Noor Jahan Sneaks Out of the Mansion
As soon as the final echo of hoofbeats and the carriage's gilded wheels faded into the distance, silence swept over the Mirza mansion. Noor Jahan stood by her window in the upper chamber, watching the last glimpse of her parents and cousin Yasmeen vanish down the driveway. Her mother had cast one final knowing glance upwards, exchanging a silent signal with her daughter before disappearing from view. Now, it was time.
Noor pulled her long white scarf tight around her shoulders, securing her bun with a simple ivory pin. The soft clatter of bangles and hurried footsteps below signaled the buzzing chaos of the remaining servants, clueless to the princess's plan. She stepped out of her room, moving swiftly down the narrow staircase, careful not to attract attention.
In the sprawling lawn—so wide it could host a royal polo match—stood the one man she could trust blindly: Mir Baksh, the veteran minister and her lifelong shadow.
The sleek, midnight-blue carriage stood ready. The horses, noble and proud, pawed at the earth, their harnesses glinting in the late afternoon sun. The coachman (a sais, as they called him) stood with reins in hand, adjusting the reins and stirrups.
> "Thank you, Mir Baksh," Noor said, her breath steadying now that escape was in reach. Relief colored her eyes.
Mir Baksh placed a hand over his chest and bowed low, his voice warm.
> "Anytime, Miss."
She gave him a faint smile and walked toward the carriage, but he fell into step beside her, chuckling under his breath.
> "Next time," he said slyly, "try a better excuse. Fever's lost its charm."
Noor sighed.
> "Did Yasmeen stutter again?"
> "No—well, not much. But if Nawab Sahib weren't so high with excitement over the prince's return, he'd have seen through her white lie in a heartbeat."
Noor raised an eyebrow, half relieved, half exasperated.
He smiled. "A close call, but we survived."
The carriage creaked as it was drawn closer. Mir Baksh's voice dropped a note lower.
> "I hope nobody recognizes you, Princess." He had switched into formal tone—the sais was within earshot now.
> "Of course not," Noor said confidently. "No commoner has ever seen me. They won't recognize someone they've only heard legends about."
She dipped her head, gripping Mir Baksh's arm as she stepped into the carriage.
He followed her closely.
> "What about the royals? They've seen you at the palace balls."
Noor rolled her eyes, waving a hand.
> "They'll be too busy fawning over the great young prince. Besides, remember the last time someone from the court saw me in plain clothes? Couldn't even tell if I was the cook's daughter or a distant cousin."
Mir Baksh chuckled, eyes gleaming with the memory.
> "Ah yes—Sir Thomas was baffled. Even Nawab Mirza looked ready to summon all his ancestors trying to remember where he'd seen you before. Thank the heavens he assigned me to keep an eye on you since then, or you'd have been caught long ago."
Noor fixed him with a look.
> "You won't tell Father."
Not a question—an instruction.
Mir Baksh grinned.
> "Hats off to your trust, little princess."
She narrowed her eyes and subtly reached into her waistband, revealing a delicate but deadly dagger.
> "Will you?"
He raised both hands in mock surrender.
> "I—I mean... no. Definitely not. I've survived battles twice your age—I don't intend to fall to your dagger today."
> "Good." Noor slid the dagger back in place with a satisfied smirk.
As she settled into the velvet-cushioned seat, Mir Baksh adjusted the curtains slightly.
> "Be back before Maghrib. Your parents will return by Isha, but it's better safe than scandal."
> "Of course, Sir Mir Baksh," Noor said with mock drama, waving her hand like a queen.
Then she leaned forward and called to the sais,
"To Sitapur Library!"
As the wheels began to turn and the horses moved forward, Noor peered out of the small lattice window. The city of Sitapur would be glowing like Diwali tonight—crackers, lamps, cheers—all for the arrival of the famed young prince. But she had other plans. She wanted to see the city's soul, its quiet corners, its books, its freedom.
And somewhere in the heart of that chaos... destiny waited.