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closely at Yasaman. Salima is correct. The girl has the breasts of a mature woman. She is ripe for marriage.”
    “It is time we spoke of finding a husband for Yasaman, my lord,” Rugaiya Begum said now that this perfect opportunity had presented itself to her. “In another year Yasaman will be of marriageable age. It would be good to settle the matter soon,” she finished, casting her friend, Jodh Bai, a grateful look.
    “Yes, I suppose you are correct, my dear Rugaiya,” Akbar said, “but let us speak on it later.”
    “As my lord wishes,” Rugaiya Begum agreed, surmising that his reluctance to discuss the matter stemmed from the presence of the other consorts, all of whom had grown suddenly still as they strained to hear the conversation between their shared husband and his first wife.
    Since it was past time for the evening meal, Rugaiya Begum signaled her servants discreetly. Under Adali’s firm direction, they moved about the terrace offering the guests fruit and sweetmeats. Because she knew the older of the wives particularly enjoyed them, Yasaman had asked that Turkish paste candies be served. There was tea to drink, both smoky black Assam and a delicate green tea from China that had a faint flavorand aroma of apricots. Food was an important part of the zenana life, and the wives of Akbar enjoyed it as much as anyone.
    Behind a screen the musicians played softly. Some young dancing girls entertained the ladies, and they were followed by a wizened old man who charmed a snake from its woven basket. A large bright moon gave the feeling of daylight, and when a light breeze sprang up, Rugaiya Begum called to Adali to bring kites. Akbar enjoyed kite flying, and the wind was just right this evening for the delicate paper toys.
    “I want the tiger,” Yasaman said.
    “But I want it too,” teased her father.
    “It is my birthday,” the girl reasoned with him. “Therefore, I should have whatever I so desire, Papa, and I desire the tiger kite!”
    “I am forced to agree with you, my daughter,” the emperor told her gracefully. “I shall take the elephant kite instead.”
    “Aram-Banu! Come and join us!” Yasaman called to her sister. “There is a peacock for you.”
    Delighted to be included, Aram-Banu arose and took hold of the silken string attached to her kite, which Adali had already begun flying for her. Yasaman came to stand next to her sister and gently instructed her in the art so that the childlike woman’s kite would not crash to earth. Aram-Banu might be slower than most women her age, but she had a full-blown Mughal temper when frustrated or thwarted.
    “Yasaman will be a good mother one day,” Rugaiya Begum said, pleased by her daughter’s kind behavior.
    “Why should she not be?” Jodh Bai demanded. “She has had the best example possible in you, my dear friend.”
    “If I had not been here for her, you would have been,” Rugaiya Begum replied practically.
    “I could not have raised her the way you raised her,” Jodh Bai insisted. “Behold my son Salim, dear friend.”
    “He will be a fine emperor one day,” Rugaiya insisted. “He is simply impatient.”
    “And stubborn and full of pride,” Jodh Bai said. “He is my child, and I love him. I want to believe him perfect even if I know better.”
    “Like his father,” Rugaiya Begum chuckled, “and like my darling daughter, Yasaman.”
    “You defend Salim. Yet of all the women in his father’shouse, you have never interceded for him or been won over by his charm,” Jodh Bai noted.
    “No, I have not,” her friend agreed. “Salim must learn that not all women will succumb to his magnetism. He must be able to accept when he is wrong. I have always been the voice of Salim’s conscience. I will continue to be as long as I walk this earth. If he learns from his errors, he will one day be a good and just emperor. I believe he can accomplish this.”
    The celebration ended shortly afterward. The servants brought bowls of rose