He did tend to stray, not unlike his younger brother. Sometimes, it almost seemed as if the two were in competition with themselves on who had produced the best seed of heroes and half-lings alike. He liked to think that it counted that he was devoted to her, though it was never fully. The timing of her return had left him in a bad state, and he had to turn over that anger that she'd finally escaped him even when they played this cat and mouse game for centuries. It kept him feeling like a young god.
Her threat pierced him, his blue eyes cutting back at her with that devilish smirk, that she could see even beyond that mask. Seeing that strength back in her gave him immense pride. He stood right behind her as their drinks were prepared, his hands on her waist. "I'll gladly be taken over by you, my Queen," he said in a prickly voice by her ear.