"Do you quite know what I think?" Those perfectly accented lyrics easily parted the Frenchman's lips, Matteo's hand extending to take the coffee mug from his companion and subject it to the same wipe of the dishcloth that he had afforded the three that had come before it. The pair of men having managed a near faultless chain of washing and wiping in some effort to finish that work early and shoo out those few remaining patrons so they might have Alexander's café to themselves before the 'children' arrived. The entirely youthful looking Fae hardly afforded Alexander any real chance to answer before continuing, that dried coffee mug balanced precariously upon one finger in some mild effort to irritate the Hunter all the same as that almost impish grin found the Frenchman's lips. "I think you are lying to me, Alexandros. I think despite what you say that you meddled in those political elections- you know I will find out. You never could help yourself. Your meddling will come back to bite you one day, my friend." There was little save good humour in those words all the same, that soft chuckle rising from the Frenchman's lips as that coffee mug was snatched away from him to be placed back where it belonged among those rows of meticulous shelves. Alexander having been orderly since the day they had met some eighteen hundred or so years ago. Matteo long since having ceased to count. Age meant little to either of them any longer and it was little more than a waste of effort to abide it.

"Tell me that is the last of them, I have not washed a dish since my boyhood. I feel very domestic." That dishcloth was tossed back onto the counter, Matteo leaving his age-old companion to close up the rest of that shop as he himself collapsed into the nearest chair, one leg folding neatly over the other as the long fingers off his left hand idly caressed the rim of his own cup of tea from earlier. The man distinctly aware of Alexander as he moved about behind him before the Hunter at least settled himself into that seat beside him- the pair facing that large shop front that peered out onto the street. Matteo's silver gaze lingering briefly and with little true interest on those passing people hurrying to be home before the sun set completely. One young woman seeming to ensnare his interest a little more than the others, his head nodding briefly to her, the girl dressed in an outfit far to summery for that rapidly cooling weather."It will rain tonight and she will sincerely regret that outfit". The faintest hint of a simper seemed to find his lips, the ancient Fae lifting that teacup to his lips in turn. Those predictions of the weather perhaps one largely practical use for his extraordinary gift, the man momentarily considering he should have warned both Dorian and Anastasia to bring a coat or an umbrella. Oh well. Rain would hardly harm either of them.

"I look forward to seeing your Anastasia again, it has been some time since I saw her last." It was perhaps no secret that he adored the young Russian woman. Matteo far more inclined to spoil her in a fashion Alexander was not and much to the Hunter's chagrin he was sure. The Fae near religious in the fashion he sent her those birthday and Christmas gifts each year. The girl very near a niece of sort's to the man and one he looked forward to being in the company of once more. He need visit Aiden too- this weekend perhaps. Matteo storing such thoughts within his mind for now before gesturing to that door once more, his gaze regarding his oldest companion with a clear amusement unique to the Fae man alone. "I shall wager you that Eugene Delacroix painting that hangs in my German estate entryway, the one you adore, that Dorian arrives before Anastasia does. I have not looked into that future on this, I swear it". Their gambling habit was, perhaps, as infamous as the pair of men themselves. Matteo already knowing well that Alexander would hardly back down from that wager- neither of them ever did. Those games they played having provided them both some enjoyment in a world that had long since become a little dull to them both.

.........

That weather had shifted dramatically in the time it had taken Dorian to detangle himself from Sebastian long enough to find suitable attire for that meeting Matteo had invited him too. The Frenchman, as always, having remained decidedly vague on just who he was meeting. Rather, the man had simply invited him to arrive at Alexander's café just after dark. Dorian long since having given up attempting to query his Father any more on those matters. Matteo a decidedly obtuse individual when he chose to be. It was with that promise to Sebastian that he hardly intended to be too terribly long that Dorian strode from that mansion in the North, his coat wrapped tightly about himself to prevent that chill. Sebastian having added an extra coat if only because the vampire seemed assured Dorian would somehow succumb to the cold, the Fae King hardly having the heart to tell him otherwise. That warm grin finding his lips at the thought of his fiancés care for him all the same as he made his way to that café- hopefully it would not rain. Dorian hardly inclined to getting wet in any sense.

His hand had no sooner pushed against that glass door, that small bell ringing to omit the King into that heated café then Alexander promptly huffed, Matteo appearing decidedly pleased- his Father and Godfather hardly exchanging a word and yet the pair seemed to exchange several glances that merely saw Dorian glance between them in turn. The Monarch near inclined to apologise for some fear he had somehow arrived either terribly early or terribly late, the man glancing up at that clock on the wall before at last stepping within that room to let the door close behind him- his coat hung neatly on that rack.

"Good evening Matteo, Alexander. How are you both?"

That warm smile seemed to find his lips all the same, Dorian having steadily become more and more at ease with his father over those coming months, even if both men still remained a little...unsure of how to take one another. Dorian seating himself in one of those available chairs across from the pair then. Matteo inquiring then as to whether or not Sebastian intended to join them, Dorian's head shaking softly then.

"No, I have left him with the task of progressing with his guest list for our wedding. I have suggested he try to list at least five people. I already know he shall list at least ten, remove eight of them, add in another three, write someone down at least twice and then give up upon it altogether."

That grin seemed to find his lips all the same, Dorian chuckling softly at the idea of what he was assured might be awaiting him at home. The Monarch content to find it endearing all at once. His gaze lingering then upon that collection of oddities that surrounded that café. Dorian still as enchanted by them as he had always been before his attention returned to the pair of men before him with that quizzical look.

"Whom is it exactly who have brought me here to meet this evening?"

His Royal Majesty

Dorian Aragona

The King of Italy