The feeling is… mutual. You grin at his response but the smile quickly turns into a grimace. There is only so much you can do at an event like this. Which is, in a word: nothing. You can hardly remember what prompted the conversation before the insults started flying. If the two of you keep this up, others are bound to notice.
So you click your tongue and sip your whiskey, stuffing your hand into your pocket.
Oh, you hate unfinished business. All that’s left is the hope that his frustration over having to back down is bigger than his satisfaction of getting away. Can’t let him off quite that easily though. You’ve been a King, sure, but not even you are above being absolutely petty.
You reach out and grab the glass out of his hand with the casualness of as if you’d just taken one off a waiter’s tray. And yes, you’re totally taking a sip as you turn away from him.