?' She didn't glimpse at their faces rightaway. But Heera was quite sure that it was the second time she'd heard a musical note in their voices when they spoke so fondly about the Mansabdar and his personal choices.

A musical note that was somehow beginning to put her off!

Soon thereafter, a voracious roar of claps marked the end of the second race. The competition was nearly neck and neck, but Sufi emerged as the victor.

'Thank you baisa... thank you' Bindiya squealed in delight 'I won three extra sweets at dinner for having won this bet... and all those who chose the brown horse, have lost their share of sweets for tonight!'

'Actually...' Heera leaned close 'don't forget that one of those sweets belongs to me...'

'Oh yes...' Bindiya abashedly bit her lips, sending her mistress into a spurt of hush giggles.

Taking over the reins, Akbar patted Sufi with fond authority 'You beat your past record... you've become a star...'

Tugging at the ropes he brought its ears close, a prankish streak of jealousy echoing in his whispers 'I can see that even SHE's beginning to get attracted towards you... they're rejoicing that you won... which means she placed her bets on you...now...' he paused 'do you think she'd bet on you, if I was the rider?'

Third race...

'I can see the line-up...'

'The brown horse is racing...'

'Bahadur too...'

'And Sufi as well...'

'This is going to be an interesting match!'

'Baisa... who are you going to bet on, this time?'

Heera mulled 'I predict Sufi will win this round too...'

'But baisa... looks like there's going to be a change in the line-up'

Abandoning their conversation, the ladies hurriedly peeped forward.

Sufi's rider had dismounted and stood aside - clearly making way for another rider.

The next instant, Akbar removed his turban and shrugged the overcoat off his shoulders - handing them both to the rider. Slipping out of his flats, he strapped on the riding boots that Azeez had brought him. Two tall strides later, he'd joined the rest of his competitors, grabbed the reigns and vaulted onto the saddle in one deft leap.

'Oh my God... Khan Sahib's going to race?' the ladies exclaimed.

But Heera said nothing, for her breath was still caught in her throat 'He doesn't usually participate in these races, does he? Does that mean he's racing because I'm here?' she heaved anxiously 'He's realised that we've been placing bets, hasn't he? Is he challenging me, in some way?'

'Bindiya...' she turned to her maid 'change your bet...'

'What!'

'Listen to me...'

'But why, baisa?'

'I predict Bahadur will be the winner...'

'BAHADUR?' everyone erupted into a chorus of confused murmurs 'No!'

'Baisa...' The stable-maids shook their heads 'Now that Khan Sahib's the rider, I'm sure Sufi will win this round too!'

'I've seen him ride Sufi once... it's nothing short of marvellous... I would stick with Sufi, if I were you...'

Her thoughts interrupted by the stable-maids' unsolicited opinions, Heera darted them a not-too-modest frown, before announcing her choice again 'Trust me Bindiya... it's Bahadur... I've done my calculations...'

'Alright...' Nodding half-heartedly, the young maid dragged her feet off to place an unwilling bet on Bahadur - half certain she was going to lose all the sweets she'd won so far!

But Heera knew what she was doing. This wasn't an impulsive decision made against the Sahib and his band of merry supporters. It was a well-calculated move.

Sufi had already been racing for a while. It wouldn't be able to run as fast, carrying the Mansabdar - a man much bigger than its usual rider. But that was not all. Bahadur was too attached to its Sahib - and would most probably run this race faster than ever to impress him.

Yet, as Heera went through her points and reassured herself that she was right in betting against Sufi, tension started coursing through her veins, adding an edge to the entire event. As if this was an actual game and not a trial match. As if she was betting in real life against a competitor. And as if her pride and reputation depended on winning this bet.

'I feel silly... had I known it would come to this... with him opting to race... I would've never stayed back...' she told herself, fidgeting with a finger ring. However, even as she did so, she realised her pulse had quickened in ways that weren't entirely unpleasant - showing her that she was lying to herself, that she actually liked the thrill of the races and that she actually liked being here.

Akbar took his stance, positioning his boots on the stirrup - mirroring the posture that the other riders had already taken. He rarely ever raced on the tracks. Even rarer were the instances when he'd raced in front of a crowd. And never had he raced in her presence before. So, every vein in his body was pounding with excitement as he crouched forward - blocking out all other sounds in the arena. With restless fingers, he grabbed the reins, raring to go.

No sooner than the flag was whipped across, they flew forth - Sufi's strong legs carrying him in the air. The next moment they had touched Earth. Another moment later, they were back in the air - taking long strides with each massive gallop.

He did not know whom she had bet for. He was not certain if she would win today. But, he would not lose.

'Bahadur... Bahadur... Bahadur...'

The ladies yelled, showing their support for their baisa's choice. Amongst the chorus of chants around and the clamour of horses in front, Heera managed to keep her attention fixed upon Bahadur and Bahadur alone. At first.

But by the time the racers cruised past her at end of round one, her treacherous gazes had betrayed her twice and slipped - towards the rider riding next to Bahadur. Gauging her 'opponent'.

He was fast as light. But ironically, the longer she looked, the more the world around him appeared to slow down to a stop. As he rode, the wind threw his hair back freely - a striking contrast from his dead-set features. His razor-sharp glares were focussed on nothing but the course ahead, while his broad shoulders moved perfectly in sync with the muscles of his horse. Never before had she observed him riding. So, never before had she seen such a sight - such a handsome sight.

'Look away...' an inner voice hissed near her ears at least thrice, before Heera pulled her eyes off him.

'Baisa... Bahadur IS leading now... you were right...'

Realising that she'd briefly lost sight of the horse that she was meant to be supporting, she swiftly diverted her glance back to it.

'Yes...' her skin immediately prickled with excitement seeing how her calculations were paying off 'go on Bahadur!'

'Bahadur... you're really giving this race everything, aren't you?' scoffed Akbar, biting down upon a sportive smile as he watched how his pet had slowly inched past and somehow managed to keep ahead for most of round one. It wasn't entirely surprising though. Bahadur was a competitive horse and the cheers from the crowds were driving him into a frenzy. Besides, it was probably getting a tad bit jealous too, wanting to prove to its master that it was no less than Sufi.

Nevertheless, Akbar didn't let himself get worked up as he lost the first round to Bahadur. For he knew that it would not be able to lead for much longer - its legs were not accustomed to such dizzying speeds. Another breath or two and it would be forced to slow down.

Worryingly, that did not happen.

It continued to leap ahead like it its life depended on it, showing no signs of easing down. And by the time round two was midway, Akbar was forced to swap the sportive smile for a grim scowl.

Briefly letting go of the reins, the young man placed a palm firmly against his chest - to measure its pace against his own heartbeats.

'Lord!' He immediately gasped - it was galloping way faster than anything it was used to. His concerned glares swiftly alternated between the tracks ahead and Bahadur - its legs were angling too far, buckling under the strain. If it didn't slow down rightaway, it could end up permanently damaging its muscles.

Akbar tried alerting its rider but it soon became obvious that Bahadur wasn't going to heed the rider's instructions either.

No. This had gone on for many moments longer than it must.

So, he tugged back at Sufi's reigns slowly-yet-firmly to decrease speed - hoping Bahadur would get the message and slow down too.

Alas. No luck.

Left with no other go but to stop Bahadur himself, the young man took a quick decision and kicked his boots hard - sending Sufi bolting ahead once more. Waiting till he'd picked up pace and joined his pet, Akbar left the reigns mid-race and leaned perilously to one side, till he was close enough.

~Whistle~

He whistled a low tune - a tune that was generally reserved for Bahadur. 'It's alright my boy... I'm proud of you... you've done very well...'

Finally! The message worked like a charm. Much to his relief, Bahadur steadily fell behind to its normal pace, letting Sufi go ahead and complete round 3 as the undisputed winner.

'Nooo...' The ladies whined 'Bahadur was about to win!'

'Why did Khan Sahib force it to slow down?'

'I lost all the sweets that I'd won...'

Heera was quiet- her heart still recovering from the thrill of having come so close to winning the bet. 'Why?' She wondered, partly-annoyed partly-disappointed 'Why did he do it?'

And she got her answer sometime later when she saw Bahadur being led away by Ibrahim towards the vet.

Her fingers slowly let go of borders that she'd been clutching onto 'Bahadur... its legs...'

All of a sudden, she looked up - distracted by a looming figure.

It was the 'winning' rider, trotting down the racetrack towards her. 'Oh Lord...' The flutters in her stomach that'd barely settled down, were ruffled into a frenzy, all over again 'what could he want? Why is he approaching me?'

Well, he was approaching her because he wanted to unravel her expressions. Because he wanted to know whom his Begum Sahiba had bet for, and if she had won her bet.

And as he brought his horse to a standstill just across from where she stood, he got his answer.

Flicking the reins between his fingers like it was a game of some sort, he stared straight at her, ignoring the many pairs of eyes watching them.

'So...' he frowned slyly 'you bet for Bahadur, did you?'

Arrested in her tracks by his frown, she armed herself by reading his eyes, to understand the intentions behind that sly question. And she soon realised it wasn't a mere question - there was a hint of 'challenge' in it too, tempting her to defy him.

Eventually, her ego took the bait, and she decided to reciprocate in kind.

'Yes... I bet on Bahadur...' she came back with an equally sly frown taking Akbar by surprise 'and from what I just saw, I do not think I was entirely wrong in doing so!'

The skin on his left jaw twitched with cynicism, as he tried not to betray the fact that he was impressed by her calculations 'In all fairness, I won the race, Begum Sahiba!'

'In all fairness, Mansabdar Sahib' she outplayed his cynical response with a sarcastic half-smile 'Bahadur was forced to slow down... so, I didn't lose the bet either'

Akbar did not blink.

There was rebellion in her eyes and yet there was a tinge of awe in them too - as though he was an enemy she could not hate.

He kept the tantalising banter between their gazes going. No, he was not the kind to openly indulge in mischief. But since it was his Begum Sahiba who'd started the games by betting against him, he decided to make an exception and play along for this one long moment - a moment that'd made the entire exercise worthwhile.

Until she realised what was happening and broke free from his trap with a sigh.

'Adab...' he finally conceded with his eyes before turning Sufi around and riding away.

'God!'

Her fingers crawled up to her cheeks - they were warm. 'What have I been doing? '

And why? Was it because her mind was still reeling from an unusually-exciting noon of sport? Was it the after-effects of having witnessed him ride? Or, was it her ego behaving reckless?

Whatever it was, she shouldn't have let herself get sucked in.

Embarrassed, she peeked around. Thankfully, her maids were too busy gossiping and chatting to have noticed anything.

Well, all of them except the stable maids of course - whose sights were still fixed upon the retreating profile of Sufi. And, in particular, upon Sufi's rider.

'You both may stop staring now...'

Taken completely by surprise by the caution in their mistress' low tone, the two errant maids turned around to face her

'Wh...'

'Baisa...'

'What did you both presume?' Heera smirked 'That because I cannot see from the corner of my eye, I would not know what you both have been up to?'

'Wh... what...what are you trying to say?'

'Baisa... you're mistaken...'

'As a lady, I can read the thoughts and temptations in your mind... I understand, it's natural... but, what I will not care to understand is your lack of discipline...'

'But... baisa... we've done nothing...'

'You're misunderstanding our sentiments...'

No, Heera was not buying this charade of innocence.

Between maid and master, there should be respect. There could be admiration. But this was obviously something beyond, and inappropriate.

'I give you one last chance... please clean up your act, because it's not respectful... and I will not have anyone disrespectful working for me... be glad I'm not reporting you to Gauri... or she would've had you removed from work today...'

Realising it was futile to argue anymore, they hung their heads in shame

'We apologise baisa...'

'We're sorry we hurt you...'

'Alright...' she exhaled to counter some of that pent-up irritation 'you may leave now...'

The heiress watched as the two maids walk away with teary eyes, left wondering if she'd gotten carried away again. Yes, they were behaving silly - but she knew that she'd snapped too. What'd irked her? Was it just the disrespect, or was it something else?

'Shouldn't have come here in the first place!'

The unexpected ruffles and thrills that'd kept her afloat for the past hour steadily started slipping down. And after the high, came the low 'You just chided your maids for their lack of self-control... what about you, Harka Bai? Haven't you been letting yourself get carried away too? Where is your self-control then?'

Her mind was a mess again, her sentiments back to where they were before she'd arrived here 'You know who he is... you've experienced a crushing heartbreak once... then... why do this to yourself, over and over?'

Perturbed, Heera started making her slow way back to the haveli.

'Harka baisa... Harka baisa... Harka baisa... Khan Sahib... I bring a message for you...'

Dragging her feet to a stop, she turned around to observe who the caller was.

A young chap was making his hurried way up the hillock, swerving and skidding around the pathways in a rush - tightly holding onto a rolled-up scroll in is hand.

'A message...' he stuttered, completely out of breath 'message for you... some men... sent it...through... through a traveller... some merchants... the miners... are coming...'

'Ma Bhavani...' Heera hurriedly received the scroll, afraid of what she would find when she'd open it.

Just as she was about to unfurl it though, her fingers stalled. SHE wasn't meant to open it. She was supposed to hand it over to HIM, the Mansabdar.

Her glimpse fell upon on the ground in front - her shadow had come under the shade of a large familiar shadow emerging from behind. And the larger shadow continued closing-in on her, till both shadows had overlapped into one silhouette.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw the man standing behind her, her eyes rife with worry.

Holding his hand out, Akbar blinked once 'Don't worry... let me handle it...'

The young lady gave him the scroll, fervently praying that he would do, as he promised.

Manswar

'I cannot believe this... forget abandoning Harka Bai for having married a Mughal man... they have actually welcomed a Muslim Mansabdar like he was part of their own family!' The Senapati slapped his palm on the desk 'This is atrocious! How desperate have they become?'

'Atrocious? Not quite! Desperate? Maybe...' Tejraj murmured, as if pondering under his breath 'well... he DID save them from Khalil... and he seems to have given them hope when they had none, by cutting a deal with the Shehzaade... at this point they must be counting their blessings! So, I guess they've just learnt to grin and bear the new changes in their lives!' He pensively stared ahead, into oblivion 'Makes them opportunists... like us... we befriended Khalil too... when we needed something done...' he shrugged 'of course... that story didn't go as planned!'

'Keep passing such remarks... and be assured, Tejraj... you, your two wives and your children will be homeless again...' Mahendar then rolled his stares towards his commander with disdain 'and Senapati, you haven't understood the vital point either! While the whole inter-religious wedding... the inter-mixing of these people is disgusting, that is NOT what bothers me anymore... what surprises me, is that a businessman and his group of assistants managed to defeat Khalil... KHALIL!' he re-emphasised just in case the men had forgotten the obvious 'This is a general, who intimidates seasoned warriors! How did a mere businessman go about defeating him?'

'But didn't your soldier mention that these businessmen were part of an army... before they ventured out as horse merchants?'

'Oh really? Part of an army?' smirked Mahendar 'So... if all of these men were such efficient warriors... why would the Shehzaade let them go? Why would he give them permission to leave his army? The Shehzaade is a war-monger, remember?'

'Well...' the Senapati scratched his hairline, trying to think of an answer to satisfy his prince 'the soldier did say that this Akbar Mahmoud Khan... was a close friend of the Shehzaade's... maybe he bribed his way out of the army!'

'Bribe?' The young prince was not convinced - from what he'd heard over the years, he did not think the Shehzaade was the kind of man, who could be bought by money or bribes.

No. There was something else to this story - a missing link that he did not know about. And the more he thought about the missing link, the more it was beginning to gnaw at his peace - like an itch that HAD to be scratched.

'If this Akbar Mahmoud Khan was so madly in love with Harka Bai, why did he not come forward in Bansi to stop the betrothal?' He fell back upon his armrest 'And how did he manage to arrive just in time to stop Khalil? Is he an old enemy of Khalil's?'

Following a long spell of speculation that seemed to bring about nothing too conclusive, the Senapati pulled out a chair and took a seat beside his master 'Kunwarsa... if I may suggest something...' he cleared his throat 'you have an efficient network of spies... why don't you instruct them to make further enquiries... to find out about this Akbar Khan's family... about his men... about his past... about his business...'

Mahendar tapped his fingers on the table 'that would take too long, Senapati... many months...'

'So, what do you plan to do, then?'

'My plan...' the Rajput prince paused, aware of what was to come 'is to renew my association with Khalil...'

'WHAT!'

'Khalil?'

'Well... it would be the quickest way to find out if he knows something I don't and if I know something he doesn't...'

'But, would that be wise, Kunwarsa?'

'I think so... of course, I'll have to wait a few weeks first... for that brute to finish nursing his wounds and mending his hurt pride!'

'After everything that's happened, Mahendar... you're going to befriend that murderer just because it'll suit your purpose?' the cousin swallowed back a scoff 'Opportunist!'

'Tejraj!' the prince rose vehemently from his chair 'DON'T take me for a fool! My plan is to ACT like I'm extending a hand of friendship... not to actually make that monster my friend...' he paused to let his temper simmer 'I want to know if he has information I would be interested in, that's all... and now that both - Khalil and I - have a common enemy, who has somehow whisked Parnagarh off both our hands, we might have some interesting stories to share, don't you think?'

'2 by...' he looked up at the boy at the opposite end 'hold up the measuring rope properly!'

'Yes banna...'

'2 x 4... no...' he stared at his second assistant - a boy of barely 8 'write 2 x 4.25'!'

'Yes banna... 2 x 4.25'

'Baisa...' his pitch promptly mellowed into a low murmur 'my workers will embroider the most beautiful silk for the cushions... but, what sort of feet would you like on this armchair? Rosewood? Teak? Mahogany? Silver-veneer? Gold-gild? Any material you wish for... will be yours!'

'Plain rosewood would do banna' smiling calmly, she indicated towards two other armchairs in the room 'like those over there'

'Oh alright...' the woodworker laughed awkwardly 'plain rosewood... note it down boy'

Having barked instructions to his assistant, he then reverted back to the heiress 'baisa, that's three pieces of furniture so far... didn't you say you wanted a couple of trunks too?'

'Yes... please come along with us...'

Once at the library, Ratan kaka guided him to a stack of old storage trunks 'We need them made similar to these... for putting away important records and documents...'

The woodworker scrunched his experienced eyes, as if deep in thought 'In teak?'

Heera approved with a nod 'That would be the best choice...'

He unfurled his measuring rope 'Parnagarh has become busy... new people... new businesses...'

'Yes banna...'

'You'd need plenty more trunks to store away those old documents, wouldn't you?'

'Just two more...'

'TWO would do?' Arching over, the wood-worker started taking his next set of measurements, jabbering away relentlessly as he did so.

So much so that by one point, part of the lady's attention had inadvertently drifted off, towards sounds echoing from the adjacent private hall - sounds of men chattering loudly.

'Alright baisa...' a short while later, the man rolled up his measuring rope 'the measurements for the trunks have been taken... now... if I heard correctly, you said you needed a cabinet too... am I right?'

'Yes... we'll show you the chamber...'

'It's upstairs...'

Heera and Ratan kaka led the party of three across the courtyard, towards the stairs which would take them to the first floor.

'What's going on?' she wondered again, as they passed by the private hall. It'd been nearly two hours since the mining-merchants had been ushered inside, but the meeting was showing no signs of coming to a close.

And the Mansabdar wasn't known to be a particularly talkative man either...

'God save us' she tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

It was the fourth group of mining-merchants that he'd met with this week. But, the young lady had no idea what was going on. With her monthly cycle arriving four days ago, she'd had to unfortunately remain secluded in her room, away from the public eye, for most of this week. So, she had received very little update on what conversations had been taking place or what deals were being made concerning her lands.

'No...' Heera quickly closed her eyes 'not my lands... his lands!'

Still, it did feel unsettling to be kept in the dark.

Maybe she could ask him to update her on the developments, later on, this evening?

Opening her eyelids, she joined the rest of her party up the stairs.

At the top, following a sharp turn to the left, they soon entered the corner chamber on the first floor.

'So you say you want a nice large cabinet made?'

'A large strong one...' added Ratan kaka

'Worry not kakasa... our family have been the designated cabinet-makers of this haveli for generations...' he plonked down his heavy bag of tools 'I'll use the best wood possible... list your wishes and I'll make it happen... I can polish its doors so shiny that you'd see your own reflection in it! Or, I can engrave them with such intricate designs... our... traditional... Rajput...' his words stalled 'Rajput motifs... where...'

His wary glance fell upon the sight of a couple of unfamiliar items dotted around the room. Specifically upon the sight of the Holy Quran, the Quran stand and the prayer rug.

His upper lip curled in disdain - so this was the Mansabdar's room?

'Tell me...' he made little effort to hide the waning enthusiasm in his tone 'what sort of cabinet do you need?'

Ratan kaka scratched his grey hairline trying to recall the specific instructions he'd received 'Khan Sahib mentioned that he needed a cabinet with five or six shelves... and with doors that could be locked...'

'Oh...' a disinterested sigh slipped out of his mouth 'I'll make one... of Sheesham...' he turned around, and began walking out, just like that. Neither was he going to waste precious time taking careful measurements, nor use up expensive wood to make a cupboard that was meant to decorate a Mughal man's room. Sheesham would do!

'Sheesham?'

Drawn out of the thoughts that'd kept her preoccupied for so long, Heera looked up at the carpenter who was almost on his way out. Common wood? Wonder what happened to all that fancy woodwork and shiny doors he'd been promising them so far! 'Not Mahogany? Or rosewood?'

'I cannot make promises, baisa...' his eyes elusively crossed paths with the heiress', before shifting back to the entrance 'it's a huge cupboard... I might not be able to obtain such large amounts of rosewood or mahogany'

'Oh I see...' Heera nodded slowly. So, their cabinet-maker was about to short-change the owner of the haveli simply because he was a Muslim. Granted, the Sahib hadn't demanded a fancy cabinet. But that didn't make this fair, did it? Whatever her personal equation with him, as a mansabdar, so far, he had been good-enough to the people in and around this town. Such intolerance from them was not justified.

And while it certainly wasn't plausible to go around changing everyone's attitudes, it wouldn't be right to let 'prejudice' prevail over 'politeness' under her roof.

'I'm sorry banna... but I don't think I can make promises either' she shook her head, using precisely his words and tone upon him 'I'm not sure I can place this order for the chairs... the trunks and the rest of the furniture'

'Wh... wh... what...' the wood-worker spun around, startled 'but baisa...'

'Well... I admit... as baisa, I supervise the purchases... and make the decisions... but as the Mansabdar, HE has to sign them off...' the lady hushed her voice, as if she didn't want others hearing this 'it'd be a bit awkward explaining to him that our carpenter could find excellent wood for all rooms, except his!'

She let a soft grin lessen the sting in her response 'I understand your predicament, banna... I hope you'll understand mine...'

'B... but... baisa I...'

'Ratan kakasa...' Heera shifted her attention to the manager 'banna here... is one of the best wood-workers in all of Rajputana... but, in this instance... unfortunately, we'd have to search for someone else...'

'No... no...' His face lost a few shades of colour. After all, this was one of their best customers - maybe his revulsion against the Mughals was coming at too high a price! 'Baisa... actually...'

'You see... I wouldn't want to be embarrassed in front of the new Mansabdar...'

A clumsy pause later, the woodworker dropped the bag he'd just picked 'Embarrass? Hukum Jagat Prasad Singh's daughter? No... no... no... I wouldn't even dream of letting such a thing happen!' he swiftly flipped open his measuring rope with gusto 'I will try and find good quality rosewood for this cabinet... like I'd promised you... we will, wouldn't we boys?'

'Yes banna...'

'Yes banna...'

'You will?' she raised her brow quite charmingly 'That is very kind of you indeed'

'You'll find the best quality furniture adorning your rooms within two months' time... that's a promise!'

'Thank you...' Heera smiled to herself, aware that her work here was done for then.

'One responsibility tackled... several more to go today...' her mind whirred, once outside the Mansabdar suite, and in the corridors.

She was supposed to meet Vaid kaka later on, to help him with the preparation of a special ointment.

And of course, there was the matter of the Mansabdar's never-ending 'meetings' with the miners that was sure to keep her mind busy for the rest of the day.

'Baisa...'

The wheels that'd been turning in her head came to an abrupt stop 'Bajrang banna?'

'Khamma Ghani baisa...' Catching up on his breath from that dash up the stairs, he hurriedly saluted her 'your presence is required in the private meeting hall... Khan Sahib has called for you...'

'WHAT! I'm required there? Now?' She asked again, wondering if she'd heard right.

'Yes baisa...'

What an uncanny coincidence that HE had called for her precisely when she'd been pondering upon the happenings there!

Heera was almost tempted to ask the guard if he knew what had been going on inside the hall at least to help brace herself.

However, she thought the better of it the very next moment.

So, pulling the veil in front of her face, all the way below her chin, she began making her way down the sweeping marble stairs.

It wasn't customary for a married woman to be summoned in a private hall where men were discussing official matters. And it somehow felt all the more unusual that he had summoned her in the presence of the Shehzaade's business associates - she'd assumed he would just announce his decision to her, later, in private.

It meant this HAD to be very important!

Were the deals done and the decisions regarding Parnagarh's fate made? Was she going to receive bad news? Was she going to be put in a tight spot again? This 'meeting' wasn't going to turn out to be a humiliating experience of sorts, was it? She did not have reason to be afraid, did she?

'Ma Bhavani!'

Drawing in a deep breath, Heera stood at the entrance of the private hall, letting some of those fears settle 'Oh... don't be silly Harka Bai... haven't you met numerous such merchants in the past? Haven't you dealt with them boldly? Yes... times have changed, but you ARE still the same lady, are you not?' She drew in another deep breath since it seemed to be working 'Besides, you've had plenty of experience receiving and dealing with bad news... and you've definitely endured far more in your life than ANY of those businessmen inside would've ever endured... so good news or bad news - take it like a baisa!'

Realising that her eyelids had remained lowered for longer than they must, she held her face up, gazing straight ahead, before stepping in.

The private hall

'Frigid' was the first word that came to mind as soon as she had a taste of the ambience she'd walked into.

Heera only managed a fleeting glance of the visitors - four parties of businessmen comfortably settled in plush armchairs across the airy hall - Mughal men who'd possibly come from different corners of the Empire upon the instructions of the Shehzaade.

But, a fleeting glance was enough to tell her that her presence here was not welcome what with their visible lack of common courtesy when greeting a Lady.

Till her sights fell upon the one occupying the most prominent position in the chamber.

Seated at the centre, with both arms resting upon the armrest, the young man was looking directly at her.

As though he'd been waiting for her.

And as though he was aware her feet had taken a brief pause outside the hall.

So, she looked right back at him, the quiet tremors in her chest quickening for a pulse or two. What an odd time and place for her emotions to behave this way! Then again, perhaps she was merely relieved to see a familiar face amongst a host of not-so-friendly faces.

Just then though, he did something she didn't quite expect.

'Begum Sahiba...' he stood up, to take a casual stroll by his chair 'why are you standing there... please come in... join us...' his head tilted towards the chair beside him 'take a seat here...'

And because the Mansabdar the Shehzaade's right hand man - had stood up, everyone else, however unwelcoming or unfriendly, assumed they were obliged to stand up.

Heera didn't realise when a faint smile had escaped from her lips, but it was a faint smile that she didn't try to hold back. 'Thank you...' she walked past the merchants to occupy the seat beside him, feeling like the Like the Lady of the house again.

'My men... as you might be aware... these lands originally belonged to the Sahiba...' he gestured towards her as part of his speech 'and she would know more about the weather, the townsfolk and the soil here than anyone else would... definitely more than I would...' he shrugged 'so, she should be the one you must ask any questions regarding these matters...'

'Sahiba...' one of the older merchants didn't wait for long 'would the townsmen of Parnagarh be ready to work for us?'

Heera tried not to appear too dazed. 'I would think that some of them would...'

'Sahiba, when we came here, we were under the impression that we would be free to dig where we wanted...'

'But after arriving here, we realise that there are restrictions on where we can and cannot dig...'

'Restrictions?' Did she hear right? Did they say he'd placed restrictions upon them?

What restrictions did he place upon them? And how? Did this mean everyone's fields and homes were going to be safe? A hundred queries surged through her head straightaway. So, she stole a glance at the man through her veil, for answers.

But he was staring ahead.

'Harka Sahiba...' the merchants called her attention back to the meeting since there are already many restrictions... we want additional confirmation from you before we invest our money here...'

'You and your sister... met with a famous explorer years ago, didn't you? Khan Sahib tells us this explorer actually claimed the best source of iron lies beyond the woods on the right... down below... is it true?'

'What?' Heera frowned for a moment. What 'best' iron ores? What woods? Beyond where? Yes, she and jiji had met with an explorer once but, all he'd said was that the entire Parnagarh soil was rich with iron ore. There was no mention of any particular site. Ever!

'What games are you up to, Mansabdar Sahib?' she peeked up at him again seeking a hint, searching for cues. But no, he was deliberately playing it calm - his face as placid as an ocean at midnight.

Was he misleading them slightly? Pushing them to do as he wanted, with this small false fact? A little risky, wasn't it seeing how these merchants were connected to the Shehzaade?

By taking this gamble, not only was HE swimming in rough waters - he'd suddenly dragged HER in too, without any warning whatsoever. No doubt, he needed the 'Sahiba' at this meeting, to back up his little lie. But still, it was brazen of him to have summoned her here now, unprepared! Brazen of him to trust her ability to pick up the hints and play along!

And while Heera was silently hoping she didn't blurt something out, silently hoping that she didn't mess up his carefully-laid plans - he sat next to her with the alarming nonchalance of a seasoned player.

My, this man was a master at such games.

'Yes the explorer did say such a thing...' she broke her spell of silence with a lie and a diplomatic smile 'but just to be clear... that we are talking of the same site, Mansabdar Sahib... perhaps, it's better we take a look at the place together... and show them the site' she turned to him for approval - with the same flair he was using 'am I right?'

Akbar was finally compelled to abandon the company of the visitors he'd been engaging with. That quick-witted comeback, those sly expressions behind her veil - they carried several questions. So many 'Whys' and 'Hows' that he was left quietly amused.

Well, firstly, he hadn't warned her about his plans beforehand because he hadn't had the opportunity to meet her in person for the past three days. Secondly, these plans were mostly spontaneous, not scripted. And thirdly, he was pretty certain that she would understand the situation, pick up the game and play along. After all, a lady who was shrewd enough to twist facts and deliver a speech that convinced half her people to support their 'unusual' wedding was definitely capable of telling a small lie for the sake of a greater good. Besides, for the past four years, she and her sister had dealt with many-a-Marwari businessman in this manner. Tackling a few Muslim merchants was not all that different.

'Yes... why not, Sahiba? Let's go along and show them the site...'

The terraced balcony...

This particular terraced balcony jutting out from the rear wall of the Haveli, offered the most panoramic views of this hilly town. Which was why, this was his first stop - the best spot to show the Sahiba his game-plan - before he would take a hike down to the woods, along with the men, for a closer inspection of the site.

So, the young man tapped his fingers on the railing and waited aside, while the merchants finished making routine enquiries with the Sahiba. Well, he didn't have much to add to these general discussions anyway, nor did he want to get too involved - his exhausting schedules would not allow him to do so in future either.

Of course, he would set everything up in Parnagarh for her and provide support in any way she wanted. But it was essential that she reclaim the responsibilities of an heiress - responsibilities that she'd been admirably handling for so long. Even more so since there was a high possibility he would go away on another upcoming mission in the near future.

'Ai Khuda...' Taking a breather from those stressors for a while, Akbar leaned over the short wall - the wall that overlooked paradise.

'Paradise...'

It was obvious why the people of this sleepy town were so proud of this slice of Heaven on Earth. Having said that though - what resembled paradise, did not feel like 'home' to him. At least, not yet. Not the fault of the place or the people. Merely that after his one true home had been taken away from him as a child, no other place had ever felt like home again. Not the tents at the soldiers' camp. Not even Aidabad.

Nonetheless, even if this wasn't his home, he wanted to save it for those whose home it was. It was beginning to give him a sense of purpose in life. Like how rescuing those abused orphans had given him a purpose in life all these years.

And apart from it being her only haven, there WAS another reason why he did not want to see this place destroyed - it served his own self-interests too. And the reason for this was out there in the distance - a tiny black speck prancing about the fields on all fours. 'Bahadur'

It'd only been a month, but Bahadur seemed to love the change. As did Sufi, and the chestnut brown. As did the greys, the beiges, the dark-reds and every other horse he owned.

His pets. They were thriving here.

'Mansabdar Sahib...' the call was soft, the echoes of her anklets even softer - as she left the merchants to their materialistic discussions and approached him.

'I think I've answered all their questions... now will you please answer one of mine?' Heera took up a spot at the railing not far from him 'I take it there is something you want to show me... isn't that why I was brought here?' she masked her nervousness with a crafty frown 'Where exactly is this particular iron-ore-rich site that the explorer supposedly told me about...'

The young man stealthily indicated towards the large areas of flatlands that lay miles beyond the woods 'There...'

'The flatlands!' she sighed in relief. Just as she'd hoped! There couldn't have been a better solution. The flatlands were discreetly tucked away beyond the woods which would thus keep the toxic pollution, noise, fumes and rubble largely out of their lives. And like the rest of Parnagarh, the soil there was a deep red too - plenty of iron ore to line the pockets of these greedy merchants and fill up the weapons arsenal of the war-hungry Shehzaade.

However, there was still one unanswered doubt.

Intrigued, the young lady drew his attention by lifting her brows once 'How did you manage to convince these miners to stay out of the mainland? What did you say... '

His eyes drifted back to the fields in front, the edge of his lips curving into a repressed grin 'Look carefully Begum Sahiba... and you'll understand...'

She took his advice and looked carefully.

Gently, the wariness and confusion on those features started coming off, bit-by-bit, like a silk veil slowly slipping down her skin. Disbelief followed, maybe a bit of awe too. And finally, what was unmasked was an expression of contentment.

But only Heera knew that it wasn't merely contentment and awe. It was much more whelming than that - feelings that she didn't let appear on her face, emotions that she couldn't quite describe.

'My God!' He HAD created the perfect game-plan, hadn't he? Only, she'd taken so long to realise it.

The humongous stables and barns that she considered an eyesore till yesterday, suddenly appeared quite magnificent. The race tracks and the training grounds that felt so pompously excessive until a day ago, suddenly seemed quite fitting and fine. So, THIS was why he'd occupied a spot right in the centre of Parnagarh. This was why he was using up an area five times the size of his plot in Aidabad.

His racehorses - the royal racehorses were standing in the way between the miners and the rest of Parnagarh!

'Khan Sahib... Sahiba...' her thoughts were interrupted when the merchants walked up to join them

'Fine... we are pleased with the terms and arrangements...'

'We've discussed everything thoroughly...'

'We are happy to sign the documents... after we've visited the site'

'That is excellent news, men...'

'If only...' the older merchant stepped forth to the railing 'if only your fancy racehorses did not require such a large area to run about...' he cackled 'I mean... do animals really need all that space, Khan Sahib?'

'As I've already explained...' Akbar's pitch was steady, giving out the vibes that he wasn't too amused by the quip 'since moving to Parnagarh, I've started dealing with the highest calibre of racehorses... and they demand such luxuries... besides, these beasts have always been the personal favourites of our Huzoor himself... so...' he smirked 'don't you think our Shehzaade deserves this calibre of racehorses?'

'What! Of... of... of c...course he does!'

'In fact, it IS with the blessings of our Shehzaade that my business flourishes here... then how could you suggest that I cut down on the quality I provide him with?'

'Ya Allah!' the merchant desperately tried to cover up his stupid remarks with a sheepish beam 'All I meant was... if your stables were not in the way, we could've gotten further iron for the prince! That would've made him happy...'

Akbar paused. 'You mean it would make YOU very happy!'

Having diverted suspicion by pinning blame back on him, he toyed with the nervous old man for a while, before caving in with a seemingly-friendly grin.

Taking the cue, the three other businessmen burst into loud sniggers in a hurry to bury the awkwardness. Forget offending the Shezaade, they were much too terrified to displease even his friends. The prince and his allies were a dangerous breed of men and it made sense to keep out of their way.

'I... I...' The old man joined them in laughing at himself 'I... I would never suggest such a thing... I want the best for our Huzoor!'

'Then I'll make sure I keep this conversation between us... lest your remarks end up offending our Huzoor...' It didn't sound like a warning. It didn't even sound like a veiled-warning. But it was enough to erase every trace of doubt from their minds once and for all.

'Of course, Khan Sahib!'

'Thank you, Khan Sahib!'

'We'll meet you at the site, Khan Sahib...'

'Khuda Hafiz...'

Offering the Sahiba a nod - one that was noticeably more courteous than what they'd offered her earlier - the merchants began making their way towards the adjacent corridors.

Heera barely reacted, even though she'd heard their conversations, even though she was aware what it was he had been doing. The prickle at the back of her throat meant she wouldn't be able to utter a single word anyway. So, she continued staring at the morning skies through the light tear wetting her eye, warm rays of realisation thawing the sentiments that'd remained cold and bitter for so long.

In truth, she wanted to stare up at the Heavens and scream in relief. But she couldn't do that. So, she merely imagined doing so in her mind, letting it all sink in.

'Thank you Ma Bhavani... thank you jiji...'

This time it didn't stop there. There WAS one other person to thank! Him!

Whatever other personal grievances and grudges she might have against the Ustaad, the lady was now assured of one thing - Akbar Mahmoud Khan intended to keep his word. Yes, he was still a mystery to her. But there was one fact she DID know about this stranger - he would not let any harm come to his horses! And by putting his horses out there, in the middle, he had made it clear to her that he intended not to let any harm come to her people either.

'Thank you... Khan Sahib...'

Akbar stood stock-still, the fingers around his wrist stiffening in near-disbelief, his gaze lingering at the entranceway where he'd just finished showing the visitors back in.

He had been waiting for the merchants to leave, so that he could catch another glimpse of the awe in her eyes, maybe savour the rare site for a moment, before sealing it with an I-told-you-to-trust-me frown.

Instead, she had beaten him to it by catching him totally unaware. He had expected a smile in her eyes. A smile on her lips, he would have been happy with. But, this? 'Khan Sahib'

Not Ustaad Sahib. Not Mansabdar Sahib. But, Khan Sahib. Finally!

A hundred people called him by that name every day. But what a difference it made to hear it from the one person he wanted calling him by that name.

He turned around to his Sahiba.

There was a semblance of a smile on her lips - stoically reflecting a bit of gratitude and nothing more.

'You're welcome' he responded with a pleasant nod, hoping he came across just as stoic. Because, if he allowed the kind of emotions that were filling the empty corners and broken crevices of his chest to show up to his face, his features would be left with a full-fledged smile. And that was something Akbar needed to get used to first - a relatively unfamiliar side of him that still felt surreal.

However, what DID feel real was the happiness. He wasn't sure if she was prepared to forgive him for his betrayal yet. But he was confident that she now recognised he meant well for her and Parnagarh.

And that WAS the first step in the right direction 'Khuda Hafiz'

Later on, that day...

'What's going on?'

Her skin flushed pink with amusement - matching the colour of the floral herbs in her hand.

Perhaps it was because she'd spent the past two hours in the sun, gathering materials from the herbarium for the ointments she was mean to prepare. Or perhaps because it was the first time in a long while that she was facing her people without putting up a 'facade' of positivity.

Either way, the effects showed up on her cheeks, as she witnessed the funny scenes of chaos - maids, guards and residents flocking outside the kitchen like birds around a seed-tray. 'Seems like Maharaj kakasa has promised everyone something special!'

Heera approached the gathering - greeted by a wide range of smiles 'What's going on?'

'Baisa... we're overjoyed...'

'We learned that the miners have been restricted to the other side of the valleys...'

'Our lands will be safe...'

'We thank you both for what you've done for us!'

'You're welcome...'

Just then, her eyes widened. She'd spotted an unexpected face amidst the group 'Vaid kakasa?'

'Bitiya...' he stepped away from the crowds and into a quieter spot 'I dropped in to offer you both my personal wishes... and to meet the Mansabdar'

'You dropped in to meet Khan Sahib?' Heera arched her brows playfully 'Strange... I can't seem to locate him anywhere outside the kitchen though...'

'Oh THAT?' Vaid kaka flashed a silly half-smile 'Actually... Maharaj kakasa has offered his signature dry fruit laddus to Ambe Ma... like how he usually does whenever she blesses us with good fortune... so...'

'Oh...' she found it difficult to keep a straight face at this grand old man's unfailing weakness for sweets! 'I understand'

'Anyway...' the old healer wiped his face with a small towel 'where is our jamaisa?'

'Jamaisa?' there was a random pause in her sentence it felt so strange to say the word 'The Mansabdar left with the merchants a few hours ago... I don't think he's meant to return soon'

And as if just to prove her wrong, there was a sudden ruffle at the entrance - after which, Akbar strode in.

'Oh THERE he is!'

'Mansabdar Sahib is here...'

Despite the clamour that immediately followed, Heera didn't turn around. At least not at once. Maybe because she wanted the ruffles of nervousness to settle down first - an annoying phenomenon that invariably happened whenever he was around. Maybe she was still hesitant after their short rendezvous at the terrace earlier and suddenly, now that her mind reflected on it, she was beginning to wonder if she'd gotten carried away in his presence a bit too much too quickly.

Maybe she was a tad bit jealous too. After all, the kind of admiration that used to be reserved only for her was being showered upon him too. And her people were receiving a relative stranger, with a hero's welcome - a stranger whose reality they didn't know.

Nevertheless, she turned around when she could postpone it no longer - since Vaid kaka had already invited the young man over.

'Congratulations Khan Sahib... we are grateful to you for what you've done for us...'

'Thank you...' Akbar's feet came to a short halt beside her 'I did what I must...'

'Which is why I've made YOUR favourite sweet to mark the occasion, Khan Sahib!'

Maharaj kaka finally made his much-awaited entry with a large basket of fresh laddus - tearing his way through the gathering to appear before the man of the hour, with chacha jaan faithfully by his side. 'Dry fruit laddus... take as many as you want, before this lot finish it all up!'

'That's very kind...' the young man reservedly accepted one laddu a signal that both, Vaid kaka and Chacha jaan had eagerly been waiting for, so they could help themselves to it too.

'Thank you...' Akbar finished it up in a four bites 'now, I must be on my way...'

Heera momentarily glanced up at him, the tiny worry-lines between her eyes easing out. Leaving? So soon?

Good!

Here she was, mentally preparing herself to brave a few awkward scenarios what with him holding the very sweet that she'd gifted him at Aidabad as a parting token. Thankfully, she was going to be spared from this round of awkwardness.

Or so she thought.

Till the head-chef made a bold move and interrupted the man 'No... how could we let you leave in such haste?' he peeped around to make sure others agreed 'You are such a busy man, Khan Sahib... and we barely get to see you... since you're here with us... please have one more... leisurely... and tell me how it tastes...'

Akbar was hesitant. But he decided to oblige the cook by picking up a second laddu 'It IS delicious as ever...'

Heera felt compelled to glance up at him again. She could be mistaken, but he sounded rushed, did he not?

Then again - him, HIS thoughts, HIS reasons, HIS business. Why concern herself with all these questions?

'Delicious as ever did you say, Khan Sahib? Then you must have another one...'

'Oh no... Maharaj Sahib... I am fine... really...'

'How could you possibly refuse such a delicacy?' Vaid Kaka licked the crumbs off his thumb.

'He has far greater self-control than us, my son...' Chacha jaan spoke through a stuffed mouthful 'well... the noon is getting quite hot... I plan to rest... you care to join me, Vaid Sahib?'

'But Chacha Sahib... I have great self-control too! Only that when it comes to THIS particular sweet... I find it difficult to hold back...' The old healer shook his head with joyful regret 'thankfully, because of my Heera bitiya... I got to taste them a month ago too!'

'Because of ME?' Heera chuckled faintly 'How?'

Just then, Akbar said something to try and interrupt the conversation.

But Vaid kaka was much too high on the intoxicating effects of the delicacy to notice 'The travellers you'd sent to us, bitiya... THEY had these laddus with them!'

All of a sudden, Chacha jaan slipped a friendly hand around the man's shoulders, to try and lead him away with chummy banter.

But, he didn't manage to go far.

'One moment please, Chacha Sahib'

Heera wasn't going to let what she had overheard slip through the net. Yes, highly possible that Vaid kaka had his facts and faces mixed up, like he did quite often. But she had to at least ask him a little more first. 'What travellers, kakasa?'

'Two travellers through whom you'd sent word bitiya... one and half months ago... to let me know that you reached Bansi safely...'

Heera stopped chuckling.

'Darn!' huffed Akbar under his breath. Both, his and Chacha jaan's tactics had failed to distract the old man. No wonder the very first rule in the spy-book said 'Avoid visiting the same place and people twice, if you do not want to be caught!'

This scenario was EXACTLY what he had been fearing as soon as he'd been pulled into this group. In fact, the thought had struck him ever since he spotted them together. Which is why he wasn't too comfortable about being here from the start.

Nonetheless, the Sahiba had heard what she mustn't. And it would possibly take her less than a blink to decipher the rest of the story - whether he left the scene or not. Naturally, he didn't even want to imagine how displeased she was going to be thereafter. 'Darn!' Just when he thought that they'd secured the first knot in building bridges, everything was going to fall crashing down again.

'Anyhow...' He exhaled, after that short spell of exasperation. This wasn't the end of the world. The story could not have been hidden eternally and the secret wasn't meant be kept from her forever. It would've come out tomorrow, if not today. Better today, than tomorrow. It would've come out in his absence, if not in his presence. Better in his presence than absence, so he could minimise the damage.

'Six weeks ago? Two travellers? With Maharaj kakasa's signature laddus?'

Heera gradually nodded her head as the pieces of the puzzle fell in place, little by little - except one or two unknown bits, of course. 'Ahhh yes... I vaguely remember kakasa... can you describe these two men to me though?'

Her crafty eyes shifted sideways, catching a quiet glimpse of the prime suspect in her mind 'Simply jogging my memory'

'Hmmm... they were traditional Rajputs... both of them... the way they walked, talked, ate and dressed reminded me of my youth... one of them was tall and well-built... his name... errr... Samarth banna, I think... Singh... Samarth Singh' suddenly, for whatever reason, his old eyes stopped upon the Mansabdar's face.

The next instant, he scoffed at himself with a silly frown 'I don't remember too well... they were only here for a day... and the other one... I'm not sure... since they mostly kept to themselves...'

'Samarth banna?' She smiled a two-sided smile - an amiable one meant for Vaid kakasa, and a cunning smirk that only Akbar could see 'Please go on...'

'Err... I recall that they got quite attached to a little boy at the sick house... and yes, they were very helpful... especially the tall man...'

Stifling a yawn that seemed to loom from nowhere, Vaid kaka peeped at the sun 'I must be boring you with these stories...'

'Oh... no... kakasa... this story is far more interesting than anything I've heard lately... please go on...'

'Well... nothing else really... that's how I got to eat Maharaj's laddus when you were away... you know... the taller man... he shared the sweets with everyone... I think I took advantage of his generosity... he didn't save even one of for himself... poor chap!'

'Oh my... how generous!' She ran her eyes over the deceptive features of a man who she realised was still every bit a stranger to her.

Heera could hate him right then, half her mind tempted to burst out into a fit of laughter, and the other half wanting to break down into a volley of tears! No wonder he was in such a rush to be gone ever since he'd arrived. 'How VERY generous of him indeed!'

'Ai Khuda!' His jaw clenched tight - the young man finding it just as awkward to avert her glimpses as it was to meet eyes with her. Why did his truth always come out in the worst possible ways? What a horrible situation to be in standing like a culprit, guilty, with no means to defend himself.

At least not till the men left.

'Alright...' Chacha jaan took the hint and nudged the man again, to stop this conversation from going on forever. The damage had been done - at least, the couple could be spared from further misery 'come on Vaid Sahib... I'm exhausted... let's rest our old bones on the verrandah'

'Excellent idea!' The unsuspecting Vaid kaka finally obliged and the small group dispersed, leaving behind amongst the happy commotion, a pair struggling to deal with a freshly exposed half-truth and their momentary peace disturbed all over again.

'Sahiba' he uttered as soon as he got the first instant alone

'Khamma Ghani...' she responded with a grin, her eyes aglow with simmering anger 'Samarth banna!'

At least one thing she had to give to him - his choice of names was not as unpleasant as his actions 'Sufi' 'Samarth Singh'

'Why did you do it? For the Farmaan? It helped you gain your entry into the Haveli, did it?'

'Yes...'

'Oh...' A painful shudder rattled her, almost making her wish that he had lied if only to keep the peace.

God! It stung. It stung so so badly. What a fool she'd been, until a short while ago, letting herself be swept away by his gestures. In fact, what a fool she'd been every single time that she had let herself be swept away by him secretly packing away sweets assuming he loved them, expectantly arranging a hush meeting presuming he would express his heart's desires. For what? Only to have her feelings and gifts be discarded like worthless scrap.

What an utter utter fool!

'Begum Sahiba... I can explain...'

'Can you?'

And with that cutting remark, she walked away, retreating towards the staircase.

'Please hear me out... for a moment...'

But, she had apparently turned a deaf ear to his appeal.

'Sahiba... it is not like it seems'

However, her alta-tinted feet did not slow down - not even when they unwittingly walked over a few lustreless petals that'd fallen from her hands.

God! This was agony. Sheer sheer agony. He was meant to be her staunchest armour, and yet, it was his own past, his own choices and actions that repeatedly punctured her ailing heart.

If only he could show her how much everything about her meant to him - be it, her gestures or gifts. If only he could close in on her with two long strides, seize her wrists and arrest her within his clasp till she had no other go but to listen to what he had to say.

Understandably though, he would do no such thing - even if there weren't people around. Neither was he THAT kind of man, nor was she the kind of woman to respect a man who did so.

No! He would have to think of something else. But, what?

Gentle explanations weren't working. Being a charmer was not one of his strengths. So, what if he arrived straight at the truth? More importantly, what if he put it across in a way that she couldn't refute?

'Heera...' His whisper came out hoarse as he tried bridging the distance between them from behind

'Wh...' she did NOT want to turn around. However, she couldn't help feel anxious about the thought of him suddenly so close on her heels.

'Maharaj Sahib... bless him... makes these laddus very well...'

'What?' What was he saying? What was he up to? Whatever it was, the lady was in NO mood to find out. Instead, she persevered with her pace - though it was no easy feat to continue ignoring the natural authority in that enviably-manly voice echoing at the back of her neck.

'Keep going... keep walking up...'

'But what I ate today... could not match the quality of the eleven laddus I received in that embroidered silk pouch, Heera'

She gasped. Did she hear right? 'Could not match...the eleven laddus...embroidered silk pouch... Heera'

'No!' She heaved, breaking away from it 'Told you not to listen to him... don't stop!'

'Every single one of them was carefully hand-picked... all of them the exact size... garnished with similar nuts and raisins... you think I wouldn't notice?'

'Carefully hand-picked... exact size... similar nuts and raisins... you think I wouldn't notice?' His words! Had he rehearsed them?

'Snap out of it!' she hastily attempted to escape the effects of his spell. And that was when she realised her feet had slowed down. 'GO ON!' She ordered, quickening her speed up the next two steps to compensate for having fallen behind.

However, soon enough, the sorcery of his words caught up with her again.

'Your anger is justified, Begum Sahiba... I gave them away to achieve my means... that was incredibly self-indulgent of me...' he huskily whispered over her shoulder 'but where I truly became selfish was with the final sweet... Vaid Sahib is mistaken... I did save one... the best one... kept it for when I was hungriest to relish it most... ate it by myself when no one was watching... took my time... didn't share it... didn't even tell Azeez about it, though he had been travelling all along with me... I'm never selfish with food, but this one instance was an exception... that last one was mine and mine alone to enjoy - every... last... crumb... of... it!'

The next moment, he was casually walking past, overtaking her on the stairs - as if this intriguing affair and his hush whispers was a figment of her imagination.

But Heera remained transfixed in her spot, midway, still wondering why she had slowed down to hear him out. Still wondering how she had let his warm phrases trace their way up her shoulder and neck till they had reached her ears. If this was not sorcery, what was?

She wanted to stay angry. She tried. But, she couldn't. She wanted to feel hurt. But, she couldn't. The least she wanted to feel was 'bitter'. And for that, she deliberately recalled how foolish she'd felt until a short while ago. But even that did not seem to work.

Instead, all that she did not want, was happening. She did not want the chills in her spine sending her hair to stand on end. But that wouldn't change even when she rubbed her skin. She didn't want her features turning crimson. But, the heat on her cheeks were so fervent that they weren't going to cool down any time now. She didn't want to smile. But how ever hard she bit the insides of her quivering lips, she could not stop the darned expression from seeping through.

After he reached the top, he glimpsed over his back just once, a look of satisfaction rampant in his eyes.

She had tried very hard not to believe him and failed.

His confession had paid! After all, it had come packaged in very simple words. And it was a truth that could not be refuted - showing her that though he might have had only one of the sweets, he had treasured her gift far more than she could ever imagine.

Offering the delightful picture of her conflicted persona a quick Taslim, he vanished into his room.

Left behind was a young woman with an unexpected name lingering on her lips 'Samarth Singh banna...'