"It's beautiful." Shirin was beaming.
"I think it's magnificent." Jadar seemed not to need encouragement, as he drank again from his sharbat. "So now you know the other reason I invited you here this afternoon. To tell you what you may see when you return to Agra. I haven't decided on the exact location yet, but it will be on the bank of the Jamuna, placed so Mumtaz can watch the sun set over the water, just as we do here. I wanted to tell you both, for I sense you two are among the few who could really appreciate what a bold idea this is." Jadar looked sharply at Shirin. "Now, you must never, never tell Mumtaz, whatever else you two Persians may chatter on about. For now let's keep it a secret among us. But someday, someday it will tell all the world how much I love her." He sighed. "You know, at times I worry I'm nothing more than a romantic Persian myself, deep inside."
He looked about the glistening walls once more, then reluctantly turned and walked out onto the balcony again.
"The peace I feel here overwhelms me sometimes. It quiets all the unrest in my soul. Perhaps I'm a fool to ever think of Agra. But Agra is my destiny. The Hindus would say it's my dharma."
He stopped to watch as Mumtaz and her women emerged from their quarters and gathered around the fountain in the garden below. The evening air was flooded with the women's rose attar and musk perfume. He inhaled deeply, then turned to Hawksworth.
"By the way, I've had a small farewell gift made for you, Captain. It's there beside you." He pointed to the sitar by the railing. "I understand you've started learning to play it."
Hawksworth turned, startled, and picked up the instrument. Its workmanship was fine art, with ivory inlays along both sides of the body and a neck carved as the head of a swan. He found himself stunned. "I've only just begun to learn, Highness. This is much finer than I deserve. It's worthy of an Ustad."
"Then perhaps it will inspire you to become a Master yourself someday." He laughed. "And now I want to hear how you play it. The Hindus believe the sitar is a window to the soul. That the sound of the first note tells everything there is to know about a man. I want to see if you've actually understood anything since you've been here. What raga have you been studying?"
"Malkauns."
"An ambitious choice. I seem to remember that's a devotional raga. For late evening. But the sun's almost down. We'll pretend it's the moon, just rising. Let's go inside, where you can sit."