"What message did Nadir Sharif ever send that wasn't dictated by our noble queen?"
"You're a fool not to trust him. But you'd do well to begin. And soon." Mumtaz's eyes snapped momentary fire, matching the hard red jewel on her forehead, and she eased herself slowly onto a well-traveled velvet bolster to lighten the weight of the child. "I think you'll discover your many friends may be difficult to find if we ever return to the capital."
"Come to the point. I want to see into their tent. They killed well today." Jadar was always amused by Mumtaz's temper. He had long ago despaired of receiving proper respect from her. She defied him exactly the way Janahara defied the Moghul. And he delighted in it. Perhaps all Persian wives were incorrigible. Perhaps it was a racial trait.
"Very well. You should be pleased to know that His Majesty has already forgotten you exist. He has agreed to the queen's outrageous scheme. An affront to sense, but it will be the end of you nonetheless."
"Agreed to what?"
"The very marriage I warned you about, but you wouldn't listen. You were too clever. Yes, you were brilliant. You sent the wrong brother away from Agra. You sent Khusrav, the competent one. You should have sent Allaudin."
"I don't believe it."
"I do. And I told you it would happen. The queen has foisted her scrawny offspring, the simpering Princess Layla, onto Allaudin. But it's the perfect match. The Moghul’s youngest son, the notorious 'good-for-nothing,' betrothed to that fumbling little sparrow. Both weak and useless."
"What could Allaudin possibly do? Even Arangbar realizes he's incompetent."
"But Arangbar will soon be dead. So what he knows won't matter. It's perfect for the queen. She'll rule them both. In the meantime, she'll make sure you're nowhere near Agra. Your next appointment will probably be the Punjab, or perhaps the Himalayas. Where you can chase yak with your leopards." Mumtaz could scarcely contain her anger and frustration. "The time will come, and soon, when the Moghul will chance his twenty glasses of wine and his twelve grains of opium one night too many. And the next day, while you're somewhere sporting with your chitahs, she'll summon her lackey general Inayat Latif and his Bengal mansabdars to Agra. And declare Allaudin the next Moghul."