“Don’t play the game if you’re going to get your feelings hurt,” said Reeve. “I will always win. I have centuries of a perfected quick wit.” “More like you’re a perfected prick,” muttered Maeve. “I have that too,” said Reeve with a wink. “Set yourself up for that one, cousin,” said Abraxas. Reeve smiled at him cunningly. Abraxas blushed. “Fine,” she said. “I yield.”
