"I know. I am sorry that I insulted him." He didn't mean to insult the boy, but to hurt Greg instead. "He is a good boy and I wish him well." He pulled his head back, looking at Greg. "I just don't like how well he fits in here. How you have taken to him." He was unknowingly stroking the other's hair still. "It does not feel like we are still friends, Greg. Just like I am another slave in your home. Like the girls from the kitchens. You smile at them, but you never talk to them."