[ Francis's lips are pursed petulantly, watching Charles's hand with suspicion, but actually ends up glaring more when it turns from him. ] You've always had so much confidence in your abilities. [ He turns away a little, idly poking at the sore spot which likely isn't helping his mood. ]

I don't know. We'd need to consent, and... [ The frown he ends up with a bit more distant, like he's troubled with himself. ] Well, hopefully you haven't hit that out of me.