Women were, admittedly, still a largely difficult topic for the man. It hardly engaged in those one-night stands nearly as easily as the Frenchman beside him did. The man's more womanizing habits were something of a mystery for the Mexican man. It wasn't so much that he was incapable of doing so, though truthfully he had never really tried in the first place. Rather, Risque had quite near ruined his interest in those more intimate activities for the majority of his adult life. Any attempt he had made within the walls of that dance club to spark an interest in any other woman was quickly squelched by one fashion or another, few ever ended in a fashion that was all the pretty. The vampiress had always been so particularly steadfast in her decision to ensure that she was the only being he might find any hint of pleasure from, and yet it too came hand in hand with its fair share of torment. Samantha had, perhaps, been the first individual he had attempted any sort of real intimacy from...and yet even that had been forced upon him in some fashion or another. Even so, he could hardly deny the idea of a swimsuit wearing model did not sound....appeasing, even if it was just to look at.

Frankly, it was hardly the woman herself that coaxed such amusement from the were-King so much as the scandal that had fallen in the wake of what was clearly supposed to be a candid photo between lovers. Tetradore suspected even she was not fully aware of exactly whom she had within her bed, or exactly how much money she could obtain for acquiring a picture of the French Ambassador in such a decidedly provocative position. Teasing Matteo of it was perhaps the most joy he brought from that tale, even if Tetradore was hardly perturbed by the near good-nature Matteo seemed to regard that 'mistake'. After all, a decent photo of his ass was certainly not the worst thing the world had ever seen. The conversation shifted but moments later and yet, Tetradore was altogether content to merely ignore that inquiry on his own welfare and what he had been involved with. It wasn't so much that he intended to dance around that topic in the same fashion he had quite near mastered with others, oh no, it was simply that he viewed Matteo's troubles with his son to be of vastly more value than those woes Tetradore so had so recently accepted.

He listened with potent intensity to every syllable Matteo spoke of his son and that altogether strained relationship, though why the two men were so stiff with one another remained nothing short of a mystery for the far more mortal man. Perhaps when one had forever to waste, such silly notions as a past long gone could get in the way of father and son. It was not as if he had an eternity or a father to really know either which way. Then again, considering his relationship with his sister, perhaps he didn't have any room to talk at all. Still, Tetradore was well aware that Matteo loved his son. He could see it in the way the Frenchman talked about the Monarch. It had been a point of envy for him in his youth, and yet one that still prompted him to inquire after the boy time and time again, as if he could live vicariously through him. It bothered him, in some way, that Matteo was unwilling to move past his own fears to foster that which both he and his son surely would want. Dorian did want that rapport with his father, did he not? Once those thoughts of the past had been dealt with?

Tetradore could hardly help that fashion in which those words fell so bluntly from his lips. It was hardly like the man to offer advice - not truly. More often then not he had simply achieved enough of a distance from the populace at large that he was hardly concerned for their affairs and how they might so perturb any one singular individual. It was the matters of his pack that he most often put his efforts towards and yet, even they rarely received any sage words from the man. Even they had not fully broken through those mile high and equally thick walls that so surrounded the man's often stoic heart. It was, however, perhaps the rarity of that very guidance that prompted the man to list off those benefits he could so flawlessly see, as if his own judgments required some sort of validation. He was almost unaware, truly, of how that more dominant nature so shone through within that moment where he previously might have simply brushed off the concerns with some encouraging word to try harder. Still, his emerald eyes were hardly oblivious to the fashion at which Matteo's fingers so toyed with the links of that chained necklace around his neck, that simple action caused that momentary assuredness to falter, his lips pressed together ever so slightly.

The were-King's gaze followed Matteo as the man reached forward for that French sweet that he had abandoned upon that coffee table and yet, that admittance that he was hardly wrong brought a sense of...relief. Still, he fell back into that silence he so comfortably found, that momentarily glimpse of those leadership skills were gone perhaps as quickly as it had come. He offered his companion a small shrug in response, the man had distinctly little advice to offer on that topic of that woman he had once loved, nor his son's near infatuation with his soon to be husband. After all, Tetradore hardly knew the grip of love, nor was he on talking terms with any individual who truly might remember his own mother. It was perhaps that, and the assuredness that Matteo had seemingly spoken of that which he truly desired that prompted him to inquire after that proposition of sort that the fae had offered him before he had so insisted upon that tale. That weariness was clear within the man's frame all the same.

Tetradore hardly expected that offer to see that home he had once so foolishly hoped to escape to. In his younger years, it had baffled him before on why he could not simply go home with Matteo in the same fashion Matteo seemed to come time and time again. In those weaker moments, he could still distinctly remember crying over that very thing, before he realized quite what a pipe dream it was to be free of her. Even now, he was still realizing that very thing over again. His emerald eyes turned from his companion as he considered that very option afforded to him. Truthfully, that passport and plane Matteo began to speak of was hardly a concern for the man, not given what he was now capable of doing, he could certainly pop back in the Ark on the occasional evening to tend to those pack affairs, much less those full moons in which Henry quite near required of him, and yet....it was Risque alone that saw him hesitate. His gaze turned briefly back towards Matteo at that assurance that the vampire would be otherwise engaged for several months - though, he found himself quite near doubting such a thing.

His fingers on his free hand moved quite near subconsciously to his neck, rubbing against that skin she was near content to bite into each time he stepped within Syn, as if to remind him that he was owned. If she knew he was missing, there was no doubt that she would retaliate....still...a week was...do-able, wasn't it? "I hope you're not using me as an excuse not to face your fears with Dorian." He commented in a near gruff fashion. After all, Matteo had requested him for months after that wedding and frankly, he doubted Dorian and Sebastian would honeymoon for that long. It was hardly a yes, nor was it quite a no either and yet, something about...all of it saw the man quickly retreat back to that near indifferent demeanor he had mastered so many years ago. It was that mention of that promise that caused his gaze to drift from the elder fae and yet, he offered his companion little more than a soft grunt in response.