"She drinks. I drink. That's the depth of a mortal friendship, isn't it?" He replies defensively, eyes snapping to eye her cautiously. He wasn't really sure how she would have -- ...ah. Amused. She apparently wasn't the jealous type.
"Rhaena does not seem the type to need to escape, dear, but perhaps. Maybe he just got bored of her in bed. Who knows? He is a mortal - they are not known for their loyalty," bitterness dripped from these words, eyes narrowing upon the trees ahead as they walk. "Agnieszka included."
"Ah, well. Regardless, he is inaccessible to us. He is, apparently, in some other world, on some other plane - and, somehow, was able to reach Rhaena long enough to tell her he was bedding other women."
He paused, hesitated in his steps, a grin dawning on him. "He -would- be perfect, wouldn't he?"
Her change of tone, the warmth of her body pressed to his, arms encircling him, brought him to a complete halt. Mumbling pleasantly and embracing her - as she desired - he leaned to press a fond kiss to the top of her head. "Mmm... you do know how I treasure your happiness..."
"But you drink too much wine, you -could- spare my pocketbook."
