Somewhere within the dark embrace of those shadows, Tetradore might be capable of finding some kind of reprieve, even if it was for but himself alone. It was hardly the escape he might have wanted it to be - a momentary respite. That shadow realm would never be the salvation he sought, no matter how appealing it sounded. Those efforts to ensure him that their attempts to venture into the bleak blackness would hardly result in their death was met with little enthusiasm. His emerald eyes fluttered towards the elder fae as Matteo rolled his eyes and yet he regarded that tease with little more than a shrug of his shoulders. He turned his attention readily towards the chocolate tart upon his plate as he inquired just how they would find that shadow realm within the first place. He was more than content to savor that chocolate as Matteo peered into the future. The silence existed between them almost comfortably for several long moments before Matteo offered some notion of the importance of lines. Really, how lines were supposed to help at all, he hadn't the slightest idea. Frankly, it sounded more like something Tobias might take an interest in then either Matteo or himself. His insistence that Matteo's future sight was so incrediably helpful, however, seemed to provoke a huff from the fae's lips. "I guesss." Tetradore all but complained, clearly unwilling to admit that, perhaps, having some start was better than none at all.

Tetradore hardly anticipated Matteo's sudden declaration that the rest of the day, at least until dinner time, was his to be spent as he saw fit. It had, admittedly, been years since Tetradore had found himself free of responsibility or obligation, much less of some oppressive hold that mine confine him to a singular building. To spend hours as he saw fit, in any which way, was near unfathomable. Though he was quick to choose that solitary freedom over the heat of the kitchen, even Tetradore could not deny just how overwhelming those options were. He began to consider the choices before him as he nibbled upon his tart, only for Matteo to rise from the blanket after both the consumption of the tray of cookies and a hefty piece of that birthday 'cake' of sorts. His head bobbed as Matteo insisted his need to begin those dinner preparations, only to offer him both free range of his garage and the game room. Frankly, Tetradore was surprised such an ancient chateau had a game room, to begin with! It seemed more the sort of place one took tea in or some such nonsense - that distinctly modern technology eternally felt out of place in the whitewashed building. Even so, Tetradore regarded his companion with little more than one simple word, "Thanks." At the very least, he supposed he appreciated the Frenchman's hospitality.

Tetradore was hardly surprised by Matteo's abrupt disappearance. On the contrary, he was content to merely linger upon that checkered blanket for several moments longer before curiosity alone finally coaxed him up. After all, Matteo had quite purposefully, he suspected, suggested those very activities that might distinctly appeal to him. Not to mention, he was rather curious of the vehicles the Frenchman kept and how they might compare to his own ever-increasing collection. Finding that garage on those expansive estate grounds, however, turned out to be far more of a challenge than Tetradore had anticipated. There was only one side of the castle, after all, that didn't drop off into a bloody mote. Who even had motes anymore?! A soft huff left his lips as Tetradore finally flicked on the lights to what turned out to be a rather...expensive garage, the very size of which made even his eyebrows raise in clear appreciation. For some time he was content to merely walk among those vehicles - from the old Rolls-Royce to the classic Mercedes. It was, however, one vehicle in particular that finally caught the roving emerald eye of the Alpha, if only for it's distinct peculiarities. Even the manufacturer was unknown to Tetradore - as if that was not a rarity as it was. He eyed the vehicle for a moment longer before making his way into the chateau on a hunt for those keys - fully intending to not only take the car out but also to see just what that bizarre little vehicle was capable of.

He wandered back towards the house with a clear purpose, pausing only to glance in the kitchen at the fae busied with his own preparations. Finding Matteo's office, even despite those clear instructions he was given, was a bit more of a challenge then he'd like to have admitted. Counting thirteen of the exact same color door tended to get....very monotonous very fast. Thankfully, the boy was only one door off before he shifted through the contents of Matteo's desk to find the key he was searching for. The lion on the key fob was as distinctive as the appearance of it on the hood of the car. The Were-King returned to the garage with the key in hand, the unlock button caused the headlights to flash as he opened the car door - only to stare blankly at the interior. What...the fuck? It took him a moment longer before he tentatively climbed into the driver's seat, altogether even further baffled by the vehicle and its distinctive design. Hopefully, at least, it would be enjoyable to drive. It was that singular inquisitiveness of the vehicle that prompted Tetradore to coax the vehicle out of the garage and onto the driveway and the countryside beyond.

It was sometime later before the Were-King guided the sports car back through the gilded gates of Chambord, leaving the vehicle exactly where he had found it, albeit with significantly less gasoline than it had before. Regardless, he made every point to return just as darkness set over the French countryside. Tetradore strode back into that kitchen just in time, it seemed, as a bowl of his favored meal as a child was thrust into his hands. A rarely seen and yet entirely warm grin crossed his features at the sight of the entirely homemade cheese dish. In that singular moment, Tetradore found himself wishing, quite before he could help it, that this had been the entirety of his life. It was hardly a consideration he allowed himself to linger upon long, however, shoving the consideration deep down inside of him before that dejection could grip him with such a vice-like talon. Tetradore followed the fae towards the living room, all but collapsing into the armchair with the bowl on his lap without requiring any further coaxing. It was, however, Matteo's inquiry that caused Tetradore to pause before he began to consume that macaroni. "I took your Peugeot out....what the fuck kind of car is that Matteo? I mean, Jesus, does your country not have fucking chairs? Who builds a car without bloody seats in it?!" He paused, placing that bowl down in his lap as the Were-King continued with far more passion than he rarely ever displayed. "I've also never seen a door open like that thing does. And the fabric inside?! Who puts felt in a car?! I hope they've never made another fucking car again. I mean, it's got oomph but...what the fuck were they even thinking?" There was a huff upon his lips, Tetradore clearly of great opinion as far as the vehicle's interior was concerned. The speed...well, that was another matter entirely.

Tetradore turned his attention towards the macaroni in his bowl, lifting his fork to his lips with a far greater interest in his dinner now that his feelings of that vehicle had been so exuberantly expressed. That dish was, admittedly, everything he had remembered it to be. With just the right amount of cheese and that breadcrumb topping he so greatly enjoyed. Tetradore was content to all but devour that meal in quite the same fashion even Matteo seemed to. His soon to be empty bowl was placed on the coffee table beside him. Tetradore was, admittedly, entirely caught off guard by the Frenchman's sudden declaration that there was something more to be spoken of tonight. The very hesitance within Matteo's voice to utter the heart of that matter near immediately drew Tetradore's own wariness to the surface. "Okay..." He uttered, his suspicion surely clear within his baritone voice as he watched Matteo reach up, a manila envelope simply appearing within his grip. The Were-King was distinctly attentive of his faux father at that moment, that rarely seen gesture of indecision so prompted that apprehension within Tetradore in turn, his own lips pressed together in a hard line as if preparing himself for....something. His vibrant emerald eyes met the enigmatic silver hue of the fae across from him, simply waiting and watching with an intense scrutiny as Matteo's lips parted.

Matteo's admittance that he thought of him as a son was hardly surprising in the slightest. After all, it was a role that Tetradore had, in his youth, easily cast the elder fae into. When his life had turned so abruptly dark that the child had scarcely been able to handle all that he had been thrust into, the Frenchman had been a light in the bleakness of his world. Even though Tetradore had, regrettably, voiced loudly and frequently that fact that Matteo was not his real father in those more difficult teenage years, their relationship had persisted all the same. Still, even he was not fully prepared for just where that conversation might go. Even he disliked those memories of near begging the fae to take him with him - to steal him away and vanish together from the dance club that held him hostage. As he age, those beeching moments came less and less, even if Tetradore had never truly found an acceptance in that future that danced so vividly in front of the fae's very eyes. The very mention of his desire to be whisked away prompted a certain level of discomfort in the Were-King, that glance of utter indifference so effortlessly slipping into place upon his features as his cheek leaned against his hand. A soft, but none the less audible, breath left his nose in the smallest of sighs and yet, he let Matteo continue all the same till the man's voice trailed off. "Just...forget about it, Matteo." Tetradore offered, brushing off the fae's emotions in an effort to see that conversation turn elsewhere. Anywhere else, frankly.

That talk of the past, of what they both had wished had transpired, of the life they wished he could have lived, rarely brought with it anything good, as far as Tetradore was concerned. It only prompted that disappointment within the Were, the anger and frustration and dejection, and resentment. They were emotions that were better left deeply buried. He watched as the envelope was held out to him and slowly he reached out to take it. That soft sigh upon Matteo's lips caused his emerald eyes to shift from the envelope. A small frown crossed his features as he watched the Frenchman, the fae's apology prompted his eyebrows to furrow ever so slightly and yet, Tetradore hesitated to open the thickly padded manila envelope in his hands. "It's not your job, you know..." He stated almost bluntly, his gaze flickering down all the same as his fingers reached to open the envelope. "...to give me anything, I mean." Sometimes, perhaps it was a blessing that Matteo lacked that very title of Father. He didn't have to fret over providing something for Tetradore in the way he clearly had, in the way he should have concerned himself with his own son, in the way Tetradore's own father should have done too.

He slowly pulled that stack of papers out of the envelope, only to stare blankly at the French emblem he was presented with and the equally as foreign words in front of him. Of course, it was in French. Why wouldn't it be in French?! He glanced up at the elder fae, clearly baffled by whatever he held within his hands. Although he had picked up a few words here and there from both Matteo and Risque herself, none of his knowledge of French was particularly good enough to read an entire official document, much less....a great many of them. Tetradore's gaze shifted quite abruptly at the translation of those documents in his hand, a singular word falling from his lips quite abruptly. "What?" The simper upon Matteo's lips was met with merely a bewildered look from the Were-King, his gaze falling back towards the papers in his lap. Adult...adoption forms? He didn't even know such a thing was possible. Why did Matteo want...to adopt him? After all, he was hardly a child any longer. Slowly he lifted the top page from the stack, glancing over the pages underneath, his own signature was easily found, not that Tetradore remembered signing any such paper in the first place.

He glanced up from the pile of papers in front of him as Matteo spoke of his parent's death and their lack of certification. It was, perhaps, no surprise that the government struggled to place the boy. After all, there were no hospital records, no school records, no immunization records. His paper trail was scant, thanks to Risque's tendency to simply avoid such bureaucracy in the first place. Frankly, he was almost surprised there was anything to find to begin with. It was, perhaps, no secret, the importance the boy placed on family, likely entirely due to the lack of his own. His discovery of his sister's existence had only intensified the value he placed upon family - even though that had turned out resoundingly awful in all regards. A soft sigh left Tetradore's lips and yet, it was Matteo's insistence that he sometimes forgot just how important he was to the fae in turn that stopped him from...entirely shutting down this foolhardy idea. It might be nice, perhaps, to have himself a real family. After all, though he strove to invoke such feelings within the pack, it was clear they themselves hardly considered themselves family.

Still, Matteo had his own life outside of those hours the pair spent together. The fae had his own son and then....there was still the issue of her. With that certificate within his hand, a paper trail had been created - something tangible that connected Matteo to himself and that brought with it a whole slew of new considerations. After all, the only way he had managed to keep Matteo within his life for so terribly long was to keep the fae a secret. How it would kill him to say yes to this if it only brought about their downfall in turn. Tobias was already as much at risk as it was. Those final words drew the Were-King's stoic features back towards the Ambassador and yet, in the wake of all that emotion an feeling professed upon the fae's lips, his emerald eyes hardly lingered long. This was...not what he had been expecting.

For a long moment, Tetradore was silent, simply considering all he had been told and all that sat in his lap. It was several long minutes later before the man stirred, sliding those pages back into the envelope he had gotten them from only to place it on the coffee table. "What if she tracks that down? What if she finds this and you and Dorian? Have you considered that? Have you looked into ever plausible future to guarantee both of your safety or was this just supposed to be some heartfelt sentiment? You know the danger this puts you both in, Matteo." Tetradore was decidedly blunt when the feeling struck him, the man simply unwilling to even let himself hope for any hint of that life that he had been denied for fear that it too would be ripped away from him in the same striking ease and efficiency that Risque destroyed absolutely everything within his life. The things she would do to them if she found them. And it would be all Tetradore's fault.

aiden tetradore