And thus Solas picks up on the fundamental truth of Jonathan Strange: he is a goddamn mess. At the moment though, he's a goddamn mess who's trying his hardest not to seem like a goddamn mess. So that smug superiority is still there as Strange finishes off the roasted nug in his hands.

"What, summoning a demon? One of your precious spirits? I could handle it. After all, you're still bound." Solas might berate and attack and disparage Strange all he wants but at the end of the day, Strange is still the one who's holding the metaphorical leash...for however long it would last.