Arangbar sat silent for a moment, savoring his own pronouncement, then he turned to Janahara and spoke to her in a dull slur.
"Ask something of me. Let me prove to the Inglish that I can never deny you."
Janahara turned as though she had not been listening. Hawksworth knew she had been straining for every word.
"What could I ask, Majesty? You have given me all I could ever want. Tonight you even gave me a husband for my daughter. Now I can die with the peace of Allah."
"But I must give you something." He settled his wine cup shakily on the carpet, jostling red splashes across the Persian design. "You must name it."
"But there is nothing I could ask that I do not already have."
"Sometimes you vex me with your good nature. The Inglish will now suspect the Moghul of India is a vain braggart." He fumbled with his turban, trying to detach the large blue sapphire attached to the front. "I will give you a jewel, even though you have not asked it."
"I beg Your Majesty." She reached to stay his hand. "There is nothing more I could ever want."
"But I must give you something."
She smiled in defeat. "If you must bestow a present, why not give something to the bride and groom? This is their wedding, not mine."