Padmavati looks at the mirror one more time, but she can not recognize herself in the outfit Khilji made her wear.

She's covered in layers of clothing, a gold, shimmery petticoat hides her skin from her neck to her wrists and a burgundy kaftan with delicate golden embroidery glorifies her feminine figure more than anything she had worn before.

The way the kaftan hugs the curve of her waist, fits her broad shoulders is magnificent. The fabric suits her body like a second skin, she almost feels naked. Indeed, she's naked in a sense; because this dress uncovers her power while hiding the body underneath.

Padmavati is very aware of this effect and she gets shivers everytime her glance meets her reflection, thinking of who could have made such a dress that defines her so well in every possible way.

"I feel that you are liking this dress, Ranisa." says a maid who is bringing the headpiece which is going to complete the attire.

Padmavati nods, running her hands over the silk fabric.

The headpiece matches with the dress perfectly, thin chains of plain gold frames Padmavati's face and layers of red fabric that reaches around her waist, covers her hair completely. She didn't think this could get any more beautiful than it already was, but it did. Now, she wanted to know who thought of this dress, this delicate patterns of embroidery and the unique combinations of the fabrics.

"Mashaallah, Ranisa. May God keep you from evil eye. You look like a dream."

Padmavati turns away from her reflection, facing the maid. "I am not a Rani here." She says nonchalantly, her insides twisting with worry as she walks to window that sees the palace's great doors.

While she is deep in thought about recent days' events, Gulnar compliments her look multiple times but gets ignored by Padmavati until she blabs something out that makes her blood freeze.

"Our Sultan has great taste of dressing... He also knew your measurements perfectly. The tailors made their best, well, not like they had any other choice; no one wants to face his anger after what happened with the door... Umm... But now I am sure Sultan will be satisfied with the result."

Padmavati jumps to her feet from the divan she was sitting at, taking the heavy headpiece off and throwing it behind. "Did Khilji make this dress?"

Gulnar leans forward to pick it up, but she gives up when she meets Padmavati's furious eyes.

"Tell me the truth now, Gulnar." She commands calmly but sternly at the same time, unaware the fact that she's scaring the life out of Gulnar even with her presence.

The maid takes a step back in return to Padmavati's every step, her voice is lost somewhere in the darkness that flows from Rani's eyes. She is a girl who gets scared easily and most of the time unnecessarily, but this time what she's experiencing is so tough and solid that it screams danger. And so does Gulnar.

"Sultan designed the dress, Ranisa. He told the tailors how to do it and they did." She blurts out, her eyes closed and her face turned to the side as a result of Padmavati's cornering her to a wall.

Padmavati's tensed shoulders and balled fists find relief the moment she gets what she wants. She lets go of the breath she didn't realise she was holding. As if her rage is a dark cloud that hangs in the air, it rains down on its target until the thunders in her mind is silenced by the right words.

The confused Rani steps away and lets the scared girl catch her breath, shocked about what just happened. She almost felt like her feet lost the ground while she was towering over Gulnar with the kind of fury she had never experienced before. This is not how Padmavati reacts, she thinks to herself. Can pregnancy cause this?

Gulnar decides to leave the room without asking Padmavati who is now looking regretful. Her hand over her tired heart, she almost gets another heart attack when Ila barges into the room coincidentally.

Ila instantly realises that something is wrong when she sees Padmavati leaning over the window, her hands firmly holding onto the wall. She also hears Gulnar reciting three different prayers in three winks as she literally runs away from the room.

"Malika-i Jahan wants to see you, Ranisa." Ila says, picking up the headpiece from the floor. She starts detangling the golden chains and messy fabric layers while she's waiting for an answer from Padmavati.

Padmavati remains silent as she takes slow steps, moving her hands to her belly. The dress does a good job of hiding it but she doesn't know if the other dresses Khilji prepared for her will do the same. She can't make sense of what she just did, was it the reflection of herself that made her ignite like that? Or was it his soul that the dress carries? Perhaps it was just the pregnancy. Whatever it was, Padmavati was strongly convinced that it had something to do with the dress. Goosebumps raise all over her skin and fear fills her veins when she thinks of the possibility of Khilji's spirit rubbing onto her through the things he touched. She knew he was evil, but she never thought the disease of the heart can be passed on to others. At that moment, The Queen of Chittorgarh who never feared anything in her life, feared losing her guidance so much that if her faith and purity were a limb, she would've pinch it to make sure that it's still there.

"You look... Different. In a good way." Ila says, cautiously inspecting her queen during the time they walk together to Mehrunisa's room.

What most people counted as a blessing, her beauty, started to make Padmavati feel like it's a curse. "I know, Ila. I know."

***

3 DAYS AGO

Mehrunisa lays asleep in her bed, an army of midwives surrounding her. There is a deep silence in the room, it is similar to the silence which occurred when Padmavati was ill. They are waiting quietly, just like they had waited for Padmavati to die.

Few hours ago, Khilji's musical performance was interrupted by Malika's ear piercing scream. Initially, he did not recognize her voice but it made everyone froze in their places. When she screamed again, Alauddin felt her pain through the sound. It echoed in him for a few seconds and brought him back to reality from the euphoric world he was lost in.

Servants rushed into her room, she kept moaning and crying in pain less loudly. Some of the maids came out of the room and ran towards different parts of palace. They came back carrying lots of things and with more people, but Mehrunisa's cries did not stop.

Alauddin watched it all from the hall, standing on the same exact spot. He had a very precise idea of what might have triggered it and untill Padmavati physically shook him back to the moment, his feet did not have the strength nor the audacity to run to her aid.

"She was almost having a miscarriage, Sultan. It is very dangerous for her to even move at this condition. She will have to stay in bed for the rest of the pregnancy." An elderly midwife speaks with a depressing severity.

"Rest of the pregnancy?" Khilji questions, looking at a very colourless, uncomfortable version of Malika-i Jahan.

"Seven months." Mehrunisa says, very quietly.

Khilji looks around the room to see his wife's prison of seven months. As if spending her life between the harem walls was not enough, her space was narrowed down to a bed. Because of him.

The maids left the room without any objection when Sultan gave them the glare to do so, but they all searched for Malika's approval with their eyes. Everyone loved and respected Mehrunisa for what she was. She carried her nobleness like a dress that was made just for her, from her cheerful young years to the age she has to carry pain like a proud soldier carries his scars. Women of the palace looked upto her despite her bad fortune.

"I caused your pain. I made you angry, I... I wasn't the husband you deserve at all." Khilji starts, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "I accept that I have been unfair to you. In every aspect I can think of... I was unfair."

When Alauddin looks at her, he sees what's beyond the wrinkles around her eyes, pale shade of her lips and her faded color, the uniqueness that started his passion for beauty. "Your beauty is unique, Mehru. And it is worth so much more than a feather of an ostrich."

He gains a small laughter from her, it is a careless one that does not reach her eyes but she keeps listening wondering where this dream will go. Khilji managed to be so convincing that Mehrunisa thinks that all of this is an ongoing nightmare that is caused by her afternoon nap.

"Forgive me, Mehrunisa, for all that I had put you through."

She could not see this even in her dreams, though. This is really happening, she thinks.

"Why?" Mehrunisa questions as calmly as possible, fighting back the urge to sit up with excitement.

Khilji looks down, knowing that if he speaks his mind this time, everything will be worse. He states the obvious instead. "You are carrying our child."

Mehrunisa is touched, but more importantly she's shocked at the gentleness of his words. She never imagined him saying these things with such calm, caring attitude. "Why do you need my forgiveness now, out of all times?"

It is true that he needs her forgiveness and Khilji does not object that, even though it slightly stings his ego. Yet, his tongue is not used to console a person in pain. Any words that are kind left a strange taste on his mouth and he felt unsatisfied with his speech. He almost felt like he was using his left hand to write, as he favours his right.

"I feel like this was the worst... The worst thing you..." He stutters and it shockes Mehrunisa beyond her mind can conceive. Is he really apologizing for something he did, or is he planning something worse?

Alauddin does not know either. His tongue knows how to cut wounds and reopen old ones, it knows how to decieve and how to manipulate but it fails this mission. At that point, Khilji moves on with the experience he has gained over the years.

He scoots closer to her in bed and Mehrunisa's mind races over the possibilities, things he could do while she's in such vulnerable state.

He leans forward, leaving only few centimetres between them. Mehrunisa presses her palms against the bed, leaning back as much as her position allows. Khilji tuts, moving her long, wavy locks away from her face. Where his words fail, his body takes over. He meets her eyes for a second to let her know that her fear is needless. Mehrunisa releases the tension on her arms and the moment she does, Khilji's lips touch her forehead. And there it was, his enchanting touch which stood completely seperate from his evilness. The touch that made Mehrunisa forget about all he had done, the reason Mehrunisa woke up with hope after they spend a night together.

Mehrunisa rests on Alauddin's chest, his arms wrapped around her torso. Before reality kicks in and the very rare silence of her mind is destroyed, she manages to take a few peaceful breaths and it feels like she spent a lifetime somewhere all this pain does not exist. Although Khilji is now believing that he does not deserve this power of making her dissolve in his arms, which is clearly given to him by her undying love, he knows he won't regret using it. She was his by the heart and if he has a chance use it to relieve her pain, contrary to the times he hurt her with it, he is determined to use it till the end.

By the time Mehrunisa opens her eyes back to the reality, she sees that Khilji is leaving already.

"Was this a goodbye, Alauddin?" She asks to his back as the questions related to this one floods her mind.

"I'll see you again, Malika-i Jahan." Khilji doesn't look back as he walks out of the door.

***

"What a beauty, mashaallah..." Mehrunisa says with a tired smile, bringing her hands to her temples. The superstitious evil eye protection gesture. The irony widens her smile, she has the most evil pair of eyes on her and they desired to see her like this.

Padmavati stops at the entrance of Malika's room and hesitantly waits for approval, Mehrunisa's sarcastic smile making her feel unsure.

Malika shakes her head and gestures her to come closer. "Come, sit next to me Ranisa. I've been waiting for you."

Padmavati was left with no choice when Khilji ordered her to wear this and again, when Mehrunisa wanted to see her right before they left. She feels ashamed walking into her room like this. She knows how deep Mehrunisa's sadness is and coming here all dressed up like she is enjoying herself, makes her blush in embarrassment.

"I didn't have any other option." Padmavati says pointing to the dress, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Mehrunisa nods. "I know. It is okay."

Padmavati looks down, not knowing how to console a woman who's condemned to the bed for the life of her child. She wishes she had the words, but she doesn't.

"I called you here to say goodbye, Padmavati."

Padmavati forces a smile. "I wouldn't want to go without seeing you either. How are you feeling now, Malika?"

Mehrunisa starts talking, her eyes fixed to a candle, giving the sense that this will be a long conversation. "Well, not to be pessimistic but I feel like I am losing my shape, Padmavati. It is getting harder for me to guess the next step of Alauddin day by day."

Untill this point, she was thinking that Mehrunisa was going to say a simple goodbye. Now she knows it will be complicated and terribly worrisome.

"I used to think I have mastered this skill, predicting him... But few days ago he came to my room and asked for forgiveness. My forgiveness." She examines the pattern of her bedsheets blankly, her mind stops working for a moment with the surprisement again.

Padmavati did not expect this. Not at all.

"I have watched him grow from a boy to a man. He never does such things. Apologies, giving excuses... Never. I've been thinking for a reason why he did it now." Malika raises her arms to the air and lets them fall to the bed with a loud thud. "Look at me. Look how people look at me." She says, looking at Ila whose eyes wander worriedly between Mehrunisa and Padmavati. "I am dying and he knows it."

"What are you saying, Malika?" Padmavati blurts out a little loudly, her eyes wide open in shock.

"We will all die someday, Ranisa. This is not why I called you here." Mehrunisa's careless manner and the seriousness in her voice freaks Padmavati out even more.

"Don't talk like that, Mehrunisa, you are Malika-i Jahan! Your child needs you, this palace, this empire needs-" She entirely rejects this thought, raising her voice.

"No, Padmavati, no... I know that you think I am capable of managing this." She says, raising one hand to the air and Padmavati locks eyes with Mehrunisa. "I was capable. Before you."

The moment she sees the emptiness in Mehrunisa's eyes, Padmavati wants to vanish from this room, from the face of earth and never come back. She knows where this conversation is going and what Mehrunisa is going to hold her responsible with; and God knows, she would run away from it if she could.

"The weak but steady voice of his conscience, the guilt. That was what I managed to be. In his heart, I was the part which reminded him that he is not a good man. But does the headache keep a man from getting drunk? The headache." Mehrunisa smiles bitterly.

"This is not true, Malika, you have been much more. There is more!" Padmavati feels the air leaving her lungs, knowing what is more to come.

"If the guilt does not keep you from sinning, what does, Padmavati?" Mehrunisa insists for an answer.

And Padmavati fights with her all to not to take her only friend's death wish as a responsibilty while it is risking her own child's life. "How can I stop him, Mehrunisa, for all these years if you couldn't find a way, how can a stranger exorcise the demon in him?"

"Answer me first."

"To fix a soul like his we need gods to come down to the earth. And years of time. I have only few months before the truth starts to reveal itself." Padmavati whisper yells, hardly containing her frustration from this situation and her anger towards Khilji.

"Answer the question, Padmavati, you have what it takes."

"So did you, Malika. Please... Do not burden me with a will I can not fulfil." The Queen of Chittorgh is begging now. She knows she'll never have peace of mind if she can't fulfil her death wish but it is just so heavy to take in.

"No one has what you have now." Mehrunisa says holding Padmavati's gold covered wrists gently. "Love. He loves you. Truly, deeply and passionately, more than anything he did before. You are not a stranger, how can the heart be a stranger to the body?"

Padmavati feels tears filling her eyes. "He can not love. He can pretend like he does but in truth, there is nothing in him in the name of light." She spits her bare, unfiltred opinion of him.

"You'll be the light." Mehrunisa says, her voice cracking. "Look at you, Padmavati. Really, look at you. You look like you can bring the sun on earth."

"I can not even stay here." Padmavati shakes her head, not hearing a word from Mehrunisa's mouth. "I have to go... And it's all arranged."

Mehrunisa takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She didn't have much hope of convincing her and now that she found out that she has a chance to get away from all of this, she has to turn it into a choice.

"The time you spent here, each day gave you more power. You came here as a servant and this morning the palace were ordered to call you Rani. I will not even mention the dress, as you seem very influenced by it, whether you like it or not. We give power to the ones we love and trust, Padmavati. Look at the mirror when you question your capability. For the rest, I trust your conscience more than I trust mine."

There, the word conscience echoes more than dozens of times in Padmavati's mind. It gets louder and bigger each time, mixing with other sounds. It mixes with Ratan's voice, screams of women jumping into Jauhar and those who couldn't, the vain pleas of mercy which Khilji ignored successfully all the way through the palace but she kept hearing and finally, the voice that Alauddin's steel armour creates as he walks on the earth like he owns it.

"Rani Padmavati." His voice fills the room. It is strong, demanding and awfully familiar to hear.

If she were the woman she had been a few hours ago, she would hesitate to turn back and look at his face when she feels his presence right behind her. However, now Padmavati takes a graceful turn to face him and meets his eyes without a doubt of not being strong enough.

"Sultan." She greets him simply.