::Pomegranate Excerpt::

"...he that knoweth not good from evil is blameless; but he that knoweth good and evil, to him it is given according to his desires; whether he desireth good or evil, life or death, joy or remorse of conscience." (Alma 24:4-5).

Here is an excerpt from my novel I just finished (as in the whole thing is written and it still has a long journey ahead before I can send it to a publisher).  The story takes place in Mughal India (hence that post with Mughal Empire Art).  This is in Chapter Four, and I thought it was good for a sneak preview because it doesn't give much away and it's short. The only background knowledge you need is this: Morgiana is betrothed to Mazahir; a wealthy, powerful man with three wives already, and this is written from Pakorus's perspective (he's a man, since you probably don't know from the name).

::Pomegranate Excerpt::

“Uncle, I will have to marry someone,” Morgiana said, suddenly blushing, though I didn't know why. She had been bold enough to talk to me about marriage—someone she ought never to talk to—especially about marriage.

“Yes, yes,” Master Elhawari said. “I guess we'd best get that done sooner rather than later so you don't have to worry about pests like Mazahir.”

“True…” Morgiana said, and addressed me, “Pakorus, what would I need in a husband to make my father happy?”

I glanced from Elhawari to Morgiana uncomfortably, and I wasn’t about to answer—it was completely inappropriate for me to talk to her—but Elhawari cleared his throat expectantly, so I said: “He would have to have a good family background.”

“Oh…” Morgiana seemed to ponder. “A man with a good family background… that certainly isn’t Mazahir… What is the best way to learn a man's background?”

I shrugged, “Asking their neighbors is the best way to know, I think.”

“Aw, yes,” she looked as though she had just remembered something. “Just like I heard about your parents—even though I never met them—my servant knew the tribe that you came from. Your parents were very respected for their honesty and piety and your mother… wasn't she a princess of her tribe?”

“Uh, yes,” I said, because she was, though I was a little embarrassed. My mother was one princess among many, many princesses and it was a little deceiving to call her a princess when the tribe that she came from was so very poor. Truly, of both my parents, my mother's background was much more humble. Of course, I couldn't say anything to straighten Elhawari out—you should never say anything against your family—not ever.

“And your father was a wealthy trader. Did my servant tell me right?”

“Yes,” I said again, feeling awkward under Elhawari's curious gaze.

Morgiana laughed, “You’re right, Pakorus! See how much I know about you through other people? There aren’t many people I know who come from a family as good as yours… What else does a husband need, Pakorus?” she pressed.

I swallowed and watched the hem of Morgiana’s embroidered red dress swishing as she paced. “Enough to provide for his wife, but I'm sure your father—”

“Enough to provide for his wife…” she paced a while as she thought longer.

“I know just the person!” Elhawari startled us both by shouting, and then he looked a little chagrined, “Oh… never mind. I don’t know where he is anymore… But maybe—”

"Aren't you going to inherit the caravansary from your uncle?” Morgiana said to me suddenly.

“I…” I was a little confused. Had Morgiana sensed that her uncle did not like me? Was that why she was doing this? “Yes, I will.”

I glanced up and saw her smile at me. “You are blessed by the gods, Pakorus,” she said. “You will marry well, I’m sure.”

“Thank you,” I said, still extremely uncomfortable.

“You’re educated as well, aren’t you, Pakorus?” Elhawari asked, stroking his beard as he looked at me.

“Well, I…”

“Aren’t you?” he snapped impatiently.

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my temper—what did this have to do with anything?

“I warrant you’re a Muslim,” he said, frowning.

Morgiana looked worriedly between us both.

“I am.”

“Well, there are worse things… Listen!” Master Elhawari said suddenly so that Morgiana jumped. 

“Morgiana! I will have your father marry you to Pakorus!”

I think my mouth fell open then.

“Uncle!” Morgiana exclaimed with a convincing act of delighted surprise—though I caught the sly look she 
sent me as she hugged her uncle around the neck, “That's a wonderful idea!”

I couldn’t help noticing how pleased she looked.

“Well, what do you say to that, boy!?” Master Elhawari demanded, apparently disappointed by my reaction. “Isn't she beautiful?”

I closed my mouth and I think I was flushed all over. Morgiana and her family did not seem to have any sense of what was and was not appropriate, but I did not want to argue with Master Elhawari again. “Yes,” I said, I tried to avoid meeting eyes with Morgiana again, but we did anyways, “she is very beautiful.”

“Well, we could do worse than you, even if you are a Muslim,” Elhawari was saying. “I think your children cannot turn out too badly with Morgiana as your wife… then again, even Mazahir might have been able to have handsome children because of her…” I was having a hard time paying full attention to what he was saying until he snapped, “And aren't you happy?”

“I'm… overwhelmed, Master Elhawari,” I said truthfully. Uncle Rarshi says it's better to lie to a lion than it is to be an honest man between its teeth. I preferred partial-truths, and the truth was—I was not happy. I was very worried. I did not believe that Master Elhawari could persuade Morgiana's father to break off her engagement for me, and if he did… I couldn't even imagine what Mazahir would do to me and Morgiana if he got the chance.