the desert's rose

my disaster (🏜️🌹)

opening notes: if I had a dollar for every chapter title that is a reference to Seether, I'd have two, which is not a lot but it's funny it'd happen twice 🤔. all jokes aside, this might end up being another long chapter of mine and this is going to feature a battle scene which was one of the hardest parts of this chapter for me 😩

Salima Sultan Begum rarely ventured out of her hojra except for a few occasions when she needed to take in some fresh air out in the Angoori Bagh. But the recent news upset the order she created for herself.

For one, she was not the type to indulge in gossip, in fact, she despised every bit of that and the thought of engaging in such activities unsettled her to the core.

However, in a harem where gossip flew about like a bird ceaselessly wandering about the sky, she had happened to overhear a few words from some of the begums and as a result, her legs took her down this unfamiliar path.

She blamed it on the fact she was more of a homebody as she had to rely on the words of the bandhis and khwaja saras to find her path.

A satisfied sigh of relief escaped her nostrils as she finally came to her destination. At the entrance stood two khwaja saras and one of Jodha Begum's bandhis - Moti. A woman like Moti was tough to forget, in fact, it was far easier to detect her with her flair for the colour yellow, be it her pallu or her dupatta.

Moti seemed to notice her presence as she put her hands together to acknowledge her presence.

"Pranaam, Begum Salima," she said in a subdued voice, not that Salima could blame her. An unhappy mistress equalled unhappy servants as witnessed by the gloomy atmosphere looming around this place.

"Adaab," she responded in kind before stating her reason for being here. "I request an audience with Begum Jodha."

Slowly nodding, Moti retreated into the hojra for a few minutes before reappearing. The bandhi signalled for the khwaja saras to move aside, making space for Salima to be able to walk into the chambers.

Upon entry, Salima could barely hold herself back from reacting appreciatively at the state of the hojra. It was spacious and well-kept with a space created for a murti at the far end.

So, this is Begum Jodha's sacred space, she thought before her eyes landed on the sole figure on the bed in the middle of the hojra.

It did not take any more wisdom for her to know it was none other than Jodha Begum as she stared off into the distance like a catatonic person. The sight unsettled Salima, who was more used to seeing a vibrant Jodha, to the core. This was a far cry from the woman who had sung about Rajput valour right before Jalal and the Mughal court.

She made her way over to Jodha's side. The younger woman was now alert to her presence. Her face was void of makeup and jewelry, her dark brown eyes were dull, and she looked deathly pale.

Salima's heart broke at the sight as she wound her arms around the despondent queen. Her right hand rubbed soothing circles as Jodha's body was wracked with sobs.

Ya Allah, how long has she been in this state?

They parted with Jodha using the peripheral part of her palms to wipe away her tears. Salima was tempted to intervene but suppressed the urge, waiting for her to calm down.

"I'm torn," Jodha finally let out, cutting through the silence. "I don't know how to feel, a war tears through me that I don't know what step to take."

Solemnly, Salima nodded at her, "Let it all out, Jodha Begum."