When King Kasra Noshinravan awoke from his slumber and beheld the wise Bozorgmehr standing before him, gloomily biting his lip in deep silence, mistrust flared within the monarch's chest. Suspecting that the vizier had divined some ominous truth or harbored hidden malice, the King lashed out in sudden rage, crying that though he held the throne, his body was crafted of dust, wind, and fire like any mortal, and none had the right to probe his inner nature. Kasra rained bitter reproaches upon his counselor, yet the sagacious Bozorgmehr offered no reply save for a cold sigh, realizing that the turns of the celestial sphere had ushered in his downfall and that silence was his only shield. Wrathful and unyielding, the King mounted his steed amid his assembled host in the lush meadow and rode straight back to the royal palace, refusing even to glance at his minister along the way. Upon arriving, Kasra commanded that a heavily guarded palace be converted into an ironclad prison, casting the great sage into dark confinement as the bonds of royal affection were severed.