A Garden Of Hydrangeas

باپ کی شہزادی | Father's princess

Chapter 4.

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Amongst the tall canopies of the Fir trees, behind the fast flowing river of Mushkpur, was a secluded mansion. Acres of land spread out in front of it, neatly maintained rows of grass never grew above a few inches, the yellow soapstone pathways cleaned every other day to make sure it was always spotless. The gardeners wove the tree branches around iron frames and after years the fruit was borne as they grew in nothing but the perfect shapes, not a leaf out of place. A long drive way, with lanterns on either side gathered into a large round about, a large fountain in the middle. The Gaia statue still stood tall, albeit vines now creeped up over it.

Heavy wooden doors with the engravings made out of hand kept intruders from peaking into the mansion itself, large windows in the front of the home covered with thick curtains. Inside the foyer, a large glass chandelier accompanied by smaller white ceiling lights kept the place illuminated after sunset. A curling staircase opened into the wide space, to the left a powder room for the guests had been added. Adjacent to it was a private office for Azmaray to entertain his many visitors.

Crossing the threshold and foyer, one was lead straight into the large dining room overlooking the gardens behind the property. Trees native and non-native to the country grew under meticulous care. Birds chirped around the tops of the trees and ducks took an occasional dip in the man made pool. Some way away from the main gardens were the stables where only the most top class Arabian horses resided, living in the lap of luxury generation after generation. A small hallway was the shorter route to the large kitchens, only place in the home where the touches of history were most dominant.

"That's all perfect Mr.Azmaray but aren't the kitchens a bit outdated?" The contractor, Azeem, who had the job of converting the west wing into a private annex, questioned.

"It was in truth update with the rest of the house, however, my daughter likes to sit in the kitchens during winters, and is awfully impressed by the ones they talk about in books so we renovated it to fit those descriptions".

"You're telling me you ripped out state of the art appliances to make room for a stone hearth, where wood burns and a brick oven?"

"That's what I think I did". Azmaray shrugged.

"You realized you just downgraded the property's worth, if you ever want to sell it have the place renovated," Azeem sneered.

"Thank you for the advice but this place shall not be sold. Ever". He waved his hand, the end of the conversation.

"Now Azeem would you like to stay for breakfast?"

"No—uh sir I should leave now, need to hire workers".

"Best of luck with that then," the parting words uttered, Azmaray walked away.

His hands straightened the collar of his shirt as he took two steps a time towards his own bedroom, where he had left his wife a mere half an hour ago.

Summers in Mushkpur had an aura of a fairytale to them. The mornings were misty as dew lay thick amongst the homes and streets. Tall trees kept the might spirited sun's rays away fron sight, yet somehow a bit of heat escaped and managed to warm the curving slopes of the valley. Today was one such day, although not as humid the air was still crackling dry. Sun out of sight yet it's presence could be felt in the heatwave that made motions lazier by the second.