"The Grand Vizier's suggestion is truly alarming. I need time to think it over carefully."
On the golden throne, Bahram wearily pinched the bridge of his nose.
The eunuch behind him promptly offered a cup of fragrant tea, but he merely waved it away irritably.
The Franks had openly raised the banner of his rebellious younger brother to divide the court, while their lightning-fast offensive had created an almost unstoppable momentum.
Only heaven knew how much courage to resist would remain among the nobles of Ctesiphon and Baghdad once news of Hadiseh's fall reached them.
Exile was naturally the worst possible option.
If he could win, Bahram would never have entertained such thoughts. The Franks' sudden Lightning Offensive had filled Bahram, who had once looked down on these barbarians, with immense fear.
He simply could not understand how the Franks had managed it. Even if the enemy had a demonic dragon aiding them and the city's spellcasters could not hold out, could they not even send back a message?
Seeing that Bahram seemed somewhat swayed, Governor Ali grew anxious.
If he fled north, what status would he, the Atabeg of Jazira, still possess? Would his Iqta territory, manor, workshops, and trading houses not all become the Franks' property?
"Your Majesty, you must not! If you truly believe Mustafa's nonsense, would that not be the same as handing legitimacy and righteousness over to him?"
In his urgency, he did not even use an honorific, directly calling Mustafa by name.
"Saladin at least died for his country, fighting the heathens to his final breath beneath the imperial city walls of Damascus. That is why the Ayyubids can still hold one region through the righteous cause of 'resisting the heathens.'"
"And now the Abbasid region has only a corner of Azerbaijan left. It