Read Beneath a Marble Sky for Free Online

wield no influence?”
    “I could live among them,” I offered, trying to impress her with my insight, “and become their friend.”
    “As you should. But being a friend means sacrificing yourself. And as a woman of high rank, your opportunity to help others—one of your strongest opportunities, in fact—is to marry for political reasons. In doing so you strengthen your father’s authority. You give power to his name and laws. And his laws, as you know, are good for our people.”
    “But don’t we have a duty to ourselves?”
    “We do. And I pray that you’ll find love, as does your father. We found it and I wouldn’t think to deny you such joy.”
    “Just the same—”
    “Believe me, Jahanara, your husband shall be chosen with care. He won’t be a lout, though he’ll be important to the Empire’s fate. As his wife, you’ll have power. Substantial power. And, I hope, between all that duty and power you can come to love each other.”
    “But how can one love a stranger?”
    To my surprise, she smiled. “And what of me?”
    “You?”
    “Certainly. Your father might have loved me from first sight, but do you think I cared a jot for him? He was but a spoiled prince, no more familiar to me than white hairs upon my head. Why would I want to marry him, when I dreamed of kissing Ranjit?”
    “Ranjit? But I’ve heard nothing of him.”
    “Hush,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Another tale for another time. But do you hear my message, Jahanara? If your father and I were thus introduced, and are now so inseparable, then why must your fate be any different?”
    I had no answer and told her so. My mood brightened. I shoved my thoughts of marriage into a closet, bolting it shut. Then I asked of Ranjit, and listened intently to her whispers, reveling in the knowledge that she trusted me with such a story. When we finally arrived home, Mother kissed my cheek. “Now go. Play at the river.”
    I hurried inside the harem and collected my brothers. When I told them that we were to escape our studies, they chattered excitedly. I walked as fast as I dared to my quarters nearby and removed my fine clothes, for I had learned long ago that my friends seemed happiest when I dressed as they did. I pulled on cotton garments and replaced my jewels with simple rings.
    Ladli entered my room, giggling when she saw my attire. A year older than I, she was my dearest friend. Even though a Hindu and a servant, Ladli knew my every secret. Like Nizam, she bore a dark complexion. Where his face was flat, however, hers was finely shaped. She was quite beautiful and, had she been born from an empress and not a seamstress, would have made a wonderful princess.
    We met my brothers outside the harem. Each was dressed in worn garments, except for Aurangzeb, who wore the yellow tunic of a horseman in Father’s army. Shah and Murad, normally quiet, gabbed like a pair of old widows. Dara, inevitably our leader on such rare adventures, started toward the river. His strides were steady and we drifted past the Red Fort.
    People failed to recognize us and only bowed when they spied Aurangzeb. He didn’t return their greetings, though he nodded to several soldiers. One warrior laughed at Aurangzeb’s outfit, for it was far too large, as was his sword, which nearly touched the ground. My brother’s brow furrowed and his pace quickened.
    As we eased past crowds, I noticed Nizam following us, weaving around traders and then disappearing behind some tethered camels. How he could be a slave and so loyal, with neither parents nor future, was  a mystery to me. Surely, Mother’s kindness had nurtured his disposition, but it was hard for me to imagine the tragedy of my parents’ deaths.
    I continued to think about Nizam while we walked through a fruit and vegetable bazaar, where women stood with wooden platters atop their heads. The platters bore melons, grapes, chilies, almonds. Much bartering was done as buyers moved about, with younger merchants