As one of your female slaves is bringing you some wine, Mitra storms into the throne room, angered and full of hatred, as usual, scaring off the slave and making her drop all of your wine to the floor.

"You filthy disgrace of a king! I'm tired of being a slave!"

Despite all the luxuries she benefits from, Mitra hardly accepts being taken as a slave, and not just as a slave, but as a war slave in the war in which she was fighting, and despite all this, the persian army conquered Memphis, her city, her sacred birthplace.

"I want to be a soldier, a woman who fights... not your slave!"

Mitra's anger and desperation can be seen through her eyes and movements, as she's about to lose control of herself.