“He realizes he doesn't want to play this game, once so familiar to him. He has no interest in trading barbs. He has no interest, even, in protecting himself.
He interrupts her halfway through some scathing little comment about her time in the palace. "Just tell me what you wish of me. Jewels? Gowns? A comfortable manor? This is dull. What possible value is there in a contest over which of us has a heart most like a withered little pit?”