When news reached the wise sister of Bahram Chubin that her brother had returned from the battlefront with Khosrow, her soul was pierced with sorrow. Recognizing the fateful abyss into which his ambition was driving him, she cast aside her noble headband, wrapped herself in a modest servant's veil, and hastened to his presence with a heartbroken spirit. 'O mighty warrior,' she cried, 'how could you raise your blade against Khosrow Parviz? Even if the young king acts with the rash arrogance of youth, it does not become a seasoned commander like you to sever the path of reconciliation!'
Bahram Chubin angrily retorted that Khosrow was unfit to rule—devoid of battlefield valor, royal generosity, or true wisdom. He proclaimed that personal skill and inner virtue mattered more than imperial bloodline. Yet his sister confronted him with unyielding truth, invoking the ancient proverb of Balkh that true words are ever bitter to hear. 'Do not play the fool who sought the horns of a bull and lost his own ears and snout!' she warned him. 'None of our ancestors ever wore the royal crown of Iran. Remember the bounties of King Hormoz, who raised you to glory, bestowed upon you the plunder and crown of Saveh Shah, and made your name radiant across the earth. To turn against his line now is to invite the wrath of God and surrender your soul to the Div.'
She reminded him of the eternal order of the realm, stressing that the throne belonged solely to the lineage of Ardashir the Sasanian. 'If gold and legions alone granted the right to rule, then Saveh Shah of China would be king of Iran today! God raised you up to defend Iran, not to usurp its throne. Reflect upon Sam, the son of Nariman—the greatest warrior the world had ever known. When King Nowzar fell and the grandees of Iran begged Sam to place the turquoise crown upon his own head, he refused, declaring that the dust of Manuchehr's line was his only rightful seat, and he would never usurp the throne of his sovereign.'
Bahram listened to his sister's profound wisdom and bowed his head, acknowledging before God that every word she spoke was the absolute truth. Yet, with a heart heavy with grief and a mind consumed by destiny, he replied: 'Sister, your counsel is righteous, but my fate has already crossed the point of no return. My mind is shattered by torment. Whether I achieve supreme power or lay my head down in death—for death pierces even helmets of tempered steel—I must walk this dark path to its ultimate end.'