She tried to find a smart remark to wipe his smirk off his face, but she knew one would not come, and The High Lord was too confident to be swayed by any blow. “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.”
