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"Someone is planting evidence," Rahim murmurs. "The question is—does the Emperor want to see it?"
Ruqaiya reads aloud a manipulated version: "The lion of Amer waits. When the moon darkens, strike the iron pillar."
But the true venom lies in a single scroll—a letter intercepted by Akbar's spies. It suggests that the Rajput queens of the harem, led by Jodha, have been sending coded messages to their homeland, plotting to weaken the empire from within.
Jodha agrees without flinching. "But," she says, "let the coals be prepared by a neutral priest—neither Hindu nor Muslim. And let the Emperor watch. Unblinking."
Akbar rises. "Then explain the metaphor. What is the iron pillar?"
He takes her hand. "Then teach me to garden."
"That night, my father learned what my mother always knew—the greatest conquest is not of land, but of the heart."
The courtyard is prepared at dusk. The coals glow red. Akbar stands on a raised platform, his face a mask. Ruqaiya smirks behind her veil.
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