Warm the Heart
Chapter 10
I'm very sorry for the long wait, and the short chapter. I finally know where I want to take this story again, and will update sooner this time! Thank you for staying with me, and excuse the crappy chapter.
Three years go by.
Victoria and Matthew never receive a visit, letter, or even a phone call. In three years, it's as if their time with Francis had never been. At least, Arthur did his best to make it seem that way. He carefully weeded out their use of French, snapping at them every time they answered him with an 'oui', or punishing them whenever Victoria would snap back with 'Sourcils'. However, whenever he wasn't around, they were determined to keep speaking French, speaking it in hushed quiet tones when they were alone in their rooms.
How much the Frenchman had missed. At fifteen, Matthew was already taller than Arthur, and was most likely taller than Francis as well. His voice had deepened, and his face was slowly maturing. He would probably be very popular at school with girls and boys alike if he didn't constantly have his nose in books, and if every time he tried to get in a word, Alfred wouldn't butt in and take over the conversation.
Victoria on the other hand, was a cheerful thirteen year old. Her hair had grown far down her back, and was nearly reaching her bottom. Arthur urged her to at least cut her hair a few inches to a decent length, but she would ignore him, striding off to her room, and fix her long hair in the red ribbons her papa had bought her so long ago.
She was also the rebellious one, while Matthew was quicker to listen to what Arthur said. Whenever Matthew would give into the Englishman's words, a disapproving frown never failed to find its way onto her face. Of course, her rebelliousness kept her in trouble. Arthur continually had to come up with new ways to punish her, telling her that he was simply trying to turn her into a proper English lady. But always she would reply quickly, reminding him in that French he hated so much, that she was not an English lady, but French.
When it came to Alfred, Victoria got along well with him. Matthew thought she got along too well with him. It unnerved him whenever Victoria would choose to take Alfred's hand as they walked back from school, or when she would spend too much time with him in his room. It didn't matter what they were doing, playing video games, eating ice-cream, or watching a movie, Matthew always made sure to stay close when he was around.
He trusted Victoria, but he didn't trust Alfred.
There was one day after a long day of school, Matthew caught Alfred kissing Victoria. It sent Matthew into a rage. He was never one to get angry, but when he did there was no holding him back.
Alfred made the excuse that it was just one little kiss, but it didn't matter to Matthew. He told Victoria to go back to her room, and had then punched Alfred in the face. A fight broke, and in the end Matthew was all to blame. Arthur scolded him, sending him to his room for the rest of the night without dinner.
He said he'd have no hooligans in his house, but Matthew thought that was hypocritical when Alfred had been in several fights, and had got no more than a slap on the wrist.
Back in his room, he grabbed a new sheet of paper, and one of his gel pens he kept on his desk, and started to write. It was his 38 letter to Francis since they had been taken away. He didn't care that he never received replies. Each letter he sent showed that he still remembered the times before they came to this dreary place.
Dear Papa,
Dear Papa,
Dear Francis,
Alfred kissed Victoria. I don't know why, but it upsets me. I feel like I'm being left out, and that she's slowly moving on without me. I know you won't reply to this, but I miss you. You would know what to tell me. I also punched Alfred, and we got into a fight. I apologized, but I still got into big trouble.
I stay up thinking about what you're doing at times.
Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever be a family again.
With Love,
Matthew Bonnefoy
Sincerely,
Matthew
"Arthur, how are the kids?"
"They're fine, frog. I'm at the office, what do you want? Why are you calling me?"
"I was just wondering if the kids received my letters."
"…..Yes, but I told you already, they don't want any contact with you."
"….."
"….."
"Right, well…tell them I called. Do you think they would take one of my calls?"
"I doubt that Francis."