Noor felt like a newly captured animal displayed in a cage for the public to gawk at.
Ghimdar circled him, examining him inch by inch. "He seems tame enough," he remarked. "But he is not Frankish, and that suffices for us. If Father trusts him, then so do we."
Noor pursed his lips in annoyance, prompting the Prince to slap him heartily on the back again, knocking him to the ground while laughing boisterously. "Do not be so vexed! Your appearance is simply peculiar to us, boy."
Blood boiled in Noor's veins. He scrambled up from the ground, intent on striking the Prince, but the ruler's sons seized him, calming him down.
"Your hand is heavy, old man!" Noor shouted.
Ghimdar held him firmly, preventing him from lunging at the Prince. "Do you wish to raise your hand against the Prince of Ghlizan? Do you not fear punishment, you reckless fool?"
The Prince laughed. "I see you fear no one, boy. You aspire to take down the Commander of the Third Galactic Army of the Franks, after all."
