Dhoke ke baad kisi na kisi ka marna zaroori hota hai.

دھوکے کے بعد کسی نہ کسی کا مرنا ضروری ہوتا ہے

The heated crowd fell joyfully into the arms of the cool night, and darkness and delight pounced upon the rich soil of Pakistan. Aliyaar's startling announcement was met with a magnificent applause from an overjoyed crowd. People cheered and clapped gaily, thrilled at the prospect of a politician, who was willingly letting go of power at the wishes of his people. Some eyes were numb with pride at their leader's sacrifice, while others shone with happiness at the good riddance. But in their simple joy, little did they know of the raging fury of the man who had walked off the stage with a pursed smile on his face. The man whose life had changed in a matter of seconds. The man who now probably wanted to kill my husband with his bare hands.

As the night wore on and the jalsa came to its end, we were hurriedly escorted to our cars by our security details. I sat inside my car, patiently waiting for Aliyaar's arrival, when the deafening drill of helicopter rotors stirred awake the dead earth with their roaring thunder. Whorls of dust and sand surged in playful vortices and the air around us swirled in tight eddies. I peeped outside through the window and saw Dada Jaan, Ibrahim Taya and Zaroon Bhai boarding the chopper, before the door was snapped shut and the giant machine took off like a bird, disappearing into the dark sky.

I eased back into my seat. My fingers twinged and a dull ache settled into the pit of my stomach, my entire body alit with worry and fear. I tugged at the duppatta draped over my head and tore it off me. My face grew hot and the car suddenly felt claustrophobic. What happened tonight was unexpected, unprecedented and while my family might not have anticipated it, it was surely not something they'd take lightly.

But he was my husband, they wouldn't hurt him.

Or so I hoped...

My thoughts died a sudden death when I heard the unlocking of the door. Aliyaar slipped in beside me, but the surprised expression on his face confirmed my doubts. He wasn't expecting my presence. "I thought you left with Layla and your mother." He spoke once the driver ignited the engine and the car began to steer out of its parking. "I'm sorry you had to wait for so long. I was talking to a few party members."

I shrugged dismissively, but my brows still met together in a frown, "I wanted to be with you." He was unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them to his elbows, but looked up at me from his peripheral view and smirked. "Especially after the little stunt you pulled off today."

"I'd hardly call it a 'little stunt'." His eyes sparkled like molten shards of copper, intimidatingly confident but distantly aloof.

"I'd be worried for my life if I were you." In the echoing silence of the car, my voice was tranquil but laced with an ominous warning.

Aliyaar raised his head and shifted towards me. His features were drawn, almost impenetrable and his brows creased as his eyes sought the worry plaguing my face. "Perhaps I would have been if I weren't your husband." He turned away from me and retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. I watched quietly as he pulled out a stick, lit it and took a deep puff. A wisp of smoke twirled up towards the roof of the car, filling the small space with a stench of toxicity. "Thank you for tonight. Thank you for being there for me."

A small unconvinced smile flitted across my face, but I remained quiet. Deep down I knew, while he wasn't scared, he was definitely more worried than he cared to admit. We both remained silent, our minds swirling with a thousand thoughts, but words seemingly lost upon us. As the car pulled onto the highway leading to Lal Mahal, Aliyaar hastily stubbed the burning end of the half lit cigarette into the ashtray and relaxed back into his seat. His nerves seemed to have calmed down and he pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his feed to gauge the reaction of the public to tonight's rally.

"It's overwhelmingly positive." I said. I had scooted to his side to read along with him. "It seems you've won over Karman Ali as well. He has been my family's biggest critic." I said when Aliyaar turned his phone towards me to show a tweet from the popular journalist.

He chuckled at my response, "I admire this man. He is more faithful than a dog." He grinned, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "He has been loyal to the opposition even in the worst of circumstances."

"You need loyal dogs to protect you." I leaned in and pushed his hair from his forehead, my eyes seeking his. "And now, more than ever."

He watched me carefully, and slowly a smirk gathered on the corner of his lips. "Sometimes you surprise me." He bowed his head and whispered in my ear. "But you don't have to worry—"

"I don't have to worry? You openly declared war against my family and you're telling me not to worry. They don't even think twice, when they have to eliminate their opponent. They can be ruthless."

"But I'm not their opponent. The world sees me as family." He gave me a shrewd knowing look. "And if they try to hurt me, they'd be the first one to get the blame. I've forced them to think twice before they make any move against me."

I sighed and moved away from him, "I know." Somewhere I knew he was right, yet the fear warming my veins refused to cool. "Dada Jaan might hate your guts right now, but he'd never let Ibrahim Taya or anyone harm you. You are my husband after all." I heaved at the small hope flickering in my heart.

Aliyaar's hand clasped over mine, giving it a comforting squeeze, before he slowly lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of it. "You protect me, my Queen."

When the car came to a halt in the driveway of Lal Mahal, I felt my stomach twist with an unfamiliar feeling. Aliyaar still held onto my hand, but the unease raging through me knew no bounds. "Do you wish to stay with your mother or are you going home?" Aliyaar asked. "The meeting might take very long."

I thought for a while, waiting for the driver to leave the car, before I spoke in a low whisper. "Can I come with you?" He veered towards me in surprise. His eyebrows rose slightly and he stared at me for any signs of jest or hesitation. "Can I come with you— to the meeting?" I asked again. I might be pushing my luck, but the overwhelming need to stand besides him washed away every sense from my mind. I knew my presence would only call for more trouble, but I couldn't help myself. "I'll stay behind you, outside the room. But I —"

I paused when I noticed his expressions shift. Subtle disgust and anger iced his features, before he spoke in an agitated tone, "Why would my wife hide behind me?" His eyes shone with a disbelieving look. "If you wish to come inside, you'd be beside me not behind me."

"I do not wish to bring more trouble. My presence would weaken your position."

He shook his head, "If anything, it would only make me stronger." He leaned in and pushed back the mutinous strands of hair falling on my face. In the darkened shadows of the night, his eyes caught mine and softened with an enthralling expression I had grown to love. His breath caressed mine and my eyes fell shut at the proximity. And then I felt a shiver rock my soul, when his hand clasped my face and his lips pressed a kiss on my cheek. "Come with me, my love."

We stepped out of the car and his hand reached out for mine. I held onto it and looked at him with a worried expression. But he was unfazed. Undeterred and relaxed.

He looked down at me as I adjusted the duppatta over my head, a small appreciative smile flirting on the corner of his lips. I chanced a shy questioning glance at him, suddenly feeling coy under his amorous eyes. "Has anyone ever told you, ke sharmate hue bohat pyari lagti ho?"

[you look pretty when you blush.]

The smile on my face widened and a rosy hue painted my cheeks. I turned to him and bit my lower lip to stop the smile spilling on my face. "Why would anyone tell me that? Sirf apke samne sharmati hoon." I mumbled like a child and averted my gaze from his teasing one.

[I only blush in front of you.]

"I'm not going to lie, but your admission makes me unusually happy." The corner of his lips twitched. "Ready?" He held his hand out for me.

I looked at his raised hand and smiled, before lacing my fingers with his. "Ready as can be."

We strode through the halls of the Lal Mahal, and the warmth of his hand seeped into me like the first ray of sunlight kissing the earth after a cold freezing night. Chaos had always been my best friend, but tonight despite a wild storm raging around me, I felt calm like a lake.

I looked at him as he guided us through the empty halls. His jaw was set, his muscles flexed and a sliver of iron was lodged in his spine. His expressions were clear and steeled with an enviable calm. Everything around us melted away into the fringes of my consciousness. Despite the cutting tension in the air, all I wanted was to touch him and feel his warmth against my skin. This was my house, my home. I knew no one could harm me here, yet with him beside me I felt oddly protected; safe and cherished. For once, I felt I didn't have to fight my battles alone.

A sweat cooled my forehead and I gulped when I saw a guard scurrying to open the door of Dada Jaan's office seeing us walk towards it. Subconsciously, my hand squeezed Aliyaar's, who turned to me with a comforting smile. "You have no one to fear." I pursed my lips and untangled my hand from his hold, beckoning him to go ahead.

When we entered the room, the milling turmoil of the room fell into a deadly silence. All eyes turned towards us as if awaiting our arrival. Dada Jaan sat on his chair. His face sagged with deep wrinkles that spanned out around his inscrutable eyes. His lips were drawn and his features remained unreadable. Despite noticing my presence, his face remained immobile, not even a twitch of a brow. I immediately began to regret my decision, as I cowered under his gaze, hoping the shadows of the room would swallow me.

My dad was surprised to see me, but he quickly averted his gaze to gauge the reaction of the rest of the family. Ibrahim Taya and Zaroon Bhai sat with a seething expression, while Zayan and Shahzad stood by with drawn faces, slightly surprised at my presence. A few well known party members had also gathered in the room.

"Looks like we're late." Aliyaar said with a jeering smile. I shivered at his antics, but I could smell the fear running in the cold veins under my skin.

"This is interesting, especially coming from a person who has impeccable timings." Zaroon Bhai spoke through clenched teeth, making every effort to contain his anger. Ibrahim Taya, although silent, seemed like he was writhing in agony.

Aliyaar looked at the two and then chuckled, shaking his head. "I gave a fair warning." And then paused and added, "On multiple occasions."

"But you should have informed the party leadership before taking such a drastic step." An old member spoke up with a disgruntled sigh. "We've given our sweat and blood to this party. Did we not deserve to know before such a major step was taken?" Resentment made his tone heavy. "Our alliance with your party is barely a few months old. How can one person alone take such a big decision without consulting anyone. Is this a joke!"

All the members of the party nodded their heads in agreement. But their annoyance was the least of my concerns. I glanced at Dada Jaan, who was watching the exchange with a dangerous glare, his patience close to snapping. My eyes darted towards Aliyaar, too scared of his impulsiveness. But before he could speak, Dada Jaan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat with a loud gargle. Everyone turned their attention to him. He looked towards Aliyaar and then spoke in a measured tone, "Aliyaar and I had discussed this before the jalsa. I don't think he needed anyone else's approval."

Every pair of eyes in the room sparkled with surprise, except two. The two who were staring intently at each other like two lions in a ring of fire, ready to rip each other apart; fierce and dangerous. Both of them were silent, patiently waiting for the right opportunity to attack.

The men in the room nodded, probably dissatisfied with the explanation, but nonetheless respectfully quiet. No one had ever dared to question Dada Jaan, and in this moment to maintain the decorum I knew Dada Jaan had lied. There had been no prior exchange between Aliyaar and Dada Jaan, but the world did not need to know that. "It's been a long day and the jalsa has been successful." Dada Jaan said, looking at the members. "We should all meet tomorrow. Go home now, Allah Hafiz."

Slowly, the party members took their leave, exiting the room with a gloomy expression on their faces. Most of them had been dear friends of Ibrahim Taya and his exit was something they weren't prepared for, after all their positions relied on his re-election.

Once the door closed, a dense tortuous silence filled the room. I would feel the anger in Zaroon Bhai waiting to erupt like a molten lava, ready to destroy and ruin everything in its wake. But the soft voice of Dada Jaan broke through the silence. "Shany beta." Everyone turned to him, surprised at the sudden shift in his tone. "Have you forgotten the rules of this house? Since when have the women of this house started to concern themselves with matters of business?" His voice was chillingly low, so deadly quiet that it had a shiver shaking me to my bones.

"I— I." My voice trembled and I looked down, unable to meet his piercing gaze of disapproval. I knew this was coming yet fear leeched my heart and I felt the blood in my veins run cold.

"She has no fault in this." My heart began to pound with cold brutality when Aliyaar's voice rang into my ears. "She did what I told her to do."

"Are you so weak that you need a woman standing behind you?" Zaroon Bhai chuckled humorlessly.

A small smile curved on Aliyaar's lips and he shook his head, "I'm courageous enough to have a woman stand besides me." And then he reached out and threaded his fingers with mine in a powerful weave. A small insignificant action, yet wickedly consequential. Dada Jaan's eyes narrowed, but he knew it was futile trying to argue with Aliyaar.

"Enough!" Dada Jaan banged his hand on the table. "Stop it, the two of you! Aliyaar you've crossed a line today." Now that the men had left, his voice bellowed with anger.

But Aliyaar remained unmoved — an intimidating glare, a supercilious grin. "How can I cross the line when I was the one who drew it."

"Aliyaar!" Ibrahim Taya roared in fury. "How dare you. Abba might not let me contest the election, but I would never resign from my position."

Aliyaar folded his arms across his chest and watched Ibrahim Taya with a lazy expression "Why do you wish to make a mockery out of yourself and your party." His voice was low and amusing. "Let's not kid ourselves here. If you do not resign tomorrow, there is a very high chance the judiciary would invoke Article 62 and 63 against you, hence permanently disqualifying you from ever holding public office and serving as the head of a political party."

The silence around us was deafening. Faces flashed with rage. Eyes shone with arrogance. Egos clashed with bruising vengeance. But the reality slowly settled in like a cool winter's summer.

"Ajj izaat se ja rahe hain, kal beizati se nikale jainge."

[you're leaving with respect today, tomorrow you'd be ousted out disrespectfully.]

"You don't have to worry about our tomorrow." Zaroon Bhai hissed venomously. The lines on his face became rigid and his eyes pooled with fury. "The judges on the bench are our loyal dogs. We were the ones who got them there and we are the ones they'd protect."

"People in our world are only loyal to two things. Money and their life." Aliyaar smirked. "And given your party circumstances, you can guarantee neither. The Establishment wants you out. The People want you gone. It is only a matter of time."

At this Dada Jaan, rubbed his brow. Concerned more than irritated. He knew Aliyaar spoke the glaring truth. "You still had no right to announce Ibrahim's resignation publicly." He spoke in a calm tone. "But since you're our son in law, I would not hold this against you." The calculative twinkle in Dada Jaan's eyes confirmed my doubts. He had found a way to turn this in his favour. "You have after all very brilliantly changed the public perspective of Ibrahim and the party."

Aliyaar smiled knowingly. "What do you want Dada Jaan?"

"The cases against Ibrahim need to be dropped." He reached out and drank a sip of his whiskey, "All of them."

"You ask for too much." He mused, "But I'm sure it can be managed, after all Ibrahim Taya is family." He turned to Ibrahim Taya with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Just like you are family." Dada Jaan replied, "And family takes care of each other. I have been giving thought to your proposition. Perhaps after the exit poll results are out we can give it further thought."

"Are you seriously considering making him the Chief Minister?" Ibrahim Taya and Zaroon screamed in unison. "After everything he did!"

Dada Jaan remained calm, "Waqt ki nazakat ko samjho, Zaroon."

At this, Zaroon Bhai gripped a glass from Dada Jaan's table and slammed it on the floor in our direction. As if anticipating his reaction, Aliyaar's hand grasped mine and in one swift motion he had us against the adjacent wall, carefully dodging the shards of glass exploding around us. Starled gasps reverberated through the room, but I was too numb to register anyone's reaction. I could hear my father and Dada Jaan screaming in the background, but the shock had me frozen in my place until I felt Aliyaar cradle my face and repeatedly ask, "Are you alright?"

I nodded mindlessly as my body began to regain some semblance of composure. "I'm alright." I said. As I jolted back to reality, I saw Aliyaar, Zayan and Shahzad peering down at me with a concerned expression. Dad and Dada Jaan were livid at the willful stupidity of Zaroon Bhai's actions. Blood flowed through my body, soaring with a mixture of fear and rage.

Rage at my cousin's actions.

And fear at my husband's reaction.

Aliyaar's mouth was drawn in punishing fury, his eyes harbouring bloodshot petulance. The veins on his temples throbbed painfully as red hot blood pulsed down his neck. His jaw was set and his teeth clenched mercilessly. He turned around to cast a dangerous glare at Zaroon Bhai, almost ready to pummel him to the ground.

"How dare you hurt her?" He growled and lunged at Zaroon Bhai. My heart dropped, but I pushed forward bolting at him. I grabbed onto his shirt, my hands pushing onto his chest. I could feel the fury rise up his chest as I pressed my palms into him, trying to hold him back.

"Aliyaar!" I shouted.

His face had turned red. Blood red. Rage cutting through his body.

"Behave yourself, Aliyaar!" My rebuke came out wrapped in a low whisper. "Control your temper."

Behind me I could hear the mixed voices of my family as they tried to simmer the situation down. But I had no time to hear, because right now I had to control my husband who was raging like a bull.

"How dare he attack you again?" His tone verged on maddening infuriation.

Again?

"Stop it." Dada Jaan's voice rose above the chaos. Aliyaar's eyes caught mine and my expression softened, pleading with him to stop. "Aliyaar you should go home now, we will talk tomorrow."

Aliyaar took a deep breath to calm his nerves and then turned towards Dada Jaan. "There will be no more talks unless Ibrahim Uncle hands in his resignation publicly." His tone was laden with finality and with that he grabbed my hand and yanked me with him towards the door.

"The only thing we will hand in publicly is the end of our alliance with your party." Ibrahim Taya's voice boomed from behind us. Aliyaar stopped in his tracks and then turned around slowly to face my family. Ibrahim Taya's brow was preached high with a cunning shrewdness, while Dada Jaan and Dad watched with horror. "You're not the only one with deep pockets. We have enough financiers."

At this Zaroon Bhai turned around and retrieved a file from the shelf behind him and put it in front of Dada Jaan. "These men will happily finance the election. We do not need him anymore or his tantrums." Dada Jaan glanced down at the file and then up towards us.

"You cannot tolerate the tantrums of one man, imagine dealing with fifty such men." Aliyaar chuckled sardonically. Dada Jaan took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was clear his patience was hanging by the thread, but he knew silence was his most powerful tool. He knew well, politics was about timings not emotions.

"That is our problem. Not yours." Zaroon Bhai hissed and then he turned to me. "Shanzae, you have to decide if you wish to be with your family or be with the man who is out to destroy your family."

Dada Jaan and Dad looked at Zaroon Bhai in shock. "Zaroon!" They both called out in shock.

"Bhai!" I gasped in shock and then took a deep breath to calm myself, before I spoke in a deeply irritated tone. "You don't know what you're talking about. This man here is my husband." I turned to Aliyaar who was standing behind me with an empty expression. His eyes shimmered, and he blinked when his eyes met mine. He seemed taken aback, almost shocked at the turn of events.

"A husband you had to marry to save your family." Bhai argued. "You don't have to be tied down in a marriage of convenience. You can be free. You can come back home."

"But I'm home!"

"Zaroon you have lost your mind." Dada Jaan thundered at his grandson, his frail body shaking with anger.

"Shanzae, it is best you and Aliyaar leave." My dad said crossly. His forehead had creased with frustration and his eyes glimmered with an unbelieving sheen.

I turned to Aliyaar, who surprisingly had remained silent, watching me with a carefully controlled expression. For a few agonous moments, I could barely make out what he was thinking, his emotions fully masked behind his stoned face.

Ibrahim Taya turned to me with a solemn expression. "If you leave today, it would be better if you forget this family." I veered to him in surprise. Shock shaking me to my core. My father watched with a horrid expression, but despite his feeble attempts to protest, he was quickly shut down by my uncle. Like he had been on every occasion in the past.

I turned towards my grandfather, who was silent. But he was silent not because he didn't have anything to say, he was silent because he wanted me to speak. His brow quivered anxiously, shock and anticipation perched heavy on his face.

I looked up at Aliyaar, who was watching me with the same expression. That same silent expression that was waiting for me to take my decision. But despite his silence, the gold of his eyes lit up with one prominent emotion. Fear.

The fear of losing me.

The same vulnerability. The same longing. The same desire. The same fire.

And in that moment I knew there was only one decision.

I turned around and looked at the faces of my family. Each one bearing a different expression. Some worried and anxious and some calculative and shrewd. I took a deep breath and wiped the tear from the corner of my eye. "You've put me in a very difficult position." I said. "But I wish you well."

And with that I slipped my hand into Aliyaar's and walked out of the room.

➰➰➰

The dark midnight gloom claimed the skies.

Silent and empty.

In tonight's scuffle and today's sighs, words had curled up and died.

I might have lost my home, but I had found my soul. Silence became my only language.

His hand was still clasped around mine, our fingers perfectly welding together like a cobweb.

When we reached home, Aliyaar's family was awaiting our arrival in their living room. Ahmed uncle and Safina aunty looked at us gravely, their eyes trying to gauge our mood. Perhaps they had figured out something was amiss, because they exchanged an empty worried look and then remained silent.

My head hung low and the veins on my temples throbbed painfully. Without a word, I made my way towards our room when I heard Ahmed Uncle call for Aliyaar. "I need to talk to you in my study, Aliyaar." I turned to Aliyaar and then untangled my hand from his hold, almost happy at the prospect of some time alone.

I sat in the darkness, swallowed by the shadows of my room, thinking about my life and how it had changed. I was a mere pawn in this game of betrayal and trust. But even a pawn is enough to change the whole game. They might have sacrificed me, but I would never let anyone capture me.

Minutes passed through in wallowing silence. My heart wept but no tears left my eyes. I waited for him to come back, but there was no sign of him. I glanced at the clock, an hour had passed and he hadn't returned. Was he still busy or was he avoiding me? I waited for a few more minutes, before pushing myself off the bed and walking out of my room. With soft stealthy steps I walked downstairs into the empty hallway towards Ahmed Uncle's study. The house was quiet, but as I approached the room, I could hear muffled sounds from inside the room.

I slowed down, trying to make out the voices coming from inside. "— stop behaving like a child."

There was silence for a while before I heard Aliyaar seethe in a heated tone. "I will kill him if he tries to hurt her again." My brows puckered together in a frown. Was he talking about Zaroon Bhai? But Bhai had never hurt me. I pressed closer trying to pry upon the conversation.

"Then go kill him." Ahmed uncle said with a defeated irritated sigh. "Shanzae is my daughter as well. But they are her family, even if they hurt it's between them and her. Stop trying to decide for her."

"She is my wife! I've every right to protect her." Aliyaar growled. "And how will she decide when she doesn't even know the truth."

"Then tell her." Uncle retorted rather calmly.

Tell me what?

Aliyaar chuckled sardonically, "Tell her that her own family stole and leaked information about their properties and blamed it on me or tell her that her cousin tried to frame me for murder and blame it on her or do you want me to tell her that they were they ones who attempted to kidnap her? What all do you want me to tell her?"

With each word, his voice continued to rise, sizzling with burning temper. Behind the door I could not see his face, but I knew was livid with rage. I swallowed hard, trying to make sense of his words. For a few harsh moments, it almost felt like someone had wedged a knife through my heart. Nothing felt more painful than the cold stab of betrayal. Once again I was pushed mercilessly into the unfathomable depths of the ocean, left to drown in an abyss of darkness.

The sweet poison of betrayal flowed through my veins, slowly suffocating me. I could sense the silence fading in and the chaos rising inside of me. Despise and despair began to enshroud my body. A tear rolled down my face.

"She deserves to know."

"I cannot hurt her, she—," I felt a sob wreak my body, but I clasped my hands over my mouth to prevent any sound from coming out. But it was too late; I knew he had heard me, because he had suddenly turned quiet and the soft thud of footsteps began to edge closer. And so without a second thought, I ran. The last thing I wanted was to break down in front of him and have him see me in all my vulnerabilities.

I ran to my room and closed the door behind me. With laboured steps I trudged to the mirror to stare at my empty existence. I studied my face. My eyes shimmered and cheeks burnt with hot tears streaming down my face. I cried, my body  shaking with violent sobs. My eyes grew swollen and red. I took in my reflection and my whole body scalded with indignation. My eyes pooled with blood as I took in the dress and jewels that adorned my body; all of them gifts from my family, a reminder of my past.

I tore the earrings off my ears and threw them on the floor. I yelped at the pain piercing through my skin, but the tears trailing down my face were more painful. I felt the fabric of the dress combust into flames against my skin; burning me into ashes. Blindly I tugged at the zip behind me, trying to pull it off me with a maddening rage. But the more I tried, the more it tangled with the threads. I brushed away the smattering tears from my cheeks and then reached up again and began to unzip my dress. All I wanted was to get it off me.

And then a pair of hands caught mine.

I stopped. And I stood there frozen and unmoving. The warm achingly familiar touch.

Treacherous tears clouded my vision again, but my eyes snapped shut, unable to meet his eyes. Despite my broken state, I could not let anyone see me drowning in my raw naked vulnerabilities. My hands dropped to my side and my head hung low; my body softly shaking with the silent sobs wreaking my body.

I could feel his hesitation and his reluctance when his fingers slowly brushed against the nape of my neck. It almost seemed like he was scared. Scared to touch me. Scared to break me. But I was already broken. My spirits were crushed. I sighed breathlessly at the thought. A lonely tear grazed the heated skin of my face, when I felt his fingers press against the zip of my dress. He waited for a while, his fingers seeking permission. My breath became laboured and my eyes clenched shut, my hands clutching onto the table for support. And then with languid slowness I felt him pull the zip down my back. I shivered as the cold air of the room nibbled at the exposed skin of my back.

I shuddered when his fingers fleetingly grazed my bare back, scorching me under his fiery touch. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. But all that left my lips were tiny whimpers and silent sobs. His hands clasped around my shoulders and he lowered his head, his forehead pressing against the crown of my head. He inhaled deeply and for a moment it almost felt like he was breathing me in, like he was memorising my scent. "I'm sorry," his low voice rasped in my ears. At this I opened my eyes and blinked at our reflection. Hot breath washed across my skin.

"Why?" My voice came out hoarse, almost unrecognisable. "Why did you not tell me?" I flinched at the acrid bitterness of my tone, it's coldness enough to chill me to the marrow of my bone. I could feel his body go rigid, before he spoke in a defeated tone.

"I can't see you like this." He whispered. "Ever."

I turned around to face him, my patience running on its last straw. But one look into his deep copper orbs, had me breaking down. My knees began to tremble and I slowly crumbled to my feet. He knelt on his hunches besides me and gave me a brief but quelling stare in my direction. But the unconcealed pain of betrayal etched across my face was enough to rob him of his mettle. A brief flash of pain cut through the set features of his face, and he leaned in to gather me into his arms.

But I flinched and pushed him away, tugging madly at the sleeves of my dress to pull it off me. "Why would they do this to me?" I cried in a fit of anger, hurt and pain. "Why would they do this? Why?" My eyes watered in disbelief.

"Jaan." He tried to hold my hands, but I pulled away. My tears were now straining my dress.

"They wanted me to marry you. Then why would they do this?" I ripped a portion of my sleeve.

At this his face hardened and he grabbed my hands forcefully. "Stop hurting yourself, Shanzae." His voice rose above mine and a deep frown agitated his calm features. Almost immediately, I stopped crying. My breathing eased and I looked at him in silence. I blinked, taking in his stern face. He waited for me to calm down before smoothing his hand over my hair. And then he stood up and retrieved his shirt from my wardrobe. "Stand up." His hand reached out for me.

I wiped the tears off my face and held onto his hand, slowly pushing myself off the ground. I sighed, when his arms skidded around my waist, swiftly pulling me into his hardened chest. His hands skimmed over my shoulders and with one deft nudge of his fingers, he pushed the dress off me. The shirt pooled around my feet. Although the room was poorly lit, I felt acutely aware of my state of undress. All my vulnerabilities and insecurities laid out in the open for him to see. Raw and naked.

I was pressed up against him, only a sliver of space between us. I would hear his heart drum within him, his breathing becoming deep and rugged. Tersely I looked up to him, but I was surprised when I saw he wasn't looking at me. And then blindly he reached for my arm and threaded it through the sleeve of his shirt, one and then the other other. He started doing the buttons of my shirt from the top.

He was almost midway through, when I clasped his hands forcing him to look at my face. "Why aren't you looking at me? Do you not want me?"

His face softened and a fleeting pang of guilt briefed his face. "You know I want you. I want all of you." His hand clasped my face and his thumb caressed my jaw, "But I can't look at you right now. Not when you're so broken and empty." He sighed, touching his forehead with mine. "You're paying the price for my dreams. I feel responsible."

"I'm only paying the price of being born in this world."

"But this is your world. Stop trying to run away from it. This is your legacy, this is your destiny, this is your fate. Embrace it!"

I looked away, "We should sleep." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in defeat. And then turned away, pulling his shirt over his head. The sinews of his muscles flexed under the flickering light of the lamp. Then he left to change his clothes. I pursed my lips, rolling them between my teeth and then began to button my shirt. I reached out to change my trousers but the hem of the shirt fell to my knees. I thought for a while, before folding the trouser and keeping it back in the wardrobe. Tonight the shirt was enough.

The door clicked and I heard him ask, "Have you changed?"

"Yes."

He walked out and his eyes froze seeing me stand there in just his shirt. He took a long and deep breath and then scrolled up to me. His arms buckled underneath my knees and he scooped me into his arms, leisurely walking us to our bed. I smiled weakly when he placed me on the bed and his arms wrapped around me. I snuggled into him, his scent hypnotising me with a maddening rage. The fire that smouldered within me began to combust with splendid fury.

I scrambled on top of his chest, my fingers reaching out to tug his hair. I looked into his eyes that seemed to be burning with the same fire. My fingers closed around the roots of his hair and I leaned closer and murmured heatedly. "Yeh election hum jeeteinge, Aliyaar. Ek ek vote ke liye tarsa deinge."

[we will win this election Aliyaar. We will make them beg for each vote.]

A ghost of a smile appeared in his lips and he pulled my head to him, our lips almost touching, "You're the queen of this game. My Queen!" A vindictive smile etched on my face and sighed placing my head on his chest.

I was no longer a princess of ashes, I was the queen of fire.

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