Rilian is taller than he. It's been so long he'd almost forgotten that, how his son had inherited the height and beauty of his mother the Star. Still, Caspian looks up at him with dismissiveness bordering on contempt. "Should I fear you, good sir knight, who hides behind a woman's skirts and fears his own freedom?"

The Knight's face pales to the lips, and his eyes grow cold. With a cool, slithering sound, he draws his blade, the metal gleaming under the friendly lights of the Bar. A waitrat that had been coming near to take their order squeaks and scurries away.

"Rescind your words, boy, or draw your sword and face me."