His hands swung back to clasp behind his back, and he walked with his head turned just enough so he could watch his new companion. France decided it was worth a little ache that would last a while. He'd lived with worse for longer, and if he could nail down without a doubt why his old self was peeking in again, he felt he might be able to rest a little easier again. Perhaps.

If he could breathe. "I am an excellent judge of the arts - I know a talent when I witness it." No hint of doubt touched his voice. That was simply how he'd become. More like his older self's half brother than what he'd been.