i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

Those blue-green eyes slowly turned towards his Godson at that admittance that his reign had long since been lost to the sands of time. His kingdom had long ago folded upon itself, his lineage had become split and fractured. Those children he'd fathered as a mortal man had all been assassinated because of the threat they had placed to the Macedonian throne whilst he had been forced to simply watch those generals tear apart all he had made. He had resented the council and his own maker for a near century after that and yet, that sentiment that the man was still very much a King regardless of whether or not his land remained his own his people acknowledged his presence was a notion he could hardly deny. Dorian was, in every way, entirely correct. A King was exactly what Alexander was, just as he remained the ambitious conqueror, the war strategist. A small ghost of a simper crossed the Macedonian man's features as he moved towards that plush chair he had previously occupied, his head bobbing ever so slightly. "I can't disagree." He stated simply, his cheek nestled against the palm of his hand as he leaned against the arm of that chair.

He listened attentively as Dorian made an effort to so place him in time, the man often failing to admit truly whom he was. Besides, it was more enjoyable to watch them attempt to discern his identity, much less that look of awe upon their faces upon the discovery of the truth. Though that obscure clue of his age was little more than just that, there were very few men of his name who were noteworthy in any fashion, much less fellow Monarchs. He watched that grin spread across the young fae's features as that guess fell from his lips, that smile only further increasing as Alexander admitted that he was right enough. He watched Dorian as his Godson made his way towards that chair opposite of him, the elder man listening all the while as the Italian spoke of his own studying of those battles he'd led and those strategies that he'd utilized to take over much of Asia. It was not surprising in the slightest, truly, that a future tactician might have learned of his army or the expansion of his Kingdom. After all, there were several modern day armies that still studied his efforts to take that entire continent under his rule. His influence upon the world was still present even to this very day, weather or not it was well known. Though his world had fallen to rubble, the man had succeeded in his desire to be unforgettable.

A small simper crossed his features at those words of praise from his fellow ruler, his head bowing ever so slightly, "Thank you." He stated, fully allowing Dorian to continue just how he had once hoped to lead the Italian army in his own set of military maneuvers. "It is a shame Ferdinand wasted your talent." He spoke with his own hint of remiss. "He was a poor King and a worse father but...now you hold the entire Italian military at your command. Even with his efforts to thwart you, it seems you've still won in the end, hm?" There was a hint of amusement to his words and yet, truly, Alexander was entirely pleased to see how far Dorian had come in spite of all that had stood in his way. In spite of his predecessor, in spite of being condemned to that palace for near six hundred years, the fae still sat on that throne that Ferdinand had done all he could to keep Dorian away from. He always did despised that doubt other places in him, it was perhaps no surprise he too much dislike that same doubt Ferdinand had placed within Dorian. Even so, he was willing to let his own thoughts on the former King drop in place of that talk of Aristotle, a man he had always revered and, to some extent, held a certain sort of fondness for.

That mention of Leonardo was hardly new news to him, after all, Dorian's father had often spoken of the boy in those major life events. Dorian meeting the now famous painter and the prospect that maybe the man might be the one for him had been "major" enough to have reached Alexander's ears. "I think your Leonardo would have quite liked Aristotle. They were both men from a time not yet ready for them." Those ideas, the philosophies of Aristotle and the inventions of Leonardo were utterly astounding in every sense of the word. They both saw what the world around them had not yet comed to grips with. Their thumbprint upon the world had been perhaps as everlasting as Alexander's own. That notion of the pyramids, however, and Dorian's own excitement for the sheer idea of them prompted a small simper upon the Macedonian King's lips. "Perhaps, while you are at it, you should see the rest of the Wonders of the World." He suggested. After all, Dorian had remained in one place in one point in time for far longer than any being should. Maybe this vampire of his would be good for him if he could take him out to see the world. He was, at least, willing to reserve his own judgment for the interim.

It was that entirely subtle sound of the creek of those bed springs that drew the Hunter's blue-green eyes towards that bed, the materialization of that French fae hardly astonishing in any fashion. He watched as Matteo moved from that bed only to fetch that very drink Alexander had almost entirely discarded and yet, that idle comment saw a hint of suspicion cross the King's features and yet, it was entirely fleeting before he simply shrugged. "It was a new mixture I was trying out." He responded quite simply, always being perfectly vague to ensure Matteo could never order it again. It was petty, certainly, and yet harassing his age old friend in such a manner was one of the few sort of pleasures he still drew from this world. His attention drifted from the Frenchman to his son and back again, watching the way in which Matteo too seemed to regard this story of Paris as little more than a happenstance. What he didn't expect, however, was that leather bridle that was presented to him but moments later. "And here I thought you forgot." The Hunter commented in an entirely deadpan sort of fashion and yet, there was an almost sparkling hint to those blue hued eyes as he fully turned his attention to the gift he now held in his hands.

His fingers moved slowly over the leather strips that had been so neatly fashioned together, his eyes appraising that work in an entirely studious fashion. "The Bedouin's do always seem to know what they're doing...I'm surprised they made one too large...." His gaze turned almost suspiciously towards the Frenchman, as if he failed to believe it was simply too large for their Arabians and not that it had been made particularly for that Draft he'd taken to attempting to turn to a semi-decent steed of late. Still, Alexander was not one to turn away a gift in any sense of the word, even if it was so flippantly given. "Thank you, Matteo. It's far better then my elephant deserves. And thank you for bringing Dorian." After all, he could very near feel the end of that evening with his oldest friend's son and yet...there was a certain sort of curious emotion fluttering within his breast at finally being given the opportunity to meet the boy.