Heir of Aurelian

161 Creating a Puppet Part II



Mitra sat within the palace that belonged to the youngest of her three brothers. A young man by the name of Narseh. The man was chosen by the Roman Emperor to act as the next high King of the Persian people. Naturally, this was not something Mitra would tell the man, or else he would surely accuse of her treason, and rightfully so.

Instead, the beautiful young princess sat in her chair, while drinking a cup of fortified wine that had been imported from Rome to her brother’s palace. The skin on her legs was exposed, as her tan skin glistened under the light of the moon.

There was a reason that at least one of her brothers was infatuated with the woman, and that was not only because of her natural beauty but also her personality that was akin to a femme fatale. Of course, the Persian Princess wore many masks, and around her brother Narseh, she played the role of an innocent and naïve little girl. One that compelled the man to protect her at any costs.

“Big brother, I hove spoken with both brother Shapur, and Bahram. Each of which has their own vision for our Empire once they ascend to the throne. But I still don’t know what you intend to do? Don’t tell me you intend to march our armies on Rome in an act of vengeance on behalf of our late father?”

Narseh merely chuckled at this comment. He had his own opinions about their father’s delusions of conquering the Romans, but he did not dare speak them when the man was alive. However, now Yazdegerd was dead, and thus there was no reason to keep these thoughts locked away within the depths of his own heart.

“Dearest sister, you can rest assured, I have no plans for military expansion like our father, it was his choices that led to his own death. Emperor Marcellus is a military commander like no other man in our era. It would be foolish to march on him, especially when the society he has created is purely martial in nature.

You have to understand the Roman Empire that exists beneath the rule of Titus Claudius Marcellus is not an entity the likes we have ever seen before. The entirety of the current Roman State exists to fuel the military, and it is the military itself which rules over the Empire. It would be accurate to say that the Rome of today is not an Empire with a military, but a military with an Empire.

Against such a martial culture, how are we to fare if we seek vengeance? Our forces, along with our eastern roman allies, were crushed beneath the boot of the western roman war machine, and it only increases in power with each passing day. We would be lucky if Marcellus simply deems our meagre state too troublesome to bother with conquest.

Shapur is a brute who wants nothing more than to avenge our father. His whole bid for the throne is for the sake of this vain attempt. Even if we were to emerge victorious from such a devastating conflict, the man has no plans for the future.

Meanwhile Bahram seeks military expansion. His goal is to become supreme hegemon of both the Mediterranean and the near east. To accomplish this, he would need to fight Marcellus head on. A war he might be capable of winning if he were to engage in subterfuge like he is known to do.”

Mitra wore an innocent smile as she silently nodded her head along with her brother’s assessment. What the man said was accurate, and it was one of the very reasons she did not support her other two broths. Once Narseh was finished speaking his piece, the girl cocked her brow before posing another question to the man..

pan,d a-n0vel “Brother, you still haven’t answered my question… What do you intend to do if you become the next Shah?”

A confident smile emerged on Narseh’s face as he drank a sip of his wine before explaining his plans to his dearest little sister.

“My plan is to focus on the internal development of our Empire. So long as the Romans consider us a valuable gateway into the markets of the far east, they will not easily make war with us. This will allow me to focus on building an Empire as grand as our ancient ancestors. Who knows, I might even be able to rebuild Persepolis given enough time and resources.

Unfortunately, the majority of the nobles in our realm do not share my vision for a more peaceful, and prosperous future. This is the reason why both Bahram and Shapur are gathering more power as the days pass, while my base stagnates.

It would appear the majority of our people desire Roman blood after our father’s defeat. Something I know will be the end of our civilization. If not the end, then at the very least will cast us into centuries of darkness. So, my dear little sister, allow me to pose a question of my own. Who in your infinite wisdom have you chosen to support? Or are you still pretending to play neutral?”

Mitra’s lips curved into a smirk when she heard her brother’s questions. She downed the rest of her wine before sitting up straight in her chair. After doing so, she placed one knee over the other and rested her pretty face on the palm of her hand. With a shift in her tone that sounded rather seductive from an outside perspective, she spoke the words that Narseh was never expecting.

“Initially, I thought I would sit this one out. After all, succession crises are bloody business, and I’d rather not lose my head like poor Khosrow. However, after hearing you speak about your vision for the future of our people. You can consider me convinced.”

A cunning smirk revealed itself upon Narseh’s brow as he too finished his wine before responding to his sister’s statement.

“Finally, you show your true colors. I always wondered what you had done to gain that deceitful bastard’s infatuation. Yet after hearing your true voice, even I now find myself suddenly charmed by your allure.”

A seductive smirked appeared on Mitra’s lips as she scoffed at her brother’s so-called compliment. She pushed him away with her foot before lecturing him on his choice of words.

“Careful brother, you don’t want to end up like that fool Bahram, hopelessly in love with his own little sister, and willing to commit all kinds of heinous acts to keep potential suitors away. Speaking of, you are aware what brother Bahram will do to you if I openly declare that I am supporting your bid for the throne, do you not?”

It was now Narseh’s turn to scoff as he poured himself and his sister another glass of wine. He took a small sip and wiped the red substance from his lips before responding to the woman’s taunts.

“Oh, I am well aware of what he will try to do to me. However, no matter who you support, he would never harm a hair on your precious little head, so even if he does emerge victorious in this little war of ours, you have nothing to fear.

Despite this, I feel like there is much more value in what I would gain from having your support, then the difficulties I would have to endure because of it. So if you really are going to throw your support behind my claim for the vacant throne. Then all I can do is humbly accept.”

Upon hearing this, a smile once more emerged on Mitra’s face as she nodded her head in satisfaction before responding.

“Don’t worry, I will keep Bahram’s wrath away from you long enough to snake the crown away from his control. I look forward to working with you brother, or should I say my King!”

With this said, Narseh had unknowingly ended up as a pawn in the hands of the Roman Emperor. One whose leash was controlled by his own sister.


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