“He won’t,” Maham Anga says coldly. “Because I will ensure that Moti ‘confesses’ before she wakes—or before she wakes at all.”

Her companion and another maid, Hira, tries to calm her. “Begum, anger against Maham Anga will only bring you more trouble. She rules the harem like a queen mother.”

Akbar rises, frowning. “Moti was accused of stealing royal jewels. The evidence—”

“The Rajput queen has gone to Akbar. Let her. The more she pushes, the more she will alienate him. Men do not like defiant wives.”

As Akbar leaves, he pauses at the door. “Then watch me.”

The guard stammers, “M-Maham Anga’s orders. A tonic for faster recovery.”