“Politics is the soil in which the nettle of poisonous enmity, evil suspicions, shameless lies, slander, morbid ambitions, and disrespect for the individual grows rapidly and luxuriantly. Name anything bad in man and it is precisely in the soil of political struggle that it grows with particular liveliness and abundance.”
Maxim Gorky
“What about Roxane?” Alexander asked.
“Your prisoner bride?”
“Such disrespect is worthy of death!”
“There is no possible way that you could love her or that she could truly love you.”
“What gives you the insight to speak so assertively about matters you know nothing about?”
“Daughter of Oxyarthes, the man who surrendered the Iron Gates to you, makes for a very political marriage.”
“Continue,” said Alexander.
“At a feast celebrating your latest victory a number of young women were brought in for entertainment. You spotted one of them whose beauty far surpassed the others and you decided on the spot to marry her once you learned she was the daughter of Oxyarthes. You needed to cement a strong relationship with the local leaders. What better way to do this than through marriage? You didn’t share a common language and never even spoke to each other beforehand. She never was given a choice. So she is your prisoner bride.”
“You have a vague outline of the past. I suppose it is remarkable that you have as much ...
