The fact he was smiling and relaxing a little was compliment enough. Joseph's ego was not so fragile it needed constant stroking. The bit of progress he'd made with Rhys was certainly ego boosting.
"You do need to do it more," he agreed, taking a drink of his own glass. "I hate to break it to the Ventrue, but it's never as good in a glass, no matter the vintage. Blood dolls are infinitely better, even if they're more 'common'." Joseph shook his head at the idea.
As if one person's blood was better than another's for any reason. That sort of nonsense is why a man of mediocre talent such as he had been in life had everything handed to him while people with more talent and drive had to fight for every thing they had. Things were better now, but the whole 'superior bloodline' among humans nonsense was still a widely held delusion.