The Sun Also Rises

It was a foolish thing, perhaps, to so quickly find favour with a person simply because of their manner and yet first impressions, for centuries, had been the very epitome of so many social interactions that Dorian had found it near impossible not to indulge the weight of his judgement on those singular moments. Anastasia was the very sort of being whom, within his own time, would surely have shone as a beacon of the demure femininity that had been so highly prized amongst the arsitoricy that had so permeated his own upbringing. There was a distinct class about the woman, a sense of good breeding and yet too- a decided strength of personality that made itself known with the simple confidence in which she moved. Dorian so finding the woman instantly intriguing and indeed, silly though it might have been, he found himself almost comfortable with her if only because she so reminded him of a world that simply did not exist and yet one in which he had spent the better part of his five centuries of life. It was easy to take her hand, his lips brushing that soft skin upon the back of it in that forgotten and age-old greeting of one dignitary to another. The young woman reciprocating that very gesture with a curtsy off her own as Dorian's own head dipped softly and her hand was released to allow her to take her seat. The Monarch remaining standing until she had seated herself. Those very actions and gestures and mannerisms more akin to muscle memory and so performed without any true thought on his part. The modern world, it seemed, unable to pry those ancient manners from him even after more than a year within its embrace.

The silver hue of his gaze shifted from Matteo then to glance between his Godfather and the young woman as they exchanged their own pleasantries and she spoke of those places she had been. Anastasia he was sure, must take strongly for her Mother. Little of Alexander seeming to represent himself in her features- save for perhaps her eyes and that similar hue they shared. Dorian moving to offer that very suggestion only to have Matteo afford him a near amused look and the assertion that she was hardly his daughter of blood, but rather, one of immortality. How those further questions might toy with his mind! Dorian positively assured he desired to know a terribly great deal about the manner of Hunters and yet to pry here and now would surely be perceived as impolite at the very best. Perhaps, later, he might inquire of Matteo those queries that plagued him now. His attention inclined towards Anastasia once more, the woman herself hardly seeming perturbed by his own misjudgement. Her accented words, instead, speaking off her true parents. Dorian allowing that soft simper to find his lips then. The woman speaking as most beings there age where content to speak- with some measure of nostalgia.

"They are lovely all the same."

He offered simply. The Fae King quite assured it was true. Her eyes became her, as did all her features. The woman a decidedly attractive one. It is her very manner perhaps, that inclines Dorian to reach within the depths of his jacket in that moment to present those two cards for her inspection. After all, how often was he afforded the chance to have the opinion of a woman? Elizabeth was largely present in his home and yet the housekeeper was often inclined to agree with near any choice himself or Sebastian made. The Monarch decidedly assured that the Lady Anastasia would not be so easily swayed from her own opinion. Dorian offering those two colour choices then before turning them towards Matteo and Alexander in turn to view. His Father's comment on the whiteness of both cards forcing a near exasperated sigh from his lips. The French Fae making little attempt to hide his amusement in the affair as he plucked that ivory one from him to show Alexander.

"That is the ivory one."

He offered his Godfather that answer then. Alexander making some effort to assure Matteo that it was more akin to the white of an elephant tusk then a true white. The Frenchman seeming decidedly unimpressed all the same before those cards were both handed to Anastasia. Dorian's gaze resting upon her then at her assurance the ivory was far more classic and that the pearl, while lovely was, in her opinion, more suited to those debutante occasions. The woman pausing only momentarily to seek that correct word from Alexander in her native tongue before offering it to him in turn. His features frowning slightly in some further consideration before his head simply nodded. That faint touch of amusement finding his lips then.

"It shall be the ivory then, thank you. I should not like to be confused with a debutante. I fear such days have long since passed. It is unfortunate though, such events were splendid- once."

The world, he was sure, no longer held those debutante balls as they once had. His gaze lifting once more to meet Anastasia's own and afford her that ready smile of thanks before the woman's query to Matteo himself drew his own attention. That warm simper seemed to find the Frenchman's lips in turn, a soft chuckle rising within the back of his throat at the womans rare tease as if it were some jest shared between them alone like the oldest of friends. Dorian inclined to consider that this was surely exactly what they were. Friends whose affection for one another was akin to family. Matteo's affection for his niece so strikingly clear even in the manner he looked at her. How pleasant this notion of family could be. Ah, I fear it is so, my darling. You know how the world calls to me. I think it would fall apart without me to keep it aligned. That tease was so easily laced within those accented words all the same. Matteo near assured Dorian had been prompted to roll his eyes in that moment and yet he hardly queried it further. His attention remaining largely upon his niece then.

I will be here until the middle of February though, moving in and out as I do. I plan to spend some time in Saint Petersburg over the New Year, before returning here for a few days and then on to Naples for the wedding. If you should find yourself restless though I would welcome your company through Russia. Our last trip was a thrilling affair, after all. That simper tugged easily at his lips once more. Matteo inclined to remember that last trip he had taken with the woman with a terrible fondness. Few knew Russia so well as she. Anastasia inclined to find a new animation and passion each and every time she set foot within her own country. Alexander so having threatened to hang him were anything to happen to the woman and yet Matteo had staunchly refused to provide Alexander with any details of their last trip- if only because it so terribly annoyed the Hunter not to know what they had done- the Frenchman quite content to pretend as if he had led the woman into all sorts of trouble they had so barely escaped from when the truth was far more tame. The pair having spent a great deal of time simply walking walking those streets and monuments while Anastasia spoke all those words she might desire to speak and Matteo might be inclined to listen too. Dorian's voice so drawing his own gaze then as the Monarch spoke to Anastasia. That look of intrigue upon his features clear.

"I am terribly sorry but I must inquire, are you Russian?"

How easy it was, at times, to forget of the world Dorian did not know. Matteo remaining silent in that moment to allow Anastasia to answer that question however she saw fit to answer it. His own arms folding across his chest as he lent backward within that comfortable chair. The Frenchman inclined to find himself oddly...content this evening. It had been some time since his family had been gathered in this fashion. A satisfaction of sorts resting within him. How old he was becoming to so take pleasure in that. His attention shifted briefly to Alexander then as Anastasia and Dorian found themselves otherwise occupied. His voice loud enough for his oldest companion alone. When did you intend to tell me of your plans, hmm? You have a very busy year ahead of you, my friend. And here I thought your days of war and the Council were over. Still- I think it is good for you. You have been out of practice to long- we both have. I should have known it would be about horses. It is always about horses with you. One eye raised just so, as if near daring the Hunter to deny what he already knew of that future and Alexander's decisions of late so involving those Werehorses and all that would come with it. He was destined, it would seem, to follow the Macedonian man into yet another war of sorts. Even if its outcomes remained blurred even to himself. I suppose I see your point in this one though. It took you nearly two thousand years to find a steed better than your Bucephalus. I think that is worth fighting to keep lest you be forced to wait another thousand for the next one. Besides, the Council could use the shake up. Those final words were added as a near afterthought, Matteo assured Alexander would know entirely what he spoke off, even if some off his own decisions on that remained undecided in turn.

What exactly Matteo and Alexander had so seen content to murmuer softly about in that moment Dorian hardly knew. The pair prone to those hushed talks. His own attention far more taken with the young woman before him and that curiosity he found in her heritage, so to speak. Russia one country he himself had never been too and yet one found a great curiosity in (as he found a curiosity in many things). The Monarch still distinctly behind the world when it came to history. The truth of the woman before him largely unknown.

"I fear I have never been to Russia myself but Sebastian is, slowly, showing me the world I have missed. Do you live there? Have you a husband or family there?"

Dorian Aragona