Akbar had not spoken to her in seven days.
Ruqaiya’s expression softened for a fraction of a second. “Because I did not marry a fool. I married Akbar. And a fool would believe Maham Anga. Help him see the truth, Jodha. Not for you. For him.”
Ruqaiya entered without permission, her jewels glinting like shards of ice. “I told you, did I not? In this court, blood means nothing. Only suspicion.”
For the first time in days, the palace slept without whispers.
Jodha stepped forward, fearless. She took the scroll and held it to the candle. “Look closely, Jalal. The ink is fresh . The seal is a replica—the left tusk of the elephant emblem is chipped. My father’s seal has a perfect tusk. This is forgery.”
