"Tell me, master…"
"I'm not your master," the old man drawled.
"How should I call you, then?" Noah entreated. He tried to be polite in many ways, but maintaining the conversation was difficult even with the numerous hours of diplomatic training. Especially when one side refused to participate.
"Why should I care? We are strangers, after all. There is no familiarity between us," the Sage kept on being stubborn.
The legendary daughter was difficult to approach. His hate for nobility couldn't be soothed in any way and the crown prince wasn't the masochist to look for the situations where he was being rejected again and again.
However, in a short amount of time, he has found out that sometimes it's better to suck up one's complaints and just pretend to have a thick skin.
