He looks pained. “I wish you wouldn’t.” “How can I not talk about the Mage when I’m talking to the Mage’s Heir?” “Is that how you think of me?” “Isn’t that how you think of yourself? Oh, right. I forgot—you don’t think at all.” Simon groans and rakes at his hair. “Jesus Christ. Do you ever not go for the lowest blow? Like, do you ever think, ‘Maybe I shouldn’t say the most cruel thing just now?’ ” “I’m trying to be efficient.” He leans against the shelf where I’ve set the whiteboard. “It’s vicious.”
