Shatranj waqt ka khel zaroor hai
Par usse khelne ka koi waqt nahi.

شطرنج وقت کا کھیل ضرور ہے
پر اسے کھیلنے کا کوٸ وقت نہیں

Note: I have never been to a shrine or a mazar, thus the description in this chapter is purely based on my imagination and from what I've seen in movies. The description does not in any way aim to describe any particular place, nor does it subscribe to any sect. If any account is incorrect, please reach out to me in private so I may rectify it. Thank you. Happy reading!

The afternoon sun leaned over to place a fiery kiss upon the green dome of the mazar. The four pearly white minarets, on each corner, stood like erect soldiers vigilantly guarding the holy shrine of the Sufi saint. The sweltering summer heat wrapped around us, heavy with the fragrance of roses, oudh and incense. I gaped at the majestic monument in front of me. The white marble courtyard gleamed under the blazing light of the day, cool and calming, a stark contrast to the buzzing energy surrounding us. Green flags flared with the vagrant breeze and loud murmurs of recitation danced in the air. There was something about this place that calmed me. Was it the spiritual holiness or the electric glory, I wasn't sure.

It was nearing midday when we arrived, a little early for the usual crowds to begin thonging the place. A few murids and worshippers climbed up the stairs carrying heavy baskets filled with rose petals and green chadors, while a few needy and destitute lined the streets waiting for alms and foods from the followers of the shrine. Fruit and flower vendors prepared themselves for the busy day ahead, squalling in their high pitched voices to gain the attention of the worshippers.

When we stepped out of the car, Aliyaar was quick to slip beside me, his hand reaching out for mine. Our guards rallied around us, forming a human wall. "I told you I don't want the guards here." I muttered in his ears, annoyed at the attention we were attracting. I could see the inquisitive pairs of eyes turning around to stalk the cause of the sudden mayhem. A few faces turned away in irritation, but others lit up with recognition.

"And I told you it's not safe."

I pursed my lips, making no attempt to argue with him further. He was right and after everything he did for me, I had no heart to fight with him over such a trivial issue. I nodded and began to climb up the stairs. With each step, memories came flooding in like a ghost from a misty past. A tear slipped down my face as last night spun before my eyes in a whirling hypnotic motion. I had cried, cried till tears had dried my eyes and drained my soul. He had cradled me in his arms and whispered honeyed words in my ears. He was patient and loving. If there was ever something I feared, it was to be vulnerable. So I had learnt to hide. Every time a storm threatened to strike, like a pigeon, I'd tuck my features and hide underneath the leaves. Hiding my fears behind a rock. But last night, in his embrace, I realised I was a peacock, a peacock born to dance under the rain.

Another tear rolled down at my family's betrayal. Aliyaar had deliberately kept one of my attackers alive. And through him, he was able to get evidence of my family's involvement in the case. They were Zaroon Bhai's best friend's men. They might not have wanted to hurt me, but their only objective was to blackmail Dada Jaan and Aliyaar to call off the alliance. On the night of Ibrahim Taya's attack, only Zaroon Bhai and Shahzad had stayed behind in the lobby where I had left my bag. And after that the gun Aliyaar had slipped in my bag had gone missing only to be retrieved by the police from the crime scene. As Aliyaar told me everything last night, I could hardly believe my uncle and cousin would stoop to such lengths. Could power be so blinding?

Another tear rolled down. I had always thought of myself as a princess. A true princess. My family had treated me like one. I would sit in my grandfather's lap, playing with the white hairs of his beard, while he conducted his meetings and met with political leaders. My father and uncle would spoil me with gifts, dresses and toys. My brothers pampered me like a baby. But as I grew up, things began to change. Dada Jaan and Ibrahim Taya rose to power like a comet streaking through the sky. Dad became a successful business tycoon. Our family's brilliance, accomplishments and legacy stretched out like a never ending ocean. But despite the  unbridled power and unimaginable wealth, I no longer felt like a princess, I was more of a prisoner locked in a castle.

But I was no prisoner. I was not born to be caged. I remember the first time I had visited this shrine, I had sneaked out with an old guard. I used to call him Abdul Chacha and he, having taken mercy upon an unhappy child, decided to bring me for a stroll in the public gardens. I had played in the park, mingled with the children, and hopped on the swings like a free bird. On our way back, I grabbed corn from a street vendor, sucked upon an ice lolly and watched the blurred tangerine swirls of the sky turn dark. I was a happy girl, until our car stopped on the junction opposite this mazar. Curious and intrigued by the busy spot I pestered Abdul chacha to show me around before we went back home. I have little recollection of that night, except that a shabbily dressed woman with a broken tooth, disheveled hair and a crooked nose had jumped in front of us and cried, "Queen! You are a Queen." I stared at her in shock, almost intimidated by her shrill voice and ghostly features. But the woman kept repeating. "Our Queen! The Queen of this holy land. The Queen of five rivers."

Abdul chacha, fearing for my security, pushed the woman away and pulled me away from the crowds, shoving me into the car and instructing the driver to speed away. I wanted to ask her what she meant, but I never got the chance. I peeped out from the rare mirror of the car, watching the giant green dome disappear in the dust and chaos of the city.

I never told anyone about this incident. But I had once asked Chacha about the woman. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "She is a mad woman who roams the mazar, begging and claiming to tell the future."

I giggled, surely a madwoman. "We don't even live in a kingdom. How can I be a queen?"

Chacha laughed, "Well, she once told my neighbour he'd have a son. And 10 years and 7 daughters later, he is still holding on to hope. The woman is famous for conning people."

I smiled at the silly memory.

When we reached the top of the stairs, I adjusted the duppatta over my head and Aliyaar tied his handkerchief around his head in respect. We slipped off our shoes, the marble of the floor cooling our feet. I began to walk towards the shrine when Aliyaar held my hand, stopping me in my tracks. "Why are we here Shanzae?"

"To do some good." I replied. He looked at me unconvinced. I sighed, "Last night was difficult for me. I am here because I want to start afresh. We have a long journey ahead and we'd not stop at anything but your victory. I've heard a lot of people come here looking for food and help. We are neck deep in sins, perhaps by helping other we can atone ourselves."

"Yeah, but it's not safe." He said, looking around with cautious eyes. Despite the guards standing at a distance, he still wasn't comfortable.

I laughed. "That's why you've bought a whole army with you." When he didn't seem to enjoy my joke, I stepped near him and whispered, "Allah protects us. And he will protect us. We can't hide ourselves in a box, just because we're too scared to live." He smiled a little and I turned towards the shrine. "Now come, and let's hope Allah's blesses and forgives us."

"If I wish for Him to forgive me then I must seek your forgiveness first." He said intently.

My eyebrows rose a little, surprised at his words. "My forgiveness? Whatever for?"

"For putting you through this." There was something earnest in the way he looked at me. Under the fiery blaze of the sun, the molten copper of his eyes married with the golden caramel of his irises, radiating from them warm brutal honesty. "Had I not been so adamant upon becoming the chief minister, your family wouldn't have hurt you."

"You never kept anything from me. I chose this life knowing fully well what I was getting myself into." I smiled and squeezed his hand lightly. "As for my family, I'm sure last night was enough for them to know we aren't here to be played with. I will always stand beside you, Aliyaar. I wish to be your strength, not your weakness."

"You are my everything." He said with a soft lazy smile. We slowly walked inside the small room, heavy with the fragrance of roses and stood there for a while. The saint's bier was covered with a green chador with Quranic verses inscribed on it in gold and heaps of rose petals dusted all around. A few pilgrims and worshippers sat with their hands held high, crying with undeterred vehemence.

I closed my eyes and offered fateha.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Aliyaar watching me with a curious eye. I raised my brow at him in question, but he shook his head dismissing the thoughts in his mind and smiled softly. When I knew he wouldn't share his mind, I turned around and stepped outside the threshold of the small room. As soon as we left, a guard came running over to us. "The custodians of the Shrine wish to meet you. They are hoping you'd donate towards the upcoming urs."

"What's an urs?" Aliyaar asked.

"It's an annual celebration that takes place at Sufi Mazars," I replied. "Let them know we will send our donation. Has the food for the langar arrived? And what about the clothes and blankets I had asked for?"

"It's ready. People have already started lining up." He replied enthusiastically. "Do you wish to distribute it yourself, bibi? I'm sure people would love to see you amongst them."

"No." Aliyaar responded before I had a chance to think. "It's not safe. And we should get home." He began to tug me with him, but I pulled my hand back, glaring at him angrily. "What?" He eyed me with confusion, a tincture of frustration lining the rims of his eyes.

"We will go down and distribute the food ourselves. That's what we came here for." 

"No we will not." His face twisted with a disapproving expression, clearly appalled at my suggestion. I folded my arms across my chest, responding to him with a stubborn, irritated expression. When he realised I was in no mood to leave, he sighed in defeat and murmured, "Five minutes only."

The sun had risen to all its glory. It's light seemed to burn everything with its radiance. The guard rolled in drums of biryani, fresh and aromatic, and began dishing them out to the people who had lined up. We stood-by overseeing the process. Crowds had begun to assemble around us, chanting slogans of our party and cheering our presence. Men promised us their support in the upcoming elections, while women prayed for our success. For the first time in my life, I realised these were real people, with real problems, with real hopes and real dreams. They were amongst us. An old woman walked up to me and put her wrinkled hands over my head, and said to us, "I saw you on television yesterday. And I felt there was hope for your country. My bones are weak, but I can die happy knowing my country is in safe hands."

I smiled at her and held her hand. "May you live a long life. We won't disappoint you."

She smiled and patted my head again. "Khush raho! May Allah bless you with a child soon." I blushed when I saw Aliyaar pass me a knowing smirk. His eyes were hidden underneath his glasses, but I knew he was enjoying my predicament.

We had stayed there longer than we had originally intended. Our visit proved to be fruitful. We mingled with the crowds, listening to their wishes and grievances, thanking them and promising them solutions once elections concluded. The caretakers of the shrine gathered around Aliyaar asking for donations.

It was time for us to leave, so I turned around when a ghastly frail woman jumped at me from amidst the crowd. Her knotted white hair fell upon her wizened face, like rotting strands of straw. Her lupin eyes smouldered with ominous warning, flaming with mischief. I screamed, but her bony fingers wrapped around my wrist in a fearsome grip, and her wheezy, cracking voice rose above mine, "Blood. I see blood."

I tried to pull away, but she held on. "Blood. There will be blood." The crowds and guards around us scrambled to free me, pushing at the mad woman. There was chaos, utter pandemonium. From the side I could see Aliyaar racing towards me, as I thrashed my head wildly, in an attempt to free myself. The woman refused to let go. A guard fired in the air and everyone began running around like headless chickens, screaming and crying. And somewhere in between the madness, I felt Aliyaar press behind me. The woman immediately let go and Aliyaar caught my hand pulling me into him. The woman's eyes fell upon Aliyaar and her thin, bloodless lips curled into a sinister smile. "You will have his blood. And then there will be blood. Your hands will be bloodied with his blood."

The guards caught her by the arms and pulled her away from us. She did not struggle, but jerked her head, her eyes catching mine one last time and under the sunlight, I saw her crooked nose and broken tooth.

"Blood. I see blood."

💎 💎 💎

To say that I was frightened would be an understatement. I was terrified.

The words kept echoing in my ear like a wretched shriek. No matter how much I tried, my soul trembled at the possibility of her words coming true. It seemed to me, the words had paralysed me by their menacing aura, slowly creeping upon me like a blood thirsty beast and choking the life out of me. Long after we had reached home, and I had tucked myself in the safety of his arms, I could still hear my heart pound in my ears, my muscles were tense and I could feel the blood rage through my veins.

Aliyaar lay underneath me.

I was sprawled over his torso, my head nestled in his neck, my fingers drawing random patterns on his chest. No matter how hard I tried, my mind was flocking with horrid thoughts. Although Aliyaar hadn't given much attention to the woman's words, he knew I was still deeply disturbed. His hand slipped inside my shirt, skimming over the fading scar on the side of my belly, his touch and breath caressing me. "I promise Aliyaar, I will never harm you. I can't even think of such a thing." I tried to reassure.

"Are you still thinking about that mad woman?"

"I can't seem to stop thinking. Why would she say such a thing?" I looked to meet his disapproving gaze. His hold on my waist tightened and he shook his head.

"Literally everyone there told us, the woman is mentally unstable and likes to scare people. Since when have you started to fall for such superstitions?" He raised his hand to my forehead and tucked my hair behind my ear, his fingers languidly tracing the parameter of my face. "You wanted me to spend the day with you and you've already wasted half of it thinking about a mad woman."

I sighed heavily and bit my lip, my mind still buzzing with thoughts. "What if something bad happens? How can you be so sure I won't cause you harm? How can you trust me?" My voice was trembling and thin.

"Because you chose me when you didn't have to. You chose knowing that I could not give you the life you always dreamt of. You chose me even when the odds were stacked up against me. But most importantly, you chose me over your family. And for that I'll choose you, in every life, in every world, in every moment."

I smiled at him meekly. I could feel the deep hues of blush darken my skin and warm my face with a subtle glow. Everytime he uttered such words I would feel myself come alive. Everytime I broke, he'd piece me back. Everytime I fell, he'd lift me from the rubble and the darkness that surrounded me. Everytime I hated myself, he'd love me and make me want to love myself. Sometimes I find it hard to imagine a life without him.

"I'd choose you in a heartbeat. Always and forever." I rose a little and then pressed a kiss on the side of his face, our lips brushing against each other in a teasing caress. And then I smiled, my fingers grazing his jaw shadowed by a morning stubble. "But last night, I didn't take that decision in a fit of emotions." His brow rose by a minuscule, his eyes carefully watching the play of emotions on my face. "They can't disown me; for all it's worth I'm their blood. They can't sever ties with me." The corners of his lips quivered into a small wicked smile. "And if I hadn't chosen you, it would have weakened both your position and mine. And right now, we can afford neither. My future is tied to yours. If I want a safe future for myself and my children, I can't weaken yours."

He stayed quiet for a while, his hand languidly stroking my back underneath my shirt. "You've changed." He spoke thoughtfully, his voice remarkably devoid of any emotion. My brows drew together in question, unable to make sense of his comment. He gave me a look of cunning intelligence, "The Shany I knew was impulsive and reckless. Her emotions controlled her." His eyes sought mine and he stared at me, his eyes alight with an emotion I knew was pride. He nudged his nose against mine, "But this Shanzae knows and understands the gravity of the situation and knows how to manipulate it to her advantage. She controls the situation."

"Just like I control you!" I giggled and pinched his cheeks.

His eyebrows rose at the statement and his eyes twinkled with mischief. "No you don't." He swatted my hands away and wrinkled his nose, and then suddenly he flipped us around, trapping me underneath him, "but you make me want to lose control."

I gasped in surprise, heat blossoming on my face at the intimacy of our position. I could feel every inch of him pressed up against me. Rock solid and hard. My fingers tightened around the silk bed cover and my teeth sunk into the plump flesh of my lower lip. I twisted, my back arching into him.

"What are you doing?"

The air between us swirled with the intensity of a smouldering fire.

The corner of his lips curled into a smirk, "Trying not to lose control."

Heat flowed through my veins, burning me with untrammelled need. I smiled at him seductively, and then trailed my finger down the side of his face, my lashes fluttering like a butterfly, "Why? What's stopping you?" He didn't reply, instead lowered his head against mine, his nose grazing my heated cheeks. "Any other man in your place, would not have behaved as saintly as you do."

I could feel his body tense up for a second, before he pressed his lips on my cheeks and dragged them down to my neck, "If you're trying to make me jealous—" his lips parted and he tenderly sucked at the base of my neck. "—then it's working."

My heart soared.

My fingers curled around the thickness of his hair and I tugged at them, feeling the heat swirl through my core. His lips moved against my skin, softly at first, and then gradually swaying from playful nibbles to demanding kisses. I felt a surging tide of warmth envelop me, every thought blurred and drowned into nothingness. I wrapped my arms around him, when he dragged his lips from my neck to my jaw.

"Kiss me."

He looked into my eyes for a split second, his own heavy with swelling desire. The golden of his eyes burnt like an inferno. Raw and dangerously alive. And then he pressed my face between his palms, tilted his head and brought his mouth to mine.

And at that moment, I was lost again. Lost in the golden giddiness that spun around me like a dream. It began as a playful kiss, nothing salacious, but soon the fire within began to smoulder. Our lips parted, our tongues battled, our souls met and everything turned prurient. His lips worshiped me, his fingers cherished me. Our breaths were entangled, starting a fire between us.

The fire. It burnt brighter than the sun.

In the dizzying madness of the moment, I felt powerful like a sinful siren, bold like an enchantress and majestic like an empress. I dragged my hands down his back and grabbed the hem of his shirt. Our lips parted and his eyes locked with mine in yet another wily battle. I gaped as heat flared through every part of my body. I suddenly felt hot, like a volcano threatening to erupt.

Aliyaar pulled back, his eyes trying to disciper my thoughts. But before any sense or coyness could dampen my intentions, I tugged at this shirt and yanked it over his head. He stood before me bare chested and glorious. His shoulders were broad, but his torso was lean and chiseled. This wasn't the first time I had seen him shirtless, but something about the intimacy of this moment had me shaking with an indescribable ache.

He straddled me, his legs buckled underneath him. I scrambled back, lifting myself off the bed, supporting myself with my elbows. And then with one hand, I reached out and brushed my fingers on his stomach, feeling the taut muscles of his abs. I suddenly felt alive, every nerve in my body tingling and unfurling with desire. This was madness. His eyes fell shut and a groan rumbled off his chest. Blood flew through my body, igniting it with an uncontrollable fire that threatened to consume me.

Suddenly his eyes jerked open, catching mine in a searing gaze and everything stilled for an interminable beat. His eyes darkened. Desire floating through them like admonishable spirits.

We both wanted this. There was no more denying it.

I pushed myself off the bed and on cue his hand caught mine and pulled me up against him. I was pressed up against him, acutely aware of his hardness tight against my softness, a stark contrast. I traced my hands from his abdomen to his shoulders, enjoying the feel of the light dusting of hair on his chest, while his lips claimed my neck. His hands held my head, craning it to the side to give it access.

"I want you." He growled, nibbling at my earlobe. I shivered at the raw intensity of his voice, his words bringing back some semblance of life and realisation. Was I ready for this?

Was this the moment?

"Tell me now if you want me to stop." He said hoarsely, his lips kissing me underneath my ear. My eyes rolled shut and I pressed my lips together, trying to swallow the moan threatening to erupt. "Or now." His tongue flirted with the skin of my neck exploring the secrets of my soul. Did I want him to stop? I could hardly think, my thoughts and words all dying a silent death under the brutal assault of his lips. "Or now." He whispered against my lips, his hands slipping underneath my shirt to cup the swells of my breasts.

His hands squeezed gently and I cried out at the foreign feeling invading my body. I could feel the heat rise up my stomach and the knot in my core tightened painfully. My head fell into his neck, welcoming his touch. Our bodies were pressed together, our chests heaving as our breathing became heavy. I could feel our shared breaths and hear our hearts that were pounding in sync. Surely, I wasn't the only one writhing with unbridled need.

His hands roamed over me and when I made no attempt to stop him, he held the edge of my shirt and dragged it over my head. I shivered as the cool air kissed my skin. His hands skimmed over my waist, pulling me into him. Our faces touched, our lips flirted with teasing caresses, only a sliver of pale, silvery light parting us.

My breath became rugged and my mind blurred, but before I could even attempt to hide, he pushed me back on the bed and prowled on me like a tiger stalking his prey. His eyes darkened with appreciation as they revelled in on the sight that most pleased a man. His eyes roamed over me leaving a trail of fire on my skin. Warmth blossomed in my chest, igniting sparks of fire within me. I moaned, squirming underneath him when he leaned in and kissed the fading scar on my navel, just like he had on our wedding night, his lips impossibly soft against my skin. I wanted to cry out at the feeling, but I swallowed the moan and dug my fingers into the unruly thickness of his hair.

Breathing deeply, he climbed up and claimed my mouth again for a fervent kiss. His hands grasped my wrists and locked them beside my head. His lips pulled away and then brushed against mine teasingly. Once, twice and then again. I groaned in frustration, craving the feel of his lips against mine, but he kept pulling back, enjoying the rising tension in my body. I opened my eyes in irritation and saw him watching me with a lazy smirk. He leaned in again and my lips parted in anticipation, but just as his lips caressed mine he pulled back. The unmissable twinkle in his eyes gleamed with mischief.

"I swear Aliyaar, I'll break your nose if you even think about teasing me." I seethed angrily, much to his amusement. I glared at him, writhing my wrists to free myself. But I knew the attempt was futile, he was too strong for me.

"I thought you controlled me." He remarked once I gave up my struggle. I narrowed my eyes at him and he chuckled, leaning in to inhale my scent, rubbing the prickly hair of his stubble against my cheeks.

"You're just like every other man. Egoistic and chauvinistic." I replied dryly, trying once again to free my hands from his hold.

"You haven't been with anyone else to know that."

"I've been with enough. Not that you need to know." I lied with a straight face. And I knew my words had hit him hard, because his brows twitched and his eyes burnt with possessiveness.

"Liar," he muttered sulkily.

I giggled at his response, "Are you jealous?"

"Yes. Very." And without warning he caught my lips in his. I responded immediately like a craved brazen woman. I could feel him smile at me. And then he pressed his hips against my core, grinding them in a slow undulating motion. My eyes jerked open and I gasped in surprise. "You are so goddamn beautiful." He remarked at my reaction.

I smiled. I felt like his words kissed me.

And without a second thought, I reached for his belt. My fingers flitted over the cool metallic buckle, when a knock sounded at the door.

💎💎💎

"Ask them to leave." I turned around and grumbled to Aliyaar. I was about to leave when Aliyaar clasped my wrist, his brows gesturing me to stay.

"Your Dada Jaan and parents are here. Don't behave like a child." He chided, but I drew my brows together in a frown and huffed, knotting my arms together across my chest.

"Don't scold me." I scowled at him angrily and began walking towards the lounge. "And stop behaving like you're my Dad." And then suddenly my mood shifted and I smiled flirtatiously. "You can be my baby daddy if you want."

At this his eyes widened and he choked, coughing vehemently to mask his shock at my words. "Are you alright, Aliyaar." Safina aunty asked from across the lounge and I looked up to see everyone waiting for us. He nodded and gave me an exasperated stare before walking towards our families. I followed closely behind him, my expressions straight and subdued.

My eyes fell upon the coffee table filled with gifts and my favourite dishes. So my family was here to make up for yesterday. My plan had worked. I smiled inwardly, but my expressions remained marbleized in stone.

"Shany beta naraz hai?" Dada Jaan remarked in a sweet voice, just like he did when I was a child. But I remained silent, carefully avoiding his gaze. I felt Aliyaar nudge my side, trying to coax me to talk, but I stayed quiet silently protesting last night's events.

"Your Dada Jaan bought your favourite things. He even asked the chefs to prepare your favourite dishes." My mother tried to dampen the situation, her grey eyes oscillating between Aliyaar and me.

"Shany, what happened yesterday—"

"—should not have happened, Dad." I cut my father, my voice iced with vexation. "You all asked me to make a choice and I did. Then what is all this? Was yesterday's humiliation not enough?"

At this my parents looked at me helplessly, but Dada Jaan cleared his throat and said, "Let's play shatranj Shany, the game of kings."

I looked at my grandfather skeptically, but nodded at his unexpected request. Of all things, I hadn't expected him to ask me for a game of chess. But this was his favourite game. He had taught me how to play it several years ago. And while it wasn't a favourite of mine, I did enjoy the power it sought.

So a game was laid out in the gardens, while Aliyaar and our parents stayed inside, giving us both time to have a conversation in solitude. The sun was about to set and the tangerine hues of the sky had merged with the darkening night. We sat solemnly under the shadows, carefully examining the board.

There was no exchange. Just silence and strategies.

I knew better than to let Dada Jaan win tonight.

"I still remember when I taught you how to play shatranj."

"Chess isn't the only thing you taught me, Dada Jaan." Dada Jaan smiled, the underlying meaning of my words not missed by him. "But my family underestimates me. They forget I've learnt from the very best."

The game had been going on for a while. The beginning and end losing all its meaning.

"Perhaps that's why they are scared of you." He moved a pawn to the side of the king. "And fear is a dangerous emotion. But what begins with fear often ends with failure."  A slight glint of disappointment illuminated his darkened eyes.

"I don't wish for anyone's failure. But everyone has to pick a side. And you chose that side for me." I said, purposefully reminding him of his decision to propose my marriage with Aliyaar, . "And I will not disappoint you Dada Jaan."

"While it might not have seemed like it, I made the right choice for you, Shany. And your decision yesterday only proved that I made the right decision." His deep baritone heavy, "While you might not believe me, but you have always been my favourite grandchild, Shany."

I remained silent. The declaration took me by surprise. "But I've always been a conservative man, tied down with culture and traditions. Perhaps that's why I couldn't give you the freedom you so craved. But you were always a stubborn child. You always found a way to get what you wanted. And even today, I know you won't stop until you make sure you get what you want."

"Then why can't you give me what I want?"

"Aliyaar is your husband and he is as dear to me as Zaroon is." My eyes moved to the board. We were reaching a checkmate. "I haven't forgotten what you did for me, my child. Neither have I forgotten what Aliyaar has done for this party. Had it not been for his financial support, we would have lost everything."

When I looked up, he wasn't looking at me. But I knew what he said came from his heart. We might have had our differences but I knew he loved me.

"Then why can't you—"

"It's not as easy as you think. I have to see the party member's demands, the opposition's strengths and positions, experience, party policies, etc." he tried to explain.

"But someone has to go up there. Why not Aliyaar? I promise you, the crown will remain in the family."

"As angry as I was last night, I can't help but admit, Aliyaar is one conniving politician. He is cut for this. It's your turn, Shany beta."

I looked at the board. And moved my horse.The game was locked. My king was protected.

"The queen always protects the king. I've always hated this game, but if I have to play it, I'd rather be the queen of his game," I glanced towards Aliyaar, who was watching me with a concerned expression, "than be a pawn in someone else's." I could see the curiosity shining in his eyes.

"You played well Shany. But it seems like we've reached a stalemate." He looked at the board thoughtfully. "Perhaps if I move the wazir here—"

"My queen is right there." I pointed out. "You'd lose the wazir." Surely he wasn't thinking of sacrificing his wazir.

"I can take a risk if that helps me secure a victory." And with that he got up from his seat. I looked at him surprised.

"What do you mean?"

"Watch the news tonight, Shanzae. And come home tomorrow for lunch. Your whole family will be waiting for you."

💎💎💎

8:00 pm Pak News:

"We bring to you the latest from the PUP headquarters, Ibrahim Malik, Vice President of the Pakistan United Party and Chief Minister of Punjab has offered his resignation from his party position as Vice President. I repeat PUP Vice President Ibrahim Malik has offered his resignation..."

The rest of the voice drowned in the background. Inconsequential. We were a step closer up victory. I turned to Aliyaar and smiled.

Who knew a game of shatranj was all it would take.

Note: In the first version of the update, the scene from the shrine was not explicit and clear. I'm thankful to the two readers who  pointed out that it almost seemed that S&A were praying to the saint, which is shrik, a grave sin. You can only pray to Allah. Shrines are an important part of Pakistani culture and several people go there for different purposes. And there are different school of thoughts regarding what is allowed and not allowed. I do no wish to delve into greater details, but for the purpose of this book, the characters only visited the place to offer charity. If you have any questions message me privately.

I swear they were this 👌🏼 close this time. I don't know why they keep getting interrupted. How was today's update. Let me know your thoughts.

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Until next time keep me in your prayers.

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