Wild Jasmine by Bertrice Small

is wrong, no matter how he may rationalize it. If the princess is married and happy, I do not believe he will attempt to spoil her happiness, for he loves her. If she is a mother, so much the better.”
    “But does he love himself more, I wonder?” Rugaiya Begum mused. “Even I have never been certain of just how far he would go. This murder of Abul Fazl truly surprised me. Salim always used to pride himself on his self-discipline where wine and opium are concerned. He saw what they have done to his brothers, Murad and Daniyal. Yet I have heard disturbing stories of late about Salim’s excesses and drunkenness. When under the influence of wine and opium together, he does things he would not otherwise dare. I am told he recently had a young page who offended him castrated; and a servant beaten to death. This instability of character frightens me, Adali.”
    “Then you must certainly tell our lord Akbar the truth, my lady Begum. The prince will obviously stop at nothing. The princess must be protected at all costs. When you spoke with our lord tonight, did he have any suggestions for a husband for our little lady?”
    “Of course,” Rugaiya Begum said, “but none were suitable. There is but one prince for Yasaman. Jamal Darya Khan.”
    Adali raised his eyebrows slightly in approval of Rugaiya Begum. “An admirable choice, my lady Begum,” he said. “If our princess weds a Kashmiri prince, she will be well out of her brother’s sphere of influence. Excellent! When will you discuss this with the Mughal?”
    “Let him sleep the night, Adali, although Allah knows I will not! My lord and I will settle this matter in the morning before he returns to his own palace. There can be no delay in Yasaman’s wedding. Ahh, my poor daughter. She is so young!”
    “She is also strong like Candra, my lady Begum,” Adali said. “Whatever fate life has in store for her, she will meet the challenge and triumph. This I know in my heart. ”

Chapter 3
    T he emperor awakened early, as was his custom, and bathed. He spent several minutes in spiritual meditation, but when he arose from his knees expecting to find his breakfast being served, he instead saw his first wife, Rugaiya Begum, enter the room. He thought that she was showing her age for the first time. There were purple patches beneath her fine eyes.
    “A word, my lord, before your meal, I pray you. It is most important, or I should not disturb you. Will you walk by the lake with me?” She slipped her arm through his, looking into his face with a silent plea.
    He nodded but said nothing, realizing that her unspoken request meant they should go somewhere they could not be overheard. The morning air was sweet and cool. The sun was just rising over the mountains, and mist hung above the placid, mirrorlike waters of Wular Lake.
    “My words will shock and certainly anger you, my lord,” Rugaiya Begum told him as they strolled along the shore. A mewling gull swooped low over the water looking for a meal. “You must swear to me on the soul of your father, Humayun, that you will not retaliate against the guilty.”
    “What is so terrible that you must seek to extract such a promise from me, my wife?” he asked her. Salim . It had to be Salim. The source of most of his pain was Salim; but never before had Rugaiya taken his part. Interesting.
    “I will say nothing more unless you will swear to me, my lord,” Rugaiya Begum insisted stubbornly.
    “Then I must so swear,” Akbar replied. “I cannot remember ever having you ask such a thing of me, my dear. It must be very serious. It is Salim, of course, but it is not like you to defend him. Why?” It disturbed him to see her looking so distraught, as if she had not slept the entire night.
    “Yes, it is about Salim, my lord. But it is about Yasaman too,” and then she told him in careful and minute detail exactly what Adali had told her.
    Akbar listened, his wheaten complexion growing darker with his rising anger. By some