Vows Of Vengeance

Chapter 38

Zaviyar entered the house, followed closely by Waqas who tailed behind him before stopping near the entrance. Waqas flashed him a thumbs up and said, " All the best boss... "

Zaviyar gave a small nod in response before walking through the hallway with measured steps, careful not to draw too much attention to himself.

His plan was to quietly slip into his room but he halted mid-step when he realized his entire family was sitting in the living room. Everyone except his wife.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Khwaish and Kabir bickering on the couch, their argument clearly more playful than serious, while Nauman and Riffat sat across them, laughing at their antics. The soft echo of Zaviyar's footsteps made them all turn their heads at once.

Khwaish had come over a few days ago since her holidays had started and now every pair of eyes was fixed on him in disbelief.

The great Nawab of Azamgarh, who was always alert, intimidating, always carrying a gun tucked inside his coat.

.. now, stood there wearing a beige muffler wrapped around his neck, the same one his wife had insisted on tying for him in the morning.

In one hand, he held a bouquet of flowers.

In the other, a neatly packed bag. He looked less like a feared man of power and more like someone who was going on a date. For a moment, the room was dead silent.

Flashback

Zaviyar had to go to the city for some accounts related work, so he had gotten up early, around 6 a.m. He had expected the house to be quiet but instead, he froze in shock when he saw Safiya in the bathroom.

She was wearing a bunny headband, a face mask smeared across her cheeks, sipping red tea from a glass while dancing lightly to some music playing in the background. Completely lost in her own world.

He couldn't help but blush when he realized she was wearing nothing but a white tank top and black shorts, twirling in front of the mirror with small, carefree steps. But his heart nearly stopped when her eyes suddenly met his reflection in the mirror. She gasped.

" Pervert!!! ", she screamed before sprinting towards the door and slamming it shut on his face, not even giving him a chance to explain himself.

Later, after much sulking and dramatic sighs, he apologized to his wife who by then had completely forgotten why she had called him a pervert in the first place.

Poor Zaviyar had now learned a very important life lesson-'it was always better to apologize to his wife than to let her stay angry. '

He was about to get into the car when he paused, hearing someone call him from behind.

" Zaviyar.... Ruko...", he stopped near the entrance and turned around only to see her quickly hurrying down the stairs, almost missing a step in her rush. Her dupatta was missing, hair still in a hair towel as she descended the stairs, her expression a mix of urgency and concern.

(Zaviyar.... Wait...)

She approached him and instinctively scanned him from head to toe, her eyes narrowing the moment she took in his outfit.

He was dressed entirely in black, a crisp black shirt tucked neatly into black pants, and a dark brown coat thrown over his shoulders.

He looked effortlessly handsome, intimidating even but to her he just looked careless.

Despite all that power and authority he carried, she knew one simple truth, that this man would fall sick the second he caught a little cold.

Without saying anything, she stepped closer and rose on her tiptoes, her hands forwarding a beige muffler.

Zaviyar froze, his body going still as her fingers brushed against his collarbone.

She adjusted the muffler carefully, wrapping it tighter around his neck, making sure no skin was left exposed.

" Itni sardi hai aur tum ese hee nikal rahe ho? " she muttered under her breath, more worried than annoyed.

(It's so cold outside and you are going out just like that? )

[ Honestly I have completely lost what season I was writing the book in at this point ????? so conveniently seasons change karungi. ]

He looked down at her, surprised, his sharp eyes softening instantly at the sight of her fussing over him. Her brows were furrowed in concentration as she tucked the ends of the muffler neatly into his coat, patting his chest lightly once she was satisfied.

" Aise hi bahar gaye na toh seedha bimar padoge. Phir bolna mat ke maine warning nahi di thi. ", Zaviyar let out a small breath, something between a laugh and a sigh.

( If you go out like this you will end up falling sick. Then don't say that I didn't take care of you or warm you. )

" Okay, mateh maaf karein. " he said quietly, pure mockery in his tone but laced in warmth. She glared at him for a second before her lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

( okay, I'm sorry mother. )

" Agar tum meri baat sunna shuru kar do, toh shayad mujhe ban'na hi na pade.

", For a moment, neither of them moved. The world felt oddly still.

Zaviyar lifted his hand slowly, hesitating for half a second before placing it over hers, which was still resting on his chest. Her heartbeat jumped instantly at the contact.

( if you start listening to me then I don't have to act like your mother. )

" Jaldi wapas aana, " she said softly, her voice losing its earlier sharpness. " Late mat hona. ", His grip on her hand tightened just a little.

( Come home early. )

( Don't be late. )

" Tumne kaha hai, toh late hone ka sawaal hi nahi. ", She nodded, pretending to be unaffected, but her fingers unconsciously curled into his coat. Zaviyar leaned forward slightly, not close enough to cross any line, but close enough for her to feel his breath.

( There's no question of being late, after you say that. )

" Darwaze tak chhod do, pleaze... " he pleaded, half-teasing and half begging.

( Walk me till the porch, please.. )

She rolled her eyes but still walked with him to the door.

As he stepped out, she stood there watching him, arms crossed loosely around herself.

Zaviyar turned back once more, taking in the image of her standing at the threshold, hair slightly messy, eyes still filled with worry just for him.

He touched the muffler around his neck, a faint smile forming on his lips.

" Agar bimar pada, toh zimmedar aapki. ", She scoffed.

( If I fall sick, then I'll be under your care. )

" that is if I let you fall sick. ", He chuckled under his breath before finally leaving. From the rear view mirror, he watched as his wife stood at the threshold watching his car leave the premises and he realised how he started loving this.

Flashback ends

" I'll g-go and freshen up...", he mumbled before scurrying away, suddenly feeling shy and exposed after being caught in such a vulnerable moment. He climbed up the stairs and entered his room, only to be completely blown away by the sight in front of him.

Safiya was sitting on the jai-namaz, offering her Isha prayer.

For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. She was dressed in a baby pink abaya with an off-white headscarf, only her face visible.

There was a strange calm around her, an almost divine stillness.

Moonlight slipped through the window, falling gently on her features, making her skin glow softly.

[ Pta nhi inn books mein inko yeh moonlight kha se milti hain ?? play the song Maula mere maula for this part. ]

He quietly placed the gifts he had bought for her on the couch before taking slow, careful steps toward her, as if afraid he might break the moment.

He kneeled down beside her, observing her face from close.

She looked to the right, then suddenly her eyes widened and she turned to the left, realizing his presence.

She completed her namaaz with Zaviyar watching her.

Then she started making her dua, her lips moving softly in whispered prayers.

It took her almost a full minute before she finally finished.

When she turned to look at him, she found him staring at her with such pure admiration that her cheeks instantly turned pink. Safiya liked to offer her prayers without anyone watching. For some reason she felt at ease when alone.

Meanwhile Zaviyar was looking at her star-gazed. All he wanted, desperately so, was to rest his head in her lap and forget the world for a while.

" Can i lay down on your lap for a few minutes?

", he asked suddenly, his voice unusually gentle.

She was too shy to argue. She simply nodded.

She scooted closer to the bed and leaned her back against the bedside cabinet.

Zaviyar carefully lowered his head onto her thighs, his face resting against her stomach, as if he had found his safest place in the world.

Safiya felt a slight tickle at the weight of his head and didn't know what to do. Her hands hovered awkwardly in the air, itching to touch him but unsure if she should. Just then, she felt Zaviyar's hand slide over hers. He held it gently and placed it on his head.

She gasped internally.

'Did he just snuggle into me?', she felt butterflies in her stomach. A tingling sensation erupted within her, as Zaviyar's hot breath fanned against her stomach. Oweing to the light material of her cotton kurta, she could feel even the slightest of movements.

He shifted slightly, nuzzling closer to her, his forehead pressing against her stomach. Safiya finally let her fingers sink into his soft curls, and her insides melted when he let out a quiet, content moan, relaxing completely under her touch.

Before either of them realized it, sleep had claimed them both. Zaviyar curled up on her lap like a child and Safiya resting her head back against the cabinet, her fingers still tangled in his hair. The room was silent, peaceful and warm with a kind of intimacy neither of them had words for yet.

___________________________

" Zavi... Beta uth jaao", Zaviyar blinked slowly as consciousness seeped back into him.

(Zavi... wake up, my child.)

The first thing he saw was a woman above him, clad in a soft pink abaya, her presence almost unreal.

The light filtering through the curtains fell perfectly on her face, making her look radiant, glowing in a way that felt too beautiful to be real.

For a second, he thought he was still dreaming.

His eyes squinted, vision hazy as he lifted his hand to touch her face just to make sure she existed.

Only for his eyes to snap open completely as he realized his hand was stretched out in thin air and his body was tipping. He caught sight of his wife at the last moment, who was about to lose her balance because of him.

He slowly steadied himself and placed his palm against her cheek instead, his touch gentle and instinctive.

Safiya leaned into his hand unconsciously, nuzzling her face into his palm as she let out small, content puffs of breath.

She looked almost ethereal like this and he couldn't help but stare.

It was as if the world had paused just for him, allowing him to memorize her features in this quiet moment.

" Hmmmm... ", Safiya moaned in her sleep, probably caught in some strange, chaotic dream of her own.

One of her cheeks was puffed out adorably, her lips curved into a slight pout nd her lashes fluttered faintly.

Zaviyar smiled without realizing, his heart doing something unfamiliar at the sight of her, so peaceful.

He straightened abruptly when she slowly began to wake up. Her eyes opened halfway before widening in shock as she realized his head was still resting on her lap. She gasped and nearly kicked him out of reflex, had his head not been so heavy. Zaviyar quickly got up from her lap.

" I will freshen up.", he said, composing himself with a forced calm before walking into the bathroom, leaving her sitting there completely confused, still trying to process what had even happened.

Safiya was fixing the bed sheets when she saw Zaviyar approaching her again. This time, he had something in his hands. She tilted her head in confusion when she noticed the bouquet. The same one she had earlier seen lying on the couch. Her brows lifted in realization. So it was for her?

" Uhm- this- ", Zaviyar hesitantly extended the bouquet toward her, his fingers tightening around the stems like he might change his mind. She accepted it with a warm smile and then he handed her the bag he was carrying as well. Her hair was down, framing her face softly.

She looked beautiful like this, effortlessly so. But he would be lying if he said he didn't miss the version of her in the abaya. The one that had looked almost unreal, glowing like something divine.

" Well, thank you for these. ", she brought the flowers closer and inhaled their fragrance with a pleased sigh. She quickly fetched a vase, emptied the water jug into it, and arranged the bouquet carefully as if it were something precious.

" Isme kya hain? ", she asked, holding up the bag curiously, already trying to peek inside.

(What's inside this?)

" Dekh lijiye... ", he leaned casually against the side table, pretending to be relaxed while secretly watching her face shift through a hundred expressions as she dug into the bag.

(See for yourself.)

" Omg... Omg... ", she practically squealed, her excitement impossible to hide.

" Woh- kya tum... ", Zaviyar fidgeted, feeling all jumpy and mushy inside.

(Uh-can you...)

" You want to say something? ", she asked seeing him, looking at her as if he was trying to say something.

" Willyougoonadatewithme? ", Safiya's ear shot up, and for a minute she thought she heard wrong.

" What? "

" Woh gaon mein ek mela hain... Aur mein kal gaon ka muaina karne jaa rha hu. Mujhe tasdeeq karni hai ke sab kuch theek aur qanooni tareeqe se ho raha hai. ", Zaviyar ranted like it was a by-hearted answer.

(There is a fair in the village... and I'm going there tomorrow for inspection. I need to confirm that everything is happening properly and legally.)

" Muai- Maui? Moana ka maui? ", Safiya scratched the back of neck, totally confused.

(Muai-Maui? Maui from Moana?)

" Muaina... ", Zaviyar repeated.

(Inspection.)

" And tareekh kyu chahiye tumhe. Tumhe hee kaha na kal hain.. ", she said tilting her head.

(And why do you need time? You're the one who said na that it's tomorrow anyway.)

" Tasdeeq, matlab... investigate karna. ", Zaviyar internally sighed. Was his wife that dumb?

(Tasdeeq, meaning... investigate.)

" Thore easy words use kiya karon. ", she said, shrugging like it was his fault entirely.

(Try using easier words.)

" Also do you want me to tag along? ", she asked turning to him.

" Tumhe aana hain touh aa sakti ho, mein force nhi karunga. Khanum ke aude se tumhe bhi aana chahiye. Lekin mein soch rha tha hum gaon valo ki poshaq pehenke jayenge. ", he muttered in a cold tone. But his head was in a frenzy.

(If you want to come, you can. I won't force you. Given your position as a Khanum, you should come as well. But I was thinking we'd wear village-style clothes.)

'Haan bolo please please....', he prayed internally.

(Say yes please, please...)

" Tum isse ek date samajh sakti ho. ", he said seeing sceptical, probably thinking over the proposal.

(You can consider this a date.)

" Thik hain... Mein chalungi kyuki tum mujhe pehli baar date peh leh jaa rahe ho. ", she agreed.

(Alright... I'll come because you're taking me on a date for the first time.)

" Lekin tumhe suddenly yeh khayal kese aaya? ", Zaviyar scratched his head not knowing what would be the appropriate answer to his wife who wouldn't hesitate to tease him any chance she got.

(But how did you suddenly get this idea?)

" Tumne hee touh boyfriend banaya tha... "

(You were the one who made me your boyfriend...)

Safiya smiled, amused and oddly touched, as she saw Zaviyar almost sprint toward the washroom just to avoid her teasing gaze. It fascinated her how he could flirt so smoothly one moment, and then turn into a shy, awkward boy the very next.

Meanwhile, Zaviyar shut the washroom door behind him with a quiet thud and leaned against it, letting out a long breath. The playful atmosphere faded as his mind drifted back to the memories from the base that morning.

Flashback

Zaviyar and Agastya stood quietly as Waqas remained in the corner, visible scratch marks stretched across his face.

It looked almost comical, as if a cat had attacked him in a sudden burst of rage.

On repeated insistence and endless staring, Waqas finally admitted, rather sheepishly that the artwork on his face was done by none other than his wife.

Apparently, Waqas had become too burdened with work ever since Zaviyar's injury. He had drowned himself in responsibilities, meetings and files, unknowingly neglecting his wife in the process. And now, his face carried the consequences of that neglect.

" Sir, aap touh kabhi Safiya ko- ", Waqas began without thinking. Zaviyar shot him a sharp glare for taking her name so casually.

(Sir, you don't even take Safiya-)

" I mean ma'am ko kabhi date peh lejana chhoro gift bhi nhi dete. Agar aapko ek achchi life chahiye then make sure to keep your wife happy... ", Waqas advised, his tone unusually serious.

(You don't even take ma'am on dates, forget gifts.If you want a good life, keep your wife happy.)

Zaviyar frowned slightly, his mind drifting. He had thought of taking Safiya out before. Many times, actually. But every time, the same doubt stopped him.

What if she got bored with him? What if she realized he wasn't enough? What if she thought he wasn't the one for her?

So he had chosen the easier path: staying distant, keeping things unchanged. But now, listening to Waqas, something shifted inside him.

" Baat touh sahi hain bande ki... ", Agastya commented through the camera, grinning.

(The guy is actually right.)

" So kha ki ticket book karu? Thailand? Hawaii? Goa? Mauritius? ", he continued, already plotting to emotionally and financially traumatize his friend.

(So where should I book the tickets? Thailand? Hawaii? Goa? Mauritius?)

" Abhi ke liye chup hoja... ", Zaviyar snapped, making Agastya shrug dramatically.

(Shut up for now.)

" Aap gaon ke mele mein jaa sakte hai... ", Waqas suggested casually. Zaviyar hummed thoughtfully.

(You could go to the village fair.)

" Lekin mein usse kahunga kya... ", he muttered, more to himself than to them. Would she even agree? He had literally scolded her when she asked him to be her boyfriend.

(But what will I even tell her...)

But she is my wife... I can go wherever I want with her, his conscience reminded him firmly.

" Yahi ki tu usse date peh leh jaa rha hain... ", Agastya deadpanned, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

(That you're taking her on a date.)

" Aur gift kya du? ", Zaviyar mumbled again.

(And what gift should I give her?)

" Bhai dekh, woh teri biwi hain. Mujhe touh meri hone vaali biwi ki pasand pta hain. Tu apna dekh leh. ", Agastya said, leaning back with a smirk.

(Bro, look-she's your wife. Even I know what my future wife likes. You should figure yours out.)

Zaviyar, however, was already on his phone, ordering a few things he knew she would like. He stood up abruptly and headed out of the office.

" Waqas jis speed se yeh banda jaa rha hain na. Jab tak iske bachche isse baba kahenge tab tak tumhare bachcho ke bachche isse nana ji bolne lagenge. ", Agastya muttered as they watched Zaviyar leave.

(Waqas, at the speed this guy is moving, by the time his kids call him 'father,' your grandchildren will start calling him 'grandfather.')

Only for both their jaws to drop when Zaviyar raised his hand and showed them a middle finger without turning back.

Yes. It was the WIFE EFFECT.

The posh, polished, royal Heir of the Khan Empire had officially started absorbing his wife's habits.

Flashback ends...

_____________________________________

Zaviyar tapped his foot impatiently, leaning against the fence of the back garden.

He was dressed in an all-black outfit, sharp and composed, yet internally restless.

Safiya was taking an awfully long time to get ready, and with every passing second, his heartbeat seemed to grow louder.

Then he heard her.

The sift giggle she let out. Before he could even register it, he watched a girl descend the stairs through the back door of the mansion, followed by Rida and Mansi.

She wore a white anarkali, detailed with intricate embroidery and soft flecks of color along the borders. It made her look like a swan in motion, as if wings had unfurled around her. The sheer dupatta covered her head and slipped down to her lips, held lightly by slender fingers.

Tiny pearls traced its edges, swaying with every step she took.

Even though her face was concealed, Zaviyar couldn't help but stare.

There was something dangerously mesmerizing about her simplicity.

His gaze held her captive. The curve of her brow, the sharpness hidden behind softness, the confidence in her posture.

Her kohl-lined eyes shimmered like honeyed seas, pulling him in relentlessly. He was thankful he had covered his own face with the keffiyah.

At least this way, she couldn't see how completely undone he was. He could write pages of shayari for her in this moment alone.

Zaviyar's lips twitched behind the fabric as he struggled to breathe normally, wanting to lift the keffiyah just to inhale properly. The staff silently watched as their intimidating boss turned red simply by looking at his wife.

Safiya finally reached him and looked up, visibly shocked.

He stood wrapped in black, head to toe. A black keffiyah concealed his face, leaving only his dark, obsidian eyes visible. They stayed fixed on her, unwavering. A patterned scarf rested on his shoulders, heavy and controlled, adding to his intimidating presence.

He looked exactly like the masked men from her dark romance novels.

( ?????? didn't find a picture to match my description)

'1000/10!! Would smash!', she thought.

" You all stay behind. Don't let people find out that it's us and watch from afar for any any signs of harm. ", he instructed his men, who nodded before disappearing through the back door.

Zaviyar turned to Safiya, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her head with careful fingers.

" Chalein? ", She nodded, cheeks flushed from the sudden intimacy.

(Shall we go?)

" You were scolding us for using a secret door to go on the bike ride but you have a secret door too. ", she teased, completely unaware that her husband was seconds away from emotionally collapsing.

And Zaviyar realized something terrifying.

He wasn't just taking her on a date.

He was falling for his own wife, again!

" Double standards dikh rahe hain aapke. ", she said, crossing her arms, her tone half-amused and half-accusing, as she tilted her head slightly to look at him.

(I can see your double standards.)

" Room mein chaliye aapko double standards dikhata hu... ", he deadpanned, staring at her while leaning down just enough to invade her personal space, his voice low and deliberate, " Practically... "

(Come to the room, I'll show you double standards... practically.)

He was towering over her now, his presence almost suffocating, when she suddenly slipped under his arm with a mischievous gasp and sprinted out of the door, leaving Zaviyar to blink for a second before following her at an unhurried pace.

As both of them got out, Safiya was frantically shaking her head in search of their mode of transport, her eyes scanning the road anxiously. Just then she saw an auto-rickshaw stop in front of them.

It was the kind that had the driver in the front, then a seat for passengers to sit facing the driver and another seat facing away from the driver, facing the opposite side.

She looked at the vehicle in surprise, just when the driver put his head out and waved at them cheerfully. As the vehicle got closer, Safiya squinted her eyes, only to notice that the one driving it was Waqas.

" Assalamualaikum Safi- I mean ma'am. ", Waqas quickly corrected himself, noticing the sharp glare shot his way.

(Peace be upon you, Safi- I mean ma'am.)

" Walikumassalam Waqas bhai, aap kyu chala rahe hain? You could have hired someone else. ", she said, looking at him in confusion, her brows knitting together.

(And peace be upon you too, brother Waqas. Why are you driving? You could have hired someone else.)

Poor Waqas just smiled helplessly, knowing he couldn't reveal his boss's little plan of making him do all the work so he could enjoy the day with his wife.

After years of working with Zaviyar, Waqas had always admired his dedication, but today he realised how indeed Zaviyar was finally starting to think about something other than work.

" Chalein? ", Zaviyar asked, making Safiya nod almost instantly.

(Shall we go?)

He offered his hand to her, which she accepted without hesitation, and he gently guided her towards the seat of the rickshaw.

Then he sat beside her, really close, his shoulder brushing against hers. He wound his right arm behind her, partly to shield her from the bumps they might come across and partly just to keep her close. Either way, it felt like a win-win situation for him.

As they set off, Safiya kept staring back at the mansion.

It grew smaller and smaller as they moved farther away from it, until it looked almost unreal, like something from a distant memory.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Zaviyar, and suddenly her breath hitched because Zaviyar was looking at her intently, his gaze unreadable yet oddly warm.

" Gaon mein humeh ek dusre koun alag naamo se bulana hoga... ", Zaviyar said casually, making her nod in understanding.

(In the village, we'll have to csll each other by different names.)

" Aap mujhe kya bulayenge? ", she asked, genuinely curious, as she watched them pass the beautiful bright yellow mustard fields that looked like a sea of gold under the sunlight.

(What will you call me?)

" Jouh mein tumhe bachpan mein bulaya karta tha, Safi... ", he murmured, his eyes still focused on her, while she remained lost in the scenic beauty outside.

(What I used to call you in childhood, Safi...)

" Hmm... Touh mein aapko kya bulau? ", she tapped her chin thoughtfully, then suddenly came up with a cute name.

(Hmm... then what should I call you?)

" Avi... ", she quipped, making him cross his brows in confusion, wondering where that came from. " Zavi will sound too familiar, so Avi... ", she added, as if trying to justify her logic.

Zaviyar simply nodded, pretending to accept it without much thought, and they both basked in each other's presence as the rickshaw slowly started to enter the village. Safiya watched as the streets suddenly grew busy.

People were everywhere, walking, talking, bargaining, laughing. It was the first time she had stepped out of the mansion to explore the village, and the excitement bubbled inside her uncontrollably.

She smiled when a few kids ran behind the rickshaw, laughing and giggling, waving at them as if they were some kind of attraction. Soon, the rickshaw entered the fairgrounds. Zaviyar got down first and then helped Safiya down, his grip firm and protective.

She stared at the crowd of people pushing and pulling to get inside quickly.

Instinctively, she held onto Zaviyar's arm, afraid she might get lost. The crowd was overwhelming.

Zaviyar smiled at her clinginess and moved to stand behind her.

He lifted his hands around her, subtly caging her from the crowd so no one could push or bump into her.

She looked up when she felt his arms on either side, only to meet her husband's eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. She immediately looked away as heat rushed to her cheeks. Zaviyar told Waqas something in a low voice, and just like that, Waqas eased off with his rickshaw.

Safiya looked around again, noticing long lines of shops on both sides. Everything looked colourful, loud, and alive. She couldn't wait to try everything out. Before she even realised it, her feet had already carried her towards the stalls.

Zaviyar, who was busy assessing the surroundings, suddenly realised his wife was missing. Panic shot through him as he looked around frantically, only to spot her disappearing into the crowd. He quickly sprinted to where she stood.

" Safi, tum gum ho jaogi.", he scolded her, but all she could focus on was how he had called her Safi. The name felt too intimate, too personal. It made something flutter inside her stomach.

( Safi, you will get lost.)

" heheee.... sorry. I actually got e

xcited. ", she said sheepishly, pointing at something in front of her. He followed her gaze and smiled when he saw it was a jewellery shop.

He gestured for her to continue, and Safiya grinned before stepping forward, immediately getting lost among the jhumkas and bangles displayed. Zaviyar stood beside her, quietly watching her excitement.

" Which one do you think will suit me? ", she asked, holding up two jhumkas-one with delicate peacock artwork and the other with a dangling design meant to hook into the back of her hair.

Zaviyar examined both carefully before saying, " Take both..."

" You don't understand yarr, mein dono nhi leh sakti. Choose one... ", The shopkeeper looked up at them, clearly intrigued by the rare sight of such a couple.

" Aapki begum angrezi bolti hain? Padhi likhi lagti hain... ", he commented, observing the way she carried herself so confidently, without being meek or shy.

(Your wife speaks English? She seems educated...)

Zaviyar simply nodded, not wanting to invite further suspicion.

" Aap dono yaha ke touh nhi lagte? Naye aaye hain kya? ", Safiya answered politely while handing over the jewellery she had selected. The shopkeeper smiled warmly at the couple, already sensing that there was something different about them.

(You both don't seem to be from here? Have you come recently?)

Zaviyar scanned through the boxes lazily, not really interested in anything in particular, when his eyes suddenly landed on a set of beautiful, unique bangles. They were delicate, with soft pastel beads and tiny silver charms hanging from them. He instinctively looked at Safiya.

She wore a simple watch on her left wrist, while her right wrist lay bare, almost like it was waiting for something.

Without saying a word, he picked up the bangles and gently caught her wrist, making her look at him with her brows drawn together in confusion. Before she could say anything, he slowly pushed the bangles over her hand and slid them onto her wrist.

Safiya couldn't help but blush at the gesture, at the way his fingers brushed her skin, at the intensity in his gaze that made her heart flutter.

She found it ridiculously cute how he was personally making her wear them.

They were beautiful, and somehow felt even more special because they came from him.

She quickly took out her phone and snapped a picture of her wrist.

"Pasand aaya aapko?", he asked, tilting his head slightly.

(Did you like it?)

"They're beautiful... thank you. I always wanted to wear pretty bangles, you know,", she said softly, admiring her wrist while Zaviyar got lost in her smile through the sheer fabric of her dupatta.

A sudden cough broke their little bubble.

Zaviyar turned to the man irritably before pulling out his wallet, handing him a thick stack of five hundred rupee notes.

"Keep the change."

The man's eyes widened. The bangles and jhumkas together were hardly worth five hundred, and here this man had handed him a whole stack.

"Sahab itne zyada paise-"

(Sir, this is too much-)

"Is this enough for all these?", he asked, pointing casually at the boxes of bangles.

The man looked stunned but slowly nodded.

Zaviyar glanced at the corner where one of his men stood lazily. He gestured for him to take the boxes before turning back to Safiya only to panic when he realized she was gone.

"Yeh ladki... ek baar isse nazrein hatao aur durghatna ghat jaati hai,", he muttered under his breath, scanning the crowd.

(This girl... look away for one second and disaster happens)

And then he spotted her, at a stall on the opposite side. Itbwas a game stall.

He shook his head with a tired sigh before jogging towards her. Wrapping his hand around her arm, he pulled her back gently but firmly, making her bump into his chest. He turned her around and started scolding her in a low but furious voice.

"Why did you run away, huh? Maine mana kiya hai na. Gum gayi toh main kya karunga?", he chided, angry with her.

(Why did you run away, huh? I told you not to. If you get lost, what am I supposed to do?)

They were adults, they had phones but Safiya wasn't familiar with Azamgarh at all. If she actually got lost, she wouldn't even know how to explain her location. She felt guilty for making him worry.

Zaviyar exhaled sharply, then suddenly an idea struck him. He took the end of her dupatta, wrapped it around his wrist and tied a small knot.

"Ab aap kahin nahi bhaag sakti,", he said, lifting his wrist to show her.

(Now you can't run anywhere)

"You are tied to me now, Safi...", Safiya coughed softly, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. The sight of her flustered face only made her look cuter in his eyes. She turned away quickly and pointed at a stall.

"Let's go, I want to eat puchka,", she said, tugging him along. Zaviyar followed, resigned. Safiya took the plate eagerly while Zaviyar shook his head, already knowing he wasn't touching street food.

"Make it spicy. If you have ghost pepper then please add it,", she said, practically glowing with excitement.

"Tum nahi khaoge?", she asked, turning to him.

(You won't eat?)

Zaviyar frantically shook his head after seeing the amount of spice being added.

He quietly took out his phone and clicked a few pictures of her. She looked adorable, cheeks flushed, eyes shining, completely lost in her food.

When she finished, the vendor handed her a sweet puchka. Before she could eat it, Zaviyar lifted the side of his keffiyeh mask, leaned down and ate the last sweet puchka straight from her hand, even licking the drop of syrup from her thumb.

Safiya froze, eyes wide, staring at him in pure shock as he shamelessly romanced her in the middle of the crowd. She looked around nervously, but no one seemed to notice.

"Aapne woh kyun khayi?", she asked with puppy eyes.

(Why did you eat that?)

Zaviyar leaned closer and murmured, "I was craving something sweeter... but this will suffice for now."

His gaze lingered on her lips as he chewed, making her heart race for reasons she didn't want to acknowledge.

Soon they moved to the ice-cream stall. Safiya got herself three scoops and happily walked beside him, watching puppet shows, snake charmers and magicians performing tricks.

By the time they reached the fountain in the middle of the fair, her feet were tired but her heart was light. And then her eyes landed on another stall, with rifles and targets. She walked towards it instinctively. Zaviyar followed.

"How much?", she asked. The man didn't even look up properly.

"This is not for women. Move along.", Safiya stiffened.

"You don't decide that for me,", she snapped, slamming her hand on the table while Zaviyar stood behind her, arms crossed, silently letting his wife start her war.

"100 rupees for five bullets,", she noted calmly before handing him the note. The man barked out a laugh, shaking his head mockingly.

"Even women nowadays think they can handle guns,", he scoffed.

The small crowd around the stall burst into laughter with him.

Safiya smiled faintly, not offended, not nervous, just quietly focused.

She lifted the rifle and aimed at the target.

But when she fired, the bullet bounced off the balloon and fell uselessly to the ground.

Laughter erupted again. Some people almost fell off the stools they were sitting on, while others started placing bets.

"Mere hazaar... yeh haaregi,", someone shouted.

(I bet a thousand, she will lose)

"Iske shohar ko dekho, iska dupatta haath pe baandh rakha hai,", another man laughed.

(Look at her husband, he has tied her dupatta to his hand)

"Kaisa besharam aadmi hai, biwi ke haath mein bandook de raha hai.

Main hota toh dusri shaadi kar leta,", someone else commented loudly.

Zaviyar remained completely unbothered. He stood behind her, leaning against the pole, arms relaxed, expression unreadable.

He did not speak, he did not interfere, he did not react

(What a shameless man, letting his wife hold a gun. If it were me, I would marry again)

He trusted his wife. He knew that stepping in would not make her feel protected, it would only make her feel small.

Safiya was not dependent on him to shield her from the world.

She knew how to stand for herself. And reacting to people whose words did not align with his reality would only mean giving power to their ignorance.

The soft fabric of her dupatta wrapped around his wrist made him feel strangely grounded. It reminded him that she was close. With him. And watching her stand there calmly made his chest swell with quiet pride.

"I know you can do it, sweetheart,", he thought silently, his eyes fixed on her back.

Safiya took a deep breath before scanning the board full of balloons. Not a single balloon had popped so far.

That was intentional, she knew these games were designed to make people lose. Her eyes moved carefully until she spotted a cluster where multiple balloons were tightly stuck together. She focused on the one in the centre.

If that popped, the pressure would collapse the others around it. She lifted the rifle again, adjusting her grip. This time she did not aim at the middle of the balloon. She tilted the barrel slightly and focused on the knot, the part that was already stretched thin. The weakest point.

She knew the bullets were blunt. That was the trick. The thicker part of the balloon would always bounce them off. Cheap tricks. That was how these stalls survived.

And then she pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit just above the knot. The balloon burst instantly but Safiya did not stop. She immediately aimed for the surrounding balloons before they could stabilize, firing one after the other in quick succession.

She lowered the rifle and looked at the vendor.

He stood frozen, his hand halfway inside the drawer, staring at her like he had just seen a ghost. The same men who laughed earlier were now cheering loudly.

The ones who had bet against her were whispering that she got lucky.

The vendor stammered, clearly panicking.

"It was a fluke. Y-you cheated. Do it again. Yes, do it again,", he insisted.

Safiya simply shrugged.

She placed another hundred rupee note on the table, picked up the rifle again and repeated the same process. And just like that five more balloons popped.

"Want me to do it again?", she asked calmly. The vendor shook his head hysterically. Fear had completely replaced arrogance on his face. One more round and he would be in real loss.

Safiya turned around with a soft smile.

Zaviyar walked up to her, placing a gentle hand on her head, then wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side. Pride shimmered in his eyes.

Safiya moved forward to select her gifts. Eight cute plushies caught her attention immediately. But then something else glimmered at the farthest corner of the stall.

"Aapki ek aur gift baaki hai,", the vendor said nervously, hoping she would choose something small.

(You still have one gift left)

Safiya pointed towards the shining object.

"Woh wala dijiye,", she said.