Asiya hurried up the steps as quickly as she dared. At the top, she paused, waiting for Shair, who strolled up at his own pace. He took her hand, and together they boarded the plane, bound for Paris.
Since Shair's proposal three weeks earlier, Asiya hadn't had a moment to reflect. Life had become a whirlwind, a spectacular roller coaster ride that grew more exciting with each passing moment. If Murree had awakened her childhood fantasies, Paris was bringing out the woman in her. From their suite at the Plaza Athénée, the City of Love seemed the very essence of romance and beauty.
Asiya gasped at her first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower. "I've never seen anything like it before," she breathed.
Shair nudged her playfully. "Then we simply must see it up close."
Asiya looked up, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you sure it's safe?" She inquired a little uncertain..
Shair put a reassuring arm around her shoulders. "I'll keep you safe. I promise."
Inside the elevator, Asiya buried her face in his shoulder, holding on to him for dear life.
Shair lifted her hand, his eyes twinkling. "Your hand looks so empty. What do you think?"
Asiya glanced at him briefly, then closed her eyes again. "It looks fine…"
Shair laughed. "No, ma'am, it does not! And I know just what it needs." He reached into his coat pocket, rummaging for something. He waited until he had her full attention, then produced a small red velvet box, offering it to her with a flourish.
She stared at the box, wide-eyed. A gift! Her first real gift in… well, she couldn't even remember the last time someone had given her a present. She took it from him, her fingers trembling slightly. "Thank you," she whispered shyly.
"Open it…"
She lifted the lid to reveal a large emerald ring, framed by sparkling diamonds. It was more beautiful than anything she had ever seen.
"Do you like it?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.
Asiya nodded, her eyes shining with wonder, as if she had just witnessed the moon rising for the very first time.
Just then, the elevator doors slid open, and a gust of icy wind swept in. Shair took the box from her hand and gently guided her outside. The mid-morning panoramic view of Paris was breathtaking. Asiya was instantly captivated. "This is gorgeous, Shair…" she breathed.
He turned to her, smiling, and took her hand from her pocket. He slipped the ring onto her finger. "Yes, it is, isn't it?" he agreed, his gaze locked on hers. "I love this city. I hope you will too."
She clasped his hand in both of hers and kissed it with an almost reverent love.
Like everything else connected to Shair, Paris was mesmerising, otherworldly. Asiya couldn't get enough of it. The trees, though bare, possessed a magnificent grandeur. The sky, though grey, revealed glimpses of brilliant blue peeking through the clouds. Every building was tasteful, every street overflowing with charm.
"Shair," she asked, as they strolled along the Avenue Montaigne, "is it just me, or is this place like something out of a dream?"
"I believe it's the most charming and romantic city in the world," he replied, rubbing his thumb across her palm—a habit he was developing—as they stood on the Alma Bridge, admiring the view.
Almost every afternoon, they strolled along the banks of the Seine, often losing their way as they explored the city and, more importantly, each other.
One weekend, they hopped aboard a Bateau-Mouche. "I've never had a meal on a boat before!" Asiya exclaimed, thrilled at the prospect of a boat ride that would tour them through the city and its attractions.
"I have," he said, his attention elsewhere.
She glanced at him briefly, then turned her gaze back to the Notre Dame Cathedral. "Of course you have," she said quietly, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. "I wasn't... I can't compare with you," she said, looking everywhere but at him.
Her sudden shift in tone caught his attention. She was brushing back strands of hair that the cold Seine wind had blown across her face. "But never with someone half as beautiful as you," he reassured, putting his arm around her. She could see the sincerity in his eyes.
On this trip, Shair was her lover, her tour guide, her teacher, and, above all, her friend and confidante. He shared his passions with her, introducing her to the splendour, lavishness, and romance of European culture. He walked her through history at every turn in the city. He confided in her his hopes, dreams, and secrets. And she, in turn, revelled in the magnificence of each discovery, savouring every moment of the trip as a breathtaking experience.
For the entire month they spent in Paris, he meticulously planned an excursion for each day, ensuring every moment was filled with pleasurable entertainment. Every night, they dined at a different restaurant.
"I want to live my life with you, Asiya. Mere existence wouldn't do it justice," he professed. And before each dinner, he would present her with a small token of his affection. Sometimes it was something simple, like a single red rose, a tube of brilliant red lipstick—a special touch for their visit to the Moulin Rouge—or a charming sketch of the two of them beneath the Eiffel Tower. Other times, his gifts were more extravagant. He gave her a bottle of his favourite Diorissimo cologne and a beautiful Chopard wristwatch.
"This must be expensive…" she whispered, her eyes wide with a mixture of delight and concern.
"But you have to have a watch, Asiya!" he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"How do you do it? When did you even get this? You must tell me today…" she would ask him every day, her excitement and curiosity bubbling over. Her enthusiasm thrilled him.
"What's the fun in that?" he'd tease, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"I was afraid that you would have to live in poverty once you gave up your title," she confessed, her earlier anxieties resurfacing. "I was so worried for you."
Shair laughed. "Giving up my title means I no longer have certain political privileges, and I can't maintain diplomatic ties unless I earn the right to do so on my own. It has nothing to do with my inheritance. I'm still my father's son!" His smile turned slightly sour. "I have access to my estates and bank accounts, though I'm not sure what my mother will do with her share…" After a brief pause, he added, "I wish she would talk to me, even if she won't let me into the haveli."
Asiya hugged him tightly, grateful that they were in France, where she could express her affection freely.
On their way to Charles de Gaulle Airport, Shair placed a hand on Asiya's shoulder and whispered, "One more surprise…"
She turned to him, her eyes wide with excitement. "Really? Another one?" she laughed. "What is it?"
Shair chuckled, clearly enjoying her anticipation.
"What? What? What?" she teased, trying every trick she could think of to get him to reveal the secret, but he remained playfully tight-lipped.
"You'll see," he said. "As soon as we reach Lahore."