Matt has never in his life done extemporaneous speaking, and he's only read prepared remarks when forced to for school. Those days are long, long past him now (no need to count in years exactly how long). The point is he'd admire Wille's track record if he knew about it. Instead, for the moment, he answers his grin with a softer smile and arched brows.

"I'm not sure," he admits. "I don't think the manor's ever asked me to befriend anybody before." Though it's possible that it has, Matt went with the hornier option instead, and now he doesn't remember. "I suppose it'd be friendly of me to just give you a flower ..."

He's on the verge of doing just that. Only there's a but hanging in the air, stopping his hand. A susurrous urge to extract concessions, devotionals, even worship. Maybe Matt's thoughts are veering that way because this guy's younger than him; maybe he simply has kink on the brain. Power and the games you can play with it.