Sanyukta caressed her journal lovingly. She had surprised herself. What started as a mere whim on Anokhi's suggestion, to enable herself to pass the time in her beloved's absence,  her journal had become a virtual chronicle of her life, with details about her background and her family, her meeting with Randhir during the journey to Rajputana, the blossoming of their clandestine romance and her dramatic elopement and subsequent marriage. She hoped that some day in the future the records could provide her children and grandchildren a brief narrative of their nativity. "You know something baby? Your father is going to love you twice as much as I do, and I cannot wait to give him the news of your arrival. Let me tell you a little more about how our bond was cemented during our march from Bengal to Rajputana, the most beautiful experience of my life!" Sanyukta loved to speak to her unborn child while she wrote her diary.

A many chapter reminisced about her secret nightly visits to her beloved's tent. One night she had to wait a long time before her family members fell into a deep slumber. She took off and hid her heavy silver jhaanjhars lest they alert anyone. By the time she stole into Randhir's tent he had given up hope of seeing her that night. The thought had made him restless, her presence and the feel of her warm body nestled in his arms was headier than opium. For weeks he had battled the ongoing conflict between his mind and his heart. It went against propriety to be canoodling with the girl whose security had been assigned to him. On the other hand she had come to him willingly and both had fallen in love, wanting to spend and cherish their stolen moments without missing a single day.

She let herself into his tent  noiselessly and hurried to him, throwing her odhni off and lying down beside him. "You must not be here Baisa, if your family notices that you are out of bed there will be trouble!" He spoke involuntarily. It was an automated response, quite unlike what he felt about her presence next to him. He longed to make her his, the temptation to possess her fully was growing inside him and he worried about the consequences of throwing caution to the wind. "Do you want me to leave?" She asked him simply. He sat up suddenly, unable to process what he was feeling. "How does it matter what I want? We need to do what is right instead. In a few weeks you are to be wed off to a man chosen by your father! How hard is it for you to remember that?" He sighed, he could hardly believe he was mouthing these platitudes again.

She rose, placing herself before him. "Both of us know what we really want. My body, my choice! I refuse to be a sacrificial lamb at my father's altar. Just hold me close and kiss me, let us banish these unworthy thoughts. This is our time, let us just love each other and forget about everything else. She snaked her arms around him, pressing herself hard against his body, letting his heart match the beating of her own. As she lifted her face upward to him he closed her mouth with his, kissing her passionately as the touch of her warm skin dispelled his inhibitions. Soon they were lying in each other's arms and their lips made love to each other, while he slipped his hands into her bodice, playing with her perky firmness which quivered with pleasure at his touch.

"I want to be the only woman you will ever lay with. Promise me you will not give my place to anyone else." She could not bear the thought of sharing him with anyone else. "You are asking me to do something I may have little control over. By the end of this journey you may well be married off to another man yourself. Can I then ask you to be exclusively mine? I am a Rajut of noble birth, we are expected to have several companions. A bee goes from flower to flower to drink nectar, Baisa! It may linger over the sweetness of one flower for a longer time but eventually it traverses the whole garden, seeding each flower it visits and causing it to bear fruit." Both knew what the rules of the game were, yet both longed to make an exception in each other's case. "I know your people take many wives for political reasons, but you cannot possibly love them all." She said defensively. 

"The Mughals have bigger harems than us Baisa, because their stakes are higher." He responded. "Why do Rajputs marry their daughters to the Mughals then? Where is the honour in that?" She found it hard to believe the Rajput rulers sent their precious daughters to join the bulging Mughal harems. "Our people, the Kachhwahas, are the most guilty of this offence, and I am hardly proud of that Baisa. Our girls lose caste and never return to their parental homes. Their offspring are raised in another faith and when the women die they are entombed instead of having their bodies confined to flames, whereas in their childhood tales of misplaced bravado of the many Satis and Jauhars are narrated to them. Kachhwahas chose to perpetuate this contradiction by becoming vassals to the Mughal overlords. As much as I hate that it is true! History will judge the Rajputs for this among their many other flaws." The comfort level they had established helped them bond over such ongoing conversation.

Even as Sanyukta painted the tapestry of her memories about Randhir in her journal, Vidushi was getting impatient. Tara, true to her word and to her heart's desire, had managed to convey the gossip of her dalliance with Randhir, adding as much spice as she could to the rawala or women's quarters in Vidushi's father's haveli. She even managed to intimidate the eligible girls Shubhra and Prabhavati who immediately conveyed their unwillingness to marry Randhir, with the fear of having to play second fiddle to the skilled Tara in their potential husband's marital bed. The girls were backed by their equally convinced mothers who did not want their daughters to have to compete with Tara for their husband's attention. Tara's skills of seduction as a courtesan were legendary. 

 The situation was turning into a diplomatic nightmare for Vidushi. She had eagerly brought forth the proposal of offering Randhir a bride from among her cousins for her own reasons. Now that the girls had both conveyed their unwillingness she was about to lose face. How was she to explain to her in-laws that Tara, an estranged daughter of one of her uncles had spun an intricate web of intrigue to beat Vidushi at her own game? It was time for drastic measures, some hard decisions had to be taken no matter how preposterous a solution they seemed. Vidushi summoned her kid sister Ratnavali to her, sitting her down and explaining something at length to her. Ratna listened incredulously, expressing her own doubts and inhibitions, leading Vidushi to use a diplomatic approach to manage to convince her to do what she wanted. By the end of the afternoon Vidushi spoke to her own parents and then to her father-in-law and to her husband Parth. Both men were taken aback at her suggestion, wondering what had prompted Vidushi to take such an unusual step.