Read The Twentieth Wife for Free Online

below in the Diwan-i-am.
    She fell back on her heels, her foot tapping impatiently on the stone floor. The day of the wedding had finally arrived, and she had not been able to catch a glimpse of the ceremony or of Prince Salim. It was unfair that her brothers were allowed to be present at the courtyard below while she had to be confined behind the parda with the royal harem. And what made it all the more unfair was that she was not even old enough to wear the veil, but for some reason her mother had insisted on keeping her in the zenana balcony.
    Mehrunnisa jumped up and down, trying to look over the heads of the zenana ladies. At that moment, it did not strike her that she was actually in the imperial palace. Everything, every thought, centered on Salim. When the gates had opened and the female guards had eyed them with suspicion before letting them into the zenana area, Saliha had bowed to them in awe. Mehrunnisa had ignored them, her eyes running everywhere, not seeing the rainbow silks or the luminous jewels or the flawlessly painted faces. Her only thought had been to find a good spot at the screen to see the prince. And now they had been pushed to the back because they were younger and smaller than all the other women.
    “I am going to push them aside and take a look.”
    “You cannot do that. This is the Emperor’s harem; they are the most exalted ladies in the realm,” Saliha said in a horrified whisper, holding Mehrunnisa’s hand tight in hers.
    “With very bad manners,” Mehrunnisa replied, her voice pert. “Ihave been pushed out of the way four times already. How are we supposed to see Prince Salim? They are not made of water that we can see through them.”
    She pulled her hand out of Saliha’s grasp and ran to the front of the balcony. She tapped one of the concubines on the shoulder and, when she turned, slipped through the opening to press her face against the screen, her fingers clutching the marble.
    Mehrunnisa blinked rapidly to adjust her eyes to the blinding sunshine in the Diwan-i-Am and gazed at the figure seated on the throne at the far end. Akbar was dressed in his magnificent robes of state, the jewels on his turban glittering as he nodded graciously to his ministers. The Emperor’s eyes were suspiciously bright when he looked at his son.
    Mehrunnisa shifted her gaze to Prince Salim and held her breath. From here she could only see him in profile. He held himself with grace, shoulders squared, feet planted firmly apart, right hand on the jeweled dagger tucked into his cummerbund. Princess Man Bai stood next to him, head covered with a red muslin veil heavily embroidered in gold zari. If only the princess would move back a step so she could see Salim a little better, Mehrunnisa thought, her face glued to the screen. Perhaps if she leaned over to the right . . . The Qazi who was performing the ceremony had just finished asking Prince Salim if he would take the Princess Man Bai to be his wife. He now turned to the princess.
    Mehrunnisa, along with the rest of the court, waited in silence for Man Bai to respond. Just then, someone rudely pulled her by the shoulder. She turned around to see the irate concubine glaring at her.
    “How dare you?” the concubine hissed between clenched teeth, her face twisted in anger.
    Mehrunnisa opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the girl lifted her hand and slapped Mehrunnisa’s face, her jeweled rings cutting into her cheek.
    Mehrunnisa raised a trembling hand to her face and stared at her, eyes huge in a pale face. No one— no one —had hit her before, not even her parents.
    Tears sprang to her eyes as she glowered at the woman, spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them. Mehrunnisa wiped them away with the back of her hand. The concubine leaned over her, hands on hips. Mehrunnisa did not flinch. Instead, she bit her lip to keep back a retort, the slap still ringing in her ears. Suddenly she was terribly lonely. Somewhere in the