It was entirely rare, in every sense, for the Fae King to be out within the daylight hours. The afternoon, however, was decidedly late, the sun buried beneath a wealth of cloud that had done little but unleash a torrent of rain atop the city. It was, Dorian was certain, the perfect sort of weather in which he might venture out of his estate. The vast majority of the public, after all, hardly chose to wander the streets within this sort of inclement downpour- affording the Monarch a rare sort of freedom. One that did not involve his wealth of bodyguards having to fight back the throngs of the citizens who tended to amass around him. The vast majority of them meant him no harm, indeed, they merely desired to get up close to the Royal-else have their photograph taken with him and yet- such crowds presented a danger all the same. They provided a wealth of opportunity,after all, for those few who might wish himself or any member of his household harm, to conceal themselves. Crowds made his bodyguards nervous, Dorian,in turn, so often restricted from doing those things he desired if only because they posed a threat to his and Sebastian's security. This afternoon however, the streets were sodden with rain. People hurried by with no desire to stop. Such weather, in turn, permitted the Monarch to dress within his trench coat- an immaculate dark, Burberry coat, in a traditional Chelsea London cut. A gift from his husband the last time they had been withinEngland and by far one of the Monarch's favored coats even if it was so often reserved for unpleasant weather. That coat, along with his Italian leather boots and dark glasses made the Monarch very near blend in with that poor weather- his appearance decidedly well concealed. At least enough to prevent any being from daring to brave the rain to see if it truly was the Italian King seated inconspicuously atop a wooden bench outside the rows of shops that littered the main street. The awning of a cafe provided him shelter from the rain as he watched with clear curiosity the occasional being who hurried by.

Dorian's silver gazed watched a flustered mother hurry with intrigue across the road. Her hand collapsed firmly over her child's own, the both of them squinting agianst the rain. It was their auras however, that so readily captured the Monarch's attention. Fleeting as they were before the pair scrambled into a taxi cab. Like two bursts of color agianst the gray of the afternoon. How unfortunate the pair had not lingered longer! Dorian glanced downward at the sketch book within his lap, his pencil moving swiftly to fill in those details he had captured, albeit fleetingly. This page, like the three that came before it, displayed his sketches of the afternoon.Snapshots of time. Strangers hurrying home. It was, perhaps, a poor way to truly study auras. After all, such unknowing subjects tended to hurry past and yet it was near impossible for him to attempt such a thing on a pleasant day when the crowds all but swarmed. "I think it looks quite good Your majesty.". Lucas, his head of security, dressed in plain clothing as Dorian had insisted- glanced downward from his seat beside the Monarch to gesture towards the sketch.

"Thank you Lucas- but I am only able to capture that initial color as people rush by.I am given no chance to study them truly. Perhaps we should head home early. Sebastian will be awake within the next two hours as it is."

Lucas' gaze turned out toward the streets once more, the security guard assuring the rest of his team remained in place- each of them attempting to pretend to shop or wait at the bus station or wander past while maintaining a constant eye upon the Monarch and any being whom passed him. "Give it a little longer, Your Majesty. We might not have such an opportunity as this to come out unhindered again for a few weeks." Dorian frowned softly. Lucas was right. Perhaps such a moment was best not wasted through his own impatience.

"I should like to walk up the street a little."

Lucas nodded, the security guard rising, a subtle hand signal given to the rest of that team as Dorian moved to rise from that bench and stroll along the rows of shops. His security team trailing behind or watching from the sidelines. Lucas, as always, strode beside him- stopping patiently each time the Fae paused to peer within a store window. How wonderfully vast this modern world was! How very much it had available! Dorian, as always, so readily delighting in those shop windows. The near ancient Fae found curiosity within the news stand and sandwich shop and dry cleaners. Such services! How fascinating. It was, however, the very window of a tattoo parlor that prompted the Monarch to pause near abruptly, his silver gaze widening. Those sketches and drawings were distinctly unique. Tattoos were nothing short of forbidden within the Monarchy- at least for a King and yet, Dorian so found himself distinctly captivated by those sketchings all the same.

"Lucas! Such art! I should like to go inside."
"Of course, Your Majesty. Allow us to assure the store's safety. Please wait here."

Dorian nodded softly. Lucas' hand lifted once more in another subtle gesture. Two rather large, heavy set men, strode hurriedly from their previous positions to step inside the store. The tattoo parlor empty this afternoon, save for a dark haired, violet eyed young woman who appeared distinctly...put out by the sudden intrusion. Those security guards however seemed wholly content to ignore the woman for several moments. Every room in that parlor checked for any concealed beings or obvious weapons before the pair stood either side of the door. The taller of the men abruptly speaking. "The location is secure! Make way for His Majesty, The King of Italy.". Lucas proceeded to step forward then, opening that parlor door for Dorian to step through. Both bodyguards and Lucas himself were content to wait at the door with every intention of preventing any other being from entering. Dorian, for his part, stepped easily into the warmth of that parlor, his sketchbook clutched to his chest as his silver gaze roved over those walls so adorned with sketches and drawings of every kind. How utterly splendid!

That rather stunned looking raven haired woman was all but ignored for several more moments. Dorian was so entirely captivated within those drawings- before the Monarch seemed to recall her presence, his silver gaze abruptly turning towards her.

"Did you draw all of these? They are terribly lovely. I am quite fond of those in particular."

The Monarch's hand extended. Dorian pointing towards several ornate flower designs, a warm simper finding his lips before that look of confusion upon the woman's features seemed to prompt a frown to his own.

"Ah, perhaps you might forgive my intrusion. I did not mean to disrupt you. My security is given to be abrupt at times. I am Dorian Ellington-Aragona, The King of Italy. I am on an outing this afternoon. Such poor weather allows me a chance to conduct my own art uninterrupted- though I have not truly succeeded much this afternoon. I saw the art within your windows and I desired a closer look. My guards were merely assuring the location was safe."

Dorian moved to open that sketchbook book within his own hands, the page he had been working upon moments ago turned to face the young woman then that sketch he deemed 'unsuccessful' a decidedly flawless depiction of the mother and daughter as they hurried for the cab,the rain falling heavily around them-that drawing done in pencil and yet, both mother and child were each surrounded by a unique glow all their own.Those colors similar and vetvaslty different- striking agianst the otherwise black and white sketch.

"I should be very interested to ask about your art, if you might have the time."

Dorian Aragona