Currently, the Persian Princess, a woman by the name of Mitra, sat within her eldest brother's palace. She had a gloomy expression on her face as she gazed lifelessly out the window and played with a particular piece of jewelry that her father had once gifted her.
The eldest son of the previous monarch saw that his little sister was in a state of depression, and approached the young woman in an attempt to comfort her.
"Father died an honorable death. You should take solace in that fact. I promise that when I am declared King, I will gather every man capable of bearing arms, and march our forces on the Romans. Titus Claudius Marcellus will pay for his misdeeds, or my name isn't Shapur!"
Despite the intent behind Shapur's words, they did little to calm the Princess's heart. Instead, she responded in the opposite way that the man had expected. With a heavy scoff escaping from her luscious lips, Mitra spoke the words of contempt she had in her heart, not only for her brother, but for her now deceased father as well.
Such a crass remark caused Shapur's brow to twitch in irritation, as he curled his fists in an attempt to calm his wrath. Did his sister seriously just call him foolish for wanting to avenge their father? He could not take this slap in the face lying down and immediately called out to the young woman with a hint of fury in his voice.
"Foolish? Is that what you think of me? If that's the case, why are you here? Did you not come to show your support for my claim?"
It was only now that Mitra gazed upon her brother, and on her lips was an expression of utter contempt. She sighed heavily before standing up from her seat and insulting the man to his face.
"Initially, I thought that perhaps you would make the best King in father's stead. But it seems like whatever madness possessed the man has taken hold of your fragile mind as well. I warned father that his obsession with killing Titus Claudius Marcellus was likely to be his undoing, but he did not listen to me, and now he's dead.
'ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ No(ve) l Bi n',
If you want to march every man in Persia to his death, over a petty act of vengeance, then you have lost my support brother. Perhaps brother Bahram would make a better king of kings than you, after all. Or maybe I should support cousin Khosrow.
There's simply too many choices, and none of you men have enough brains to realize that Rome is undergoing a renaissance. Two years ago, the western half of the Roman Empire was on the verge of total collapse. Yet in a short time, this Emperor Marcellus has stabilized the situation, and expanded his power by reincorporating the east into his domain.
Assuming he reigns for the next five years, it is entirely possible that we will see a Roman Army that even the legions of the ancient past could not defeat. By the time you and your rivals finish your petty squabble for power, Rome will already be beyond your ability to defeat. So it is best if you fool to either settle your disputes quickly, or make peace with Rome.
The last thing I need in this world is to be handed off to that man as a trophy of his conquest of Ctesiphon, which will surely happen if you march on the west. You disappoint me, brother, just like father did during his last days."
Shapur could not take his sister's condescending tone any longer, and immediately pushed her against the wall, where the stench of booze filled the woman's nose. Despite his brutish actions, the young woman was not the least bit afraid, and merely gave the man a pitiful smirk while warning him of the consequences of his actions.
"Careful now, big brother. If you were to do anything to harm me, Bahram would never forgive you. You might find yourself waking up in a puddle of your own blood if you were to form such an irreconcilable grievance with such a psycho. You know how protective he is of his dear little sister..."
Despite having every instinct in his body to smack the young princess across her face, Shapur merely snorted and knocked over a nearby table to vent his rage instead. After doing so, he screamed as loud as he could at his little sister, who he realized had played him like a fool.
"You want to support that little bastard so badly, then do it! Get the fuck out of here before I make you regret stepping foot in my home!"
Mitra smirked once more while she dusted off her dress and approached her eldest brother one last time. She playfully placed a hand on his shoulder before whispering mocking words in his ears.
"See this? This impulsive rage of yours? This is why you will never be the King of Kings. Good bye big brother, if we do end up meeting again, I am sure it will be as enemies..."
After saying this, Mitra scampered off like a little minx. Where she entered a carriage and departed from her eldest brother's palace. The moment she entered the interior, there was a man, garbed in a black robe, who lowered his hood. In doing so, he revealed his Latin features. If any of her brothers were to see this man, they would immediately expect her of treason.
Velius grinned as he saw the pretty smile that formed on the Persian beauty's face. Since she was in such a good mood, he felt compelled to ask what had caused it.
"So, I'm assuming your conversation with your eldest brother went well then?"
A slight giggle erupted from the woman's lips as she nodded her head. She crossed one leg over the other and rested her pretty face on the palm of her hand while wearing a seductive smile. Her charm was extraordinary, and if Velius had not been trained on how to resist such a thing, he surely would have fallen into the woman's hands already.
"Of course, Shapur is nothing more than a dumb brute, and it was rather easy to manipulate him into revealing what his true ambitions are. Imagine my disappointment when I found out that his greatest reason for claiming the vacant throne is for something as stupid as avenging our father's death.
Naturally, this means he will not be open to cooperation with your master, as he is the one responsible for the old man's death. Still, I wonder why you were so confident that I would help Rome spy on my family..."
Velius merely smirked as he heard these words and leaned back into his seat. His lips were sealed on the matter. In truth, he was not the one who came up with the idea to seek out the Persian Princess. The credit for such a risky gamble went to Sigefrida. Velius was just an agent obeying his orders. All he ended up saying was a minor deflection.
"Your cooperation is most appreciated."
It was at this moment that Mitra's eyes turned dark, while a frown appeared on her face. She had taken a monumental risk, and there was only one thing she wanted in return. Thus, she was quick to remind the agent of the Frumentarii what he had promised her.
"Just remember your end of the bargain..."
Despite the grim tone in the woman's voice, Velius retained his confident smirk and quickly expressed his agreement with the woman's terms.
"Of course... Once you have proven your loyalty, I will gladly introduce you to the Imperator. However, until I know for sure whether you intend him any harm, you will have to continue proving your use."
Mitra merely scoffed before ignoring the man. For the rest of their journey, she remained utterly silent.