Upon revealing Alexander's true identity through the silk portrait she possessed, Queen Qaydafeh smiled at his audacity and sharp tongue. Looking upon the monarch of Rûm, she imparted profound wisdom: 'O lion-hearted king, do not swell your head with pride. It was not solely by your own strength that Fur of India was slain or Dara son of Darab overthrown; rather, the wheel of fortune turned in your favor, and your star shone bright in the heavens. Attribute all your victories to the Almighty, and remain grateful to Him for as long as you live. How can you claim supreme wisdom when you have willingly walked straight into the dragon's maw, sewing your own shroud in the flower of youth by masquerading as a mere envoy?'
Yet, Qaydafeh reassured him of her noble principles: 'It is neither my custom to shed blood needlessly nor to engage in reckless strife with sovereigns. He who spills the blood of kings shall inherit nothing but hellfire in the end. Rest safe in my halls, but swear never again to travel in the guise of a messenger. To preserve your secret from my court, I shall continue to call you Bitqon while you remain here. I shall send you back in peace, provided you pledge never to harbour ill will against my realm, my children, or my kin, and to treat me as your equal.'
Relieved and filled with joy at escaping mortal peril, Alexander swore a solemn oath by the Creator of the universe, the faith of the Messiah, and the holy dust of battle. He vowed that toward Qaydafeh's lands, her children, and her nobles, he would bring only righteousness and goodwill, harboring no treachery or malice. With the oath concluded, Qaydafeh warned him of a lingering danger: 'My son Taynush is headstrong and often disregards my counsel, and the son-in-law of Fur burns with a desire for vengeance. Should he discover that you are Alexander himself, he would set heaven and earth ablaze to avenge his kinsman. Keep your mask tight, step joyfully into the feast, and cast away the cares of the world.'