If

fire without smoke

She's not sure if Alauddin would like to have a daughter instead of a boy he can turn into himself. It's known that almost all women pray to give birth to a boy, whether he will be an heir to an empire or not, but the thought of a daughter makes whatever's left of her soul happy.

Ila comes into her room with an empty tray to collect what's left from Malika's little breakfast. Her pregnancy affected her appetite quite badly, she barely eats anything. It's hard to tell if it's only the pregnancy causing this problem or having an husband like Alauddin Khilji.

She waits by Mehrunisa's side for her command to leave, eyeing the untouched food on plates with a worried expression.

"What are you waiting for?" She asks, her brows furrowed with attention to her work.

The maid keeps silent, waiting for her to finish the stitch.

Mehrunisa puts away her work, growing impatient. "Talk now." She huffs.

"Didn't you like the food, Malika? I can bring you something else."

Mehrunisa rolls her eyes, taking the cloth in her hands again. "I don't want anything else."

"But you must eat, for the baby, Malika." Ila speaks, trying not to sound too assertive.

"Just bring me milk, then." She says, analyzing the work she did on fabric closely. Her eyes are itchy and dry from sleeplessness. Her sight is slightly blurry, so she keeps stabbing the needle on to her fingers. It does not even sting, the voices in her head so loud. "And something that will help me see what I'm doing here." She shakes the fabric in the air.

Ila nods, still not leaving the spot. She wants to ask about Padmavati. It's been almost a day since she was locked up in there. Khilji went in there in the morning and now the afternoon prayer call is about to be heard. No one else got in or got out, not even a maid to serve food. She's worried about Padmavati and wonders if she went too far by telling her to drop her guard a little. What if she couldn't read Khilji well enough?

"Say it." Mehrunisa talks suddenly, taking her out of thoughts. "You look like you won't leave without telling me what you are keeping in right now."

"I am worried about Padmavati." She blurts out honestly. It seemed like she had no other choice.

Malika raises her eyebrows, looking up to Ila's face. "Well, who isn't?"

"No one went into the room since last night. It's almost time for afternoon prayer. Should I go and ask if-"

"Don't." Malika interrupts. "Sultan doesn't want to be disturbed when he is with his harem."

"But I thought-" She stutters, remembering what Rani Padmavati told her about Mehrunisa last night.

"You are not going to tell me that you came all the way here without hearing a single story about my husband, are you? " Mehrunisa says casually, like Alauddin stories were fairy tales.

Ila bows her head, as if she was ashamed. "Forgive me if I crossed my line, Malika. There are many stories, it's hard to know which ones are true."

"Hardest ones to believe. Those are the true ones." She gets up from the cushion and runs her hands through her dress, flattening the fabric. "I wish Kafur was here to tell you all of them." She says, facing Ila. "He is very strange. The way he acts used to give me chills when Khilji brought him here for the first time. He can be very entertaining when you get used to him, though."
Then, she starts talking about how strange she finds Alauddin's relationship with Kafur and how it becomes a small detail when you look at all the inconceivable things he did.  To Ila, Malika seems like she's trying to get things out of her chest but during the whole talk, she also realizes that there is no emotion left in Mehrunisa other than excitement for her child. The only time her eyes lit up was the moment she was telling about the dress she's making. Other than that, she looked defeated, tired and empty, like a part of her was lost completely.