“I’d like to point out that no one is prettier than you,” Astaroth said, running his hand in soothing strokes over her side, “though I acknowledge that’s not the point.” She laughed awkwardly. “You may need your eyes checked, but thank you.” He frowned. “I’ve noticed you don’t like compliments.” “I don’t get a lot of them.” She knew how to react to a challenge or insult—hit back—but she’d never quite known what to do with praise. “Then clearly I need to compliment you all the time.”
