How oblivious Dorian was to the very depths of knowledge Alexander truly possessed upon him. The Monarch so unaware of those long nights the Hunter before him had spent with Matteo over the years- first celebrating Dorian's own birth and each milestone reached from first word to first step, before eventually hearing of the Frenchman's disdain over remaining incapable of being the Father he desired to be and too- how he surely wished nothing but death on Ferdinand for the way he treated the young Dorian with disdain. The Fae King so having been kept from all such tumultuous matters over his conception and birth. Dorian, for his part, merely believing Alexander to be an abrupt, abrasive sort of person by nature, else one who was, rightly, put out by unexpected guests. He was distinctly unused to the manner in which the Hunter so addressed him all the same and yet, diplomatic as always and so fearing that he might somehow vex Matteo's friend, Dorian so attempted to remain the epitome of polite. The man inquiring as to just where the older Fae had gone so suddenly only to be rather bluntly assured Matteo would be at least a half hour and not to worry himself any further. The Monarch unable to help that very slight frown that touched his features at those words.

"Very well."

He managed at last. Dorian, quite content to simply shake off the Hunter's bluntness all the same, the man nothing if not almost eternally good-natured even when faced with disagreeable people. The Monarch not yet even assured Alexander was as such, rather, the Hunter seemed distinctly guarded in a way that remained him far too much of Matteo himself. Perhaps this was why they were such good friends. That sudden inquiry as to whether or not his consort would be joining them was met with a shake off his own head. Matteo having insisted on his presence alone tonight. Dorian inclined to believe such a thing may well have been wise if the man before him held dislike over Sebastian's species. Not that he believed anyone could truly dislike Sebastian in any capacity once given the chance. He was oblivious once more to those internal considerations of the man before him as his own fingers toyed with that ring at his finger absentmindedly, his own lover considered then before his hand was offered to the Hunter in that modern gesture he was still sure he had no understanding off. That rather long pause before Alexander clasped his calloused hand in his own momentarily causing Dorian to question whether he had somehow performed it wrong! That roll of the Hunter's eyes and too those almost offhandedly offered words perhaps more curious then Alexander had intended them to be. Such notion as Matteo speaking off his birth for near two years only further convincing Dorian off his assumptions on whom the man truly was to him even if he was yet to confront him directly about it.

That inquiry as to a beverage was met with a ready nod, Dorian asking after that drink he had become fond off, pleased that Alexander seemed to know how to make it, that simper touching his lips now as he followed after the man a ways and towards that bar. His attention lingered readily on those machines. The Monarch eternally fascinated with them, his silver gaze following those quick, sharp motions of Alexander's hands as he crafted that drink. Dorian's attention drifting only to those oddities that adorned the room. Ah, but how he would love to explore them! To touch them, o ask about them! That want positively tugging at him and yet to pry would be the height of rudeness, much less to touch belongings not his own. King or otherwise he was hardly given to that sort of behaviour. A painting of those galloping horses capturing his gaze then and so reminding him of that childhood toy the very man before him had gifted to him as an infant, Dorian inclined to thank him for it after all these years. This mention of the Congo seeing his head tilt slightly before Alexander commented on the difficulty of finding hair within it. His eyes widening slightly.

"I should hope I never find out."

He could not truly envision a situation in which he might ever require hair in a jungle. Dorian hoping he never would and yet, perhaps, he so appreciated that gift all the more if only for the effort that had gone into it. That drink placed suddenly before him readily saw that grin return to his lips. Dorian easing himself onto that stool at the counter with a nod of thanks before reaching eagerly for it, the gloriously sweet cream dancing upon his tongue. The Hunter was talented, he was sure, in this crafting off coffees.

"This is very pleasant, thank you. I do not often get all the cream to myself. Sebastian like's to take it. He says he does not but I am assured that he does."

It was that very idea of his Consort and the man's love of sweets that prompted his question upon those pastries and cakes beneath that glass then. Dorian so attempting to ask in the politest way possible whether this man had always been a...servant of some kind. The man taking another sip off that drink as Alexander explained the cakes were made by another and that he was hardly a baker or barista at all. Dorian inclined to think he had dedicated an awful lot of time to being something he supposedly wasn't. What on earth Texas-Hold-'Em was he hardly knew, the Monarch making a note to ask Sebastian about it when he returned home and yet he was not terribly surprised to learn of these....games the two men seemed to indulge within. Such a cost for losing however seemed decidedly high! Four years off....this? His features perhaps giving way to his thoughts in that moment before that mention of Chambord saw his silver gaze return to Alexander's own.

"He summer's there. He has told me this before. Do you charge him rent? You should."

That almost impish simper danced upon his lips now. Dorian entirely amused at this idea of someone, finally, so getting the better of Matteo at something. For all he adored about the Frenchman, that manner in which he so seemed to be a step ahead of everyone was eternally baffling. The man very near seeming unconquerable- until now. Dorian considering those other games Matteo had mentioned before, his thoughts turning again within his mind then as he regarded Alexander with something of a new light. It had been rather a long time, after all, since he had met someone, outside of Sebastian, whom was akin to Alexander. Someone inclined to tell him the truth of things rather then what they so believed he wanted to hear. It so came with being King, after all, Dorian having become used to those beings whom surrounded him and their eternal devotion to constantly telling him of his own brilliance regardless as to whether it was true or not. Alexander seeming far more the type to engage in blunt truth rather than honeyed words. Dorian hardly a foolish man in any sense and- in a manner perhaps strikingly akin to his own Father- he had very near seized upon that sudden opportunity presented to him to ask of some of those things that played at his mind.

"Did Matteo ever say anything to you when he returned from visiting myself and Sebastian in Italy over New Years? He said he was going to visit with you. He seemed quite pleased when he left, he gave us a car after all and so told Sebastian he looked forward to us getting married one day, but he did not say anything to me specifically and I-"

Dorian paused, searching for those right words to describe just what he had desired to hear when he was not at all sure himself. It was easier, somehow, to admit these things to Alexander rather than Matteo himself. That query of great importance to Dorian all the same even if he half expected Alexander to tell him he need ask Matteo directly.

"I suppose what I mean to say is that I rather hope he was at least proud of the man I became since I left that Palace."

Dorian paused once more, taking a final sip of that drink before moving to dismiss those words as if he had not spoken them at all. Amusement upon his features again.

"Matteo never quite told me how you met one another. Perhaps you might tell me this story. I have always wondered off it. I know not how you have put up with him all these years."

Dorian Aragona