“Yeah?” Matthew snorted, rolling his eyes at Francis. “You must know all about that, old man. Shit, you’re the reason why that statement is true.” He had certainly changed since Francis had controlled Matthew’s lands, all those centuries ago before Arthur changed everything. Matthew was no longer a boy, he was no longer the shy little boy that hid behind Francis’ legs on his first trip to Europe, and he was no longer making any attempts to be what Francis and Arthur both wanted him to be. He narrowed his eyes at Francis, wondering why he’d come to Paris in the first place. It wasn’t that he disliked Francis, but Matthew didn’t know what to think of the man beyond warped memories of centuries past.
“What brings this on though? You don’t need to be giving me relationship advice, you know,” Matthew switched into French, out of habit more than anything. “I think I can take care of myself, Francis.”