note: so, while rewatching episode 38, it was interesting to see Ruqaiya act unbothered at the news of Jalal getting married to another woman without announcing it to anyone in Agra. this is more interesting to me because Ruqaiya is said to be Jalal's childhood friend who knows his secrets as well as what makes him tick.

it is important to note that in an earlier episode, Ruqaiya was curious as to Jalal's findings in Amer and why he'd go there with him giving half-truths as to why he was there. then, there is a surprise announcement that he married an Ameri princess.

personally, if I was Ruqs, I'd have had alarms going off in my head based on that information. here, I'll try to not go the vamp pathway but try to make Ruqaiya the gray(ish) character she was initially supposed to be (Smiley Suri's portrayal) while integrating the insecurities portrayed by Lavina Tandon's portrayal of Ruqs

flashback

It was not every day one got to spend a day with the Badshah of Hindustan, Ruqaiya knew how much responsibility such a position came with.

Yet, here she was in Mathura after managing to break him out of the stress of his responsibilities.

"Even the emperor deserves a moment of respite, doesn't he?" She had asked with an eyebrow raised.

It was with full reluctance that Jalal agreed to this trip. His fingers waved at one of the guards, requesting Atgah Khan's presence at the Royal Library.

It had been three weeks since the death of Khan Baba, the former Wazir-e-Aliya murdered during an ambush on the way to him performing Hajj - his final wish.

Jalal, upon hearing the news of his foster father's death, had broken down in tears. His emotions were out in the privacy of her hojra with her and Maham Anga as witnesses.

Ruqaiya had never seen him this way - not when he had gotten the news of the death of his biological father. Just witnessing such intensity made her so uncomfortable she had left when provided an opportunity.

She preferred when he was cold and ruthless. Besides, why waste tears over a man who had openly defied his authority?

The last moments Jalal had with Bairam Khan had become fraught with conflicts that would have escalated into a full-blown war had the older man not conceded defeat.

This trip was more of a getaway - in many ways than one. For one, it had been a long time since Ruqaiya got to spend full quality and uninterrupted time with Jalal.

Her mind heated up in anger at the memory of Maham Anga showing up to interrupt one of their most intimate moments with her presence. Her chappals had been enough to deter the older woman before she decided to come out of her room to confront her. Then, Jalal had been lulled to sleep

That day had not ended well for her with Jalal summoning her at the Diwan-e-Khaas and berating her in front of his ministers.

Ruqaiya did not miss the smug look the white-cladded woman presented her that day.

Who would have thought she was there to inform Jalal about Zaheer's condition in the prison cell? Or that someone had assassinated one of her husband's trusted men?

From that malicious sneer, Ruqaiya could tell that Maham Anga had been in the background orchestrating and pulling strings like the puppetmaster she was.

That cunning of a green snake slithering through green grass. How Ruqaiya would love to pull the rug under her feet and expose her for the kind of woman she was. The only obstacle in her way was how high of a pedestal Jalal placed his Badi Ammi.

Despite knowing she had a hand in the death of his Khan Baba, Jalal still considered her important - as higher than his wet nurse.

Any attempt to get him to see the light of who Maham Anga was would only fall on deaf ears and further arouse his anger.

His anger was the last thing she needed to face, so, reluctantly, she tolerated Maham Anga. As long as she learned to live with a woman such as her, Ruqaiya could have all the power she desired.

Mathura provided the break she desperately needed from Agra and everything back there. Yet, fate seemed to work against her this very day. For one, that hunting trip she had anticipated going on with Jalal.

Her fingers were poised on the trigger, prepared to release it only for someone to interfere in her hunt by creating a fire.

Oh, once she got her hands on the culprit.

She let out an exhale, her train of thoughts interrupted by clamour from afar. Her attention veered off to the source, her ears picking up a few words.

"No entry unless you pay the jizya," one of the guards stated, looking down on a woman.

"But why?" The woman questioned. "Everyone has the right to pray to their god, regardless of their beliefs. Why should we be made to pay?"

In all her years of living, Ruqaiya had never witnessed anyone as bold as this woman to openly defy the Mughal Empire. From how she dressed and carried herself, Ruqaiya could tell that she was of royalty too.

Such a shame being that the Mughals ruled here, not some measly Hindu princess, her lips tilted up in arrogance as she watched the scene.

Waving her two fingers at a guard, she asked, "Who is she?"

"Begum Sahiba," the guard bowed in respect before dignifying her question with an answer. "She is a member of Amer's Royal Family, daughter of Maharaj Bharmal. She and her brothers made a pilgrimage trip to Mathura in honour of Yam Dwitiya."

"Hmm," Ruqaiya mused, her eyes giving the Ameri princess another glance over from afar. "And by what name does she go by?"

"Registan ka Gulab, Huzoor."

With a renewed resolve, the Mughal squared up her shoulders as she prepared to step into the scene.

Why not test just how thorny this rose could be?

flashback over

She had tested the thorny stalk of that rose and her fingers stung from the impact.

Ruqaiya's face burned red just in memory of how the Registan ka Gulab had outwitted her. Or how the Rajkumari's eyes stared into hers without a hint of fear as she pulled off her necklaces thereafter to pay off the taxes of not just her and her family but those of the pilgrims for the next five years.

Blowing out the smoke from her hookah, she let out a raucous bout of laughter at the turn of events.

So, Jalal had gone undercover into the gates of Amer - not just to gauge its weakness - but to discover the desert's rose.

Ya Khuda, Allah works in mysterious ways indeed, the irony was too rich for her to maintain a straight face.

Knowing the kind of man Jalal was, it would only take a miracle if this desert rose could manage to retain her thorns under the roof of this harem.

Once Jalal broke her down - from her pride to her will, she would be nothing more than the decorations and ornaments of this place - lost to history and bound to be replaced by something new.

Maybe Agra was not as bad as Jodha had initially believed. While some of the people of this place stared at her like she was an alien being or worse, treated her like she was forced upon them (Maham Anga and her dumb brute of a son, Adham Khan, being two major examples), she smiled in gratitude as the two older women showed her around the palace.

Malika-e-Azaam, who had politely requested she referred to her as Ammi Jaan, had given her the grandest of welcome which made Agra feel more like a home than a prison.

"This is your home now, bete," the older woman had smiled down on her as soon as the procession was done.

Then, a younger girl came forward with a jar of milk. Jodha could deduce that she was about the same age as she was and an equally warm soul like Ammi Jaan and Jiji Ammi

"Adaab, Bhabijaan," she greeted her warmly. "As per the customs of the Mughals, I am to wash your feet with this milk."

With a nod of the head, Jodha slowly pulled up her ghagra, exposing her feet as the young girl proceeded. From what she gathered, she was Bakshi Bano Begum, younger sister to Jalal and wife to Sharifuddin.

She seemed such a sweet girl that Jodha could only frown at the thought of such a person being related to such men by blood and marriage respectively.

And it wasn't just Bakshi Bano, even Ammi Jaan and Jiji Ammi.

Strange, wasn't it? She had expected to meet with a den of vipers in Agra but here she was with at least three welcoming presences.

Jodha's eyes wandered as Ammi Jaan showed her the mahal first and she had to admit that the architecture was one of the best state of art she would ever encounter. The building stood as imposing as the man who ruled it with its designs and ornaments integrating the Mughal culture with the Hindustani architecture.

As much as she may dislike most of the people within this place, she could not deny the beauty that met her vision.

But if she thought the palace was outstanding, her mind would later change as Ammi Jaan took her to the palatial garden.

"The Angoori Bagh, bete, was rebuilt once Jalal reinstated Agra as the seat of power. Under his orders, this garden has only blossomed even further than it did while under the reign of Badshah Humayun," with a solemn look, Ammi Jaan looked up to whisper some prayers with the women behind her replying "ameen".

Jodha gazed at the variety of flora from sweet-smelling jasmines to alluring roses, the Angoori Bagh was as serene as serene could be. The shrubs looked neatly trimmed and well-maintained.

For a man like Jalal, he did ensure the Angoori Bagh was made into the state of art it was.

Then, Ammi Jaan led her to the two courts, the Diwan-e-Aam and the Diwan-e-Khaas.

"Here, public cases are brought to the emperor," Ammi Jaan explained as she brought her to the public court. "From criminal cases to civil disputes, every citizen exercises their rights to be judged fairly by their emperor."

With an offhanded nod, Jodha stared off at the court. There stood a raised platform where the emperor - he - was to sit while he oversaw the cases brought to him.

Yet, why did she feel they would be anything but judged fairly?

"And the Diwan-e-Khaas, Ammi Jaan? Is it the high court?"

With a smile, Ammi Jaan led her back to the palace, the journey back being a bit too ardent for the young queen.

"Here, Diwan-e-Khaas is a lot more different. Here, cases involving the royal family are judged and in addition, major political decisions are determined by the emperor. New laws are drafted and signed into effect in this very court, bete."

She paused momentarily as she stared back at the empty seats in the palace, then, she turned to see the women before her staring at her in expectation as if they were waiting for her.

She let out a nervous laugh as she nodded at them to lead her to their next destination - the harem.

Now following Ammi Jaan, Jiji Ammi and Bakshi Bano to a building just as huge as the palace, Jodha needed no one to tell her this was the harem. An ominous feeling filled her the moment she stepped a foot inside with Moti and Reva accompanying her.

The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior yet her heart seized as she took in the sight of an unknown territory. Amer was not like this, at least, not in the way she remembered.

While polygamy was not an odd occurrence in Rajputana, the Rajput queen grew up in a monogamous home and found this a culture shock as she was met with a room filled with giggling and the sight of women dancing.

"This is the South Wing of the harem," Ammi Jaan broke through her thoughts. Jodha found herself snapping back to the present. "Here, the concubines of the emperor as well as the courtesans take their residence."

Not only were there concubines and courtesans, there were a few bandhis and khwaja siras, some gathered around a table as they engaged in series of board games like chess.

Her face lit up into a smile as it reminded her of when she'd play a game of chess with her sisters, bhabis and Sujamal Bhaisa. As much as his betrayal stung, she found herself missing him just as much as she missed the others.

Ammi Jaan took her around a few more places in the harem before finally stopping at one final section.

"The North Wing, bete," she announced and Jodha could see more women than she had seen in the South Wing. "Women of the Royal Family make their homes up in the North Wing."

Unlike the South Wing, the North Wing had women dressed more opulently with their intricately designed jhoomers on the left side of their heads and their large nath on their noses. Their attires were made from pure silk and their dupattas covered a part of their hair.

Even they were caught up in their own worlds, some playing board games as well. At one corner were begums awaiting their turns as one took her time in applying mehendi to the hands of another.

It was a matter of time before someone would point her out.

Like vultures eyeing a carcass, their eyes narrowed in at her like a target as they all came face to face with the new begum.

While Jodha was used to having this many eyes on her, there was something unsettling about how they glanced at her as if they were a tiger waiting to pounce on its prey.

It felt like treading on eggshells as she moved along with Ammi Jaan and the other women.

"Adaab, Begum Sahiba," they greeted Ammi Jaan before focusing their attention back on her.

One of them held a plate out for her, her kohl lined eyes staring at her in a way that made the Rajput uncomfortable. It was as if she was being assessed by these women.

"Kya tumhe paan chahiye?"

(do you want some paan?)

Paan.

She had taken that once upon a time with Sujamal Bhaisa and Bhagwan Das Bhaisa on her 15th Diwali.

That night ended with Maa Sa scolding her - for indulging in that and her brothers - for letting her chew on paan. It also came with a month where she was barred from going outside the palace. Since then, she always avoided paan.

Maa Sa was nowhere around to scold her if she chose to take one from the tray yet-

"Dhanyavaad but I do not take paan," she gave an apologetic smile, her tone as rueful as she could make it. The queen made a face at her as if she was an alien for refusing paan before taking one from the tray and popping it into her mouth while staring at her.

Jodha slowly exhaled, unaware that she had been holding her breath for that long as the queen would walk away from her. Was this a harem or the jungle itself?

Ammi Jaan, who had been silently observing her reaction, reassured her before leading her to one more place - her chambers or hojra, as she had called it.

It was spacious and airy - a place fit for a begum like her. At the far end stood a little shrine for her Kanha. A smile lit up Jodha's face again at the thought that he had held up to his end of the bargain.

He might be a jallad but he always keeps his word.

Then, her face fell again.

That look was not missed by Ammi Jaan who caught it in time.

"You do not like him, do you?"

That caught Jodha off guard as she stared at Ammi Jaan. How could she answer such a question? How could she tell a mother that she despised her son? Yet, she could not lie to Ammi Jaan either.

"He is heartless and cruel, how can one love a man like that, Ammi Jaan?"

Expecting a negative response from Ammi Jaan, the older woman only gazed at her in appreciation of her honesty, shocking Jodha even further.

"Not only did you think about what he has," Ammi Jaan started. "You also thought about what he doesn't have. I appreciate that and Insha'Allah, you will be the one who kickstarts his frozen heart."

Jodha almost scoffed at that. She? Kickstart his heart? Despite that, she nodded. Every mother would want what was best for her child even if her child's heart was made out of stone - for most part.

"I will take my leave and let you rest. Allah Hafiz, Jodha," Ammi Jaan greeted her before turning to leave. The women who had accompanied her also repeated the same gesture.

That left Jodha, Moti, Reva and some of the Hindu bandhis.

Jodha let out a sigh with the knowledge that she needed a bit of respite. Once the sun set, her nikah would commence and she would have to be within close proximity to jallad again.

Jalal had not graced her room with her presence like she thought but instead, gone to consult the maulvis to make arrangements for his nikah with his new bride.

From what Ruqaiya was able to gather from her informant, the religious leaders had given him hell for allowing his new begum to retain her religion rather than convert to Islam as per Mughal customs.

It had her pause and now, she mulled over the thought of him letting one of his begums keep on practising her religion.

Jodha would not be the first non-Muslim bride Jalal would take, in fact, there were many who had been of one religion or the other but the moment they came under the roof of this harem, they all converted.

Could there be more than what met the eyes here?

Even as the nikah commenced, even as Jalal had said "qubool hai" thrice, Ruqaiya did not miss the way his eyes - those typically cold eyes - were heated as he glanced at Begum Jodha through the pardah.

What exactly was so special about this new bride of his?

What set her apart that Jalal would break a rule for her and send her that stare that many of his begums wished he'd direct towards them?

Who really are you, Registan ka Gulab?

With Hoshiyaar and a few of her bandhis accompanying her with trays of gifts, she stopped before the woman whose eyes seemed to widen in recognition before settling for a contained smile.

Oh, she raised a brow. Not even a hint of fear.

That was new for the queen who was used to being regarded in fear from the other queens.

"I brought gifts for you, to welcome another begum into Agra and the harem. Please, accept the gifts I offer you," Ruqaiya pointed at the trays, the bandhis coming forward.

Wordlessly, Jodha placed both hands on the tray, accepting them.

Ruqaiya watched as the gifts were then passed on to the bandhis who stood beside her. However, Ruqaiya silently requested Hoshiyaar to present a box the eunuch had held with him.

"Even I have a personal gift of mine, Begum Jodha," she opened up a box and dipped her hands inside to present a golden necklace.

The light that bounced off the necklace almost blinded Ruqaiya as she held it up. Her lips curled up into a smirk at the thought of exercising her power over her.

"The golden necklace was produced by the best of Hindustan's jewellers and procured from Mathura," she paused, her eyes scrutinising the Rajput's face for any change in composure.

"I thought to myself, what better gift than a necklace from the khaas begum to a special guest of ours," she smiled, impressed by herself. "My request is that you wear it right now."

For a moment, Ruqaiya believed she got the Rajput queen right where she wanted her as the latter stared at the necklace.

However, the rug was pulled from under her feet as Jodha merely accepted the necklace, a smile on her face, "Since, this is a gift from the head of the harem, I will wear it while here at the right time."

Not showing her displeasure, Ruqaiya nodded before turning to take her seat behind the pardah.

It was a matter of time before Jalal's presence would be announced and to her dismay again, not once was his attention on her and if it was, it was only brief by a few milliseconds.

"Tut-tut," there was that annoying sound beside her and Ruqaiya knew she did not need to turn to see who it was.

The woman beside her turned, a malicious grin as she stared back at her.

"Adaab, Ruqaiya Begum," Maham Anga greeted, her salutation being anything but genuine. "I reckon this jashn is to your liking."

She scoffed internally. If this old woman wanted to rile her up with her fake concern, it was working awfully well.

"Do you expect it to be anything less?" She replied, turning to look at the woman who only grinned at her.

"No, Ruqaiya Begum, absolutely not. I think you might need to take note of a threat, however."

"A threat?" Ruqaiya almost snorted. Had dementia started creeping up on Maham Anga? What threat could this Rajput queen pose to her? "She is nothing, only another prospective notch on Shehenshah's bedpost. If anything, he'd play with her for a few days before discarding her to the side, why should I view her as a threat?"

As if to answer her question, Maham Anga cocked her head to the side and there was the scene that felt way too intimate for Ruqaiya's liking.

She could not miss the way Jalal held on to Jodha's hand as he took a bite from the sweet. This was way too intimate, hell, even scandalous for this to be done in the public eye. Nor could she miss the way he stared at her as if he was longing after...after-

No-. No!

She swallowed at the thought of what she had believed impossible her whole marriage. He could not possibly have a working heart that was slowly starting to beat for this Rajput. How was it even-?

In her thoughts, she had almost forgotten about the older woman who silently observed her facial expressions.

"Now you see what I mean?"

She did and she saw more than enough. Way more than she needed to see.

Like the snake she was, Maham Anga slithered away, leaving Ruqaiya to stew in her thoughts and her plot to instigate chaos.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the two, her mind coming up with ways to exercise her ownership before this Rajput woman would take away her post, her power and her desires

Hell would have to freeze over first before that would even happen.

closing notes: I just want to say that I appreciate the votes and lovely comments and feedback I have received so far. it has been a constant motivation for me to continue writing and I want to say thank you (yes, even to the silent readers 🙏🏾)

for the second part of this note, I am so sorry for the dark turn this is about to take but this is real life and I had to talk about the rape and murder of Dr. Moumita. as a woman, it is horrific and as a human, this should not be happening to anyone at all. this was a woman who was out doing her job to serve humanity and even if she was doing something else like clubbing and whatnot, she did not deserve any of that. no woman should be afraid to work or walk at night and no woman should be scared to party. no woman should be restricted from doing the things she loves because she is scared that she may be harmed, raped and killed. my heart goes out to the women of India protesting #justicefordrmoumita.