Saad had not realized the weight behind the word "Heir" until their car entered the gates of the enormous "Shahnewaz Haveli."

The cobblestone driveway stretched long enough to park the fleet of cars that followed theirs, full of armed bodyguards. The haveli itself surrounded the front lawn from all sides giving the onlookers a good guess of its sheer size. The age-old gigantic structure loomed over them menacingly like its owner.

As the car came to a halt in front of its wooden entrance, Saad could see Murtasim standing outside his car with an old man behind him. This was probably Bhaktu.

"This place is huge," Neelu whispered from her seat next to him in awe. Maheer also seemed to be looking at her surroundings with interest. She hadn't said much to him since the beginning of their journey to the haveli.

Saad couldn't help but feel hurt at her silence towards him.

Bhaktu opened the door for him before he could. His kind eyes were full of excitement as they looked over Saad. The wrinkled eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Welcome to the haveli, Malik," he greeted Saad with an affectionate smile.

Malik. The word was simple yet everyone here said it with so much pride.

Saad felt another wave of guilt hit him. He realized leaving this place might not be as easy as he thought.

Sighing, Saad got out of the car to see his parents and aunt already waiting for them. His mother had stopped crying while his father just looked tired. His aunt was looking at everything with curiosity.

Hmm, that didn't sit right with him.

Neelu and Maheer were busy whispering while pointing at different flowers on the beautifully groomed front lawn.

Murtasim stood with his hands behind his back, his shades back on his eyes.

Were his eyes really that sensitive? It was almost past noon, for God's sake!

With a nod, he ordered Saad to follow him inside the castle-like house. Reluctantly Saad started to walk along with his family.

As they walked next to a large pool, he could feel the shocked eyes and hear the gasps of surprise around him. The whispers grew louder and louder as they kept going on.

"I see that the budget for the servant's salary needs some altercation," Murtasim said as he walked without bothering to look at anyone.

And suddenly, all the whispers died down and people went back to work as if their eyes had never seen him in the first place.

Murtasim, too, kept walking without a pause. If anyone was on his way, then they would scurry away like rats. Not once did Murtasim stop for anyone.

What kind of place was this? Did people here need Murtasim's permission to breathe as well?

As they went further inside, the grand haveli revealed its luxurious secrets. Starting from the simple showpiece to the framed paintings on the corridor walls seemed to cost more than Saad's yearly salary. Their shoes squeaked on the crystal-clean floor as they marched towards a sitting area.

A woman was seated there looking into some kinds of ledgers. Servents surrounded her as they handed her similar books to look at.

"Maa," Murtasim whispered next to him. He nudged Saad to go forward.

Stealing himself, Saad walked inside. Under the facade, however, he was a ball of nerves. He could hear the woman talk about budgets.

Probably hearing his footsteps, she looked behind and a smile appeared on her face. She was an elegant woman. Perfectly groomed and dressed finely like her son. Her gold jewelry sparkled under the brightly lit chandelier.

Age hasn't diminished her beauty, instead had enhanced it with a regal touch.

"Murtasim! Where were you, son?" She spoke with a shake of her head. Her smile was still in place.

She looked at him expectantly for an answer until her eyes racked over him. The smile faltered as confusion colored her face.

She slowly got up from her seat and took calculative steps towards him. Her eyes searched desperately for answers to all the questions that must've been going around her head.

"Maa?" Murtasim revealed himself from behind him. The lady stopped in her tracks.

She took in her son and him standing next to each other and for a moment, just stared at them in complete silence. A pin-drop silence settled in the room, replacing its previous hustle and bustle.

"Maa?" Murtasim called for his mother again. This time she reacted.

As if a trance was broken, the lady burst out in tears. She held onto a piece of furniture to steady her as emotions overwhelmed her. Murtasim and he both ran to help the sobbing woman out.

As soon as he touched her, she jolted away in surprise. Her teary eyes looked at him in wonder. She looked towards Murtasim for answers. He gave her a soft smile in return with a nod.

Taking it to be her queue, the aged lady hugged him and sobbed into his shirt.

She barely came up to his chest yet for some reason, her presence felt so much bigger to Saad. He could feel himself tearing up at the pain of this unknown woman.

She held him as she kept on mumbling incoherent words into his chest. Her one hand was clutching onto his shirt, just like his mother, while the other was holding onto Murtasim.

Saad realized she was scared.

Even after twenty-seven years, she was still scared that one of them might be taken away if she didn't hold them tight enough. The world had left a scar so deep on the heart of a young new mother, that it never got to heal properly.

So Saad did what he never wanted to do.

Slowly he raised his hand and patted her on the back as he whispered the word he might not be able to take back.

"Maa?"

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Maheer sat next to Saad on the sofa as his mother kept on crying and fawning over him.

His mother.

Maheer was not sure what to do in this situation. She didn't even know how to react to this whole revelation. She didn't know anything anymore.

So she did what she could. She held onto Saad's hand as he let his newfound mother shower him with love.

Every time the woman referred to herself as Saad's mother, his hand around her would tighten. Underneath his soft smile, Saad was confused too. That made her even more nervous.

Maheer looked around the gorgeous living room they were seated in. The stained glass windows, the wall full of paintings, the silver showpieces- everything about this house was overwhelming to her.

The lady, Maa Begum, had laid out a table full of gifts. Twenty- seven gifts for the twenty-seven birthdays she missed.

The huge collection of gifts consisted of stuff ranging from children's toys and books to vintage watches and lands.

Yes, lands. As birthday gifts.

Maheer could not fathom exactly what this family was!

Most of all, Maheer could not fathom what this Murtasim was.

He looked exactly like her Saad yet he was an enigma. He sat across from his mother with an adoring smile. Yet Maheer was sure she heard him whisper something about guns on his phone.

Maheer felt it in her bones. This family was much more than just glittering haveli and a loving mother.

"So who would you be, my dear?" Anwar Khan, Saad's supposed uncle, spoke for the first time since their arrival.

Maheer was shocked to realize that the question was directed toward her since all they seem to care about was Saad. They had ignored everyone else from the beginning.

"I am Maheer," she managed to squeak out under the scrutiny of both Murtasim and his uncle.

"She is my wife," Saad said all of a sudden, surprising everyone in the room. "Maheer is my wife."

Maheer was yet to figure out what it meant to be Saad's wife. Their relationship was one of sacrifice. No matter what Saad said, it was and will always be a burden on his already heavy shoulders.

Maheer in her girly dreams of fairytale love had managed to snatch away Saad's shot at finding love in marriage.

She could the realization draw on Murtasim as his sharp eyes moved towards their joint hands. Anwar was back to his contemplating quietness.

But Maa Begum looked as if she was hit by a brick.

"You are his wife?" She asked in a whisper. Her voice held so much pain for all the things she missed in Saad's life.

'Yes," Saad was again there to her rescue.

"Oh!" She looked taken back. Her eyes racked over Maheer. She had never felt so self-conscious of her simple white attire in her whole life.

Maheer could feel the disappointment from her.

Maa Begum did not like her.

"Whose daughter might you be, child?" Maa Begum asked her sweetly, the loving smile was back on her lips.

Whose daughter?

'Maheer is my cousin," Saad answered for her again.

"Oh, I see. That's good," she exclaimed with a false cheer.

It was not good.

For the first time in her life, Maheer felt like Saad was above her station.

Her heart thumped as the realizations came to her.

Saad was the son of this golden palace. Maheer was just a girl in white.

Saad was suddenly a fairytale prince and princes never came for girls like her.

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