every king had a story, of ancient glory,sweetly told

It was Harley's very insistence in that brief moment of solidarity that DOrian had surely been bold by even setting foot in that tattoo shop that seemed to bring a simper to the Monarch's features once more. It was, he supposed, rather bold of him to venture in a store he had never been whilst engaging a perfect stranger in a conversation of the very soul. Sebastian, surely, would take great delight in hearing such a tale. Even if, Dorian suspected, his husband so often humored him when it came to those adventures Dorian thought impossibly grand whilst the rest of the world might deem medicare at best. Harley's assurance that she would be eager to hear such a conversation so managed to prompt another soft chuckle from the Monarch's lips as his fingers worked with meticulous care upon the page in front of him.

"I am very fortunate to be married to such a man as my husband. He listens with endless patience to my stories that, I suspect, he finds quite mundane in truth and yet- such is his good nature, that he summons an excitement to rival my own so that my grand adventures are not at all made to seem trivial."

How readily that warm grin so seemed to take over the Monarch's features at the talk of his husband. Sebastian, after all, was his most favored person in all the world. Dorian assured in turn that he might never tire of speaking of him if given the chance. That clear delight and simple happiness within his marriage was evidently clear upon the Fae's features as he continued to work for several more moments. Harley's conversation had been distinctly insightful in every fashion. In the very least it had provided clarity upon those very shades of color and intricate design that illuminated the woman's soul and aura with distinct uniqueness. After all, a soul was so uniquely a person's own-in every fashion. It was only once Dorian found himself satisfied with that base drawing that he allowed his affinity to blossom- that swell of magic so abruptly taking up the room as color quickly filled the white page before him. Each and every shade seemed to blossom and bloom, those colors blending and brightening with each passing moment until that image of Harley was surrounded by plethora of color in all various tones and shades. The Fae King was silent for several moments more, his silver gaze observing that drawing he had created before offering his analysis of it- of what those colors represented, of what they said of the soul of the woman before him. A bright, passionate, impatient and yet courageous woman. One with a strong will and a sharp tongue that concealed beneath it a hidden vulnerability and an uncertainty, perhaps, of her own place within the world and what he was deserving of.

It was only once the Monarch was assured of his assessment that his gaze rose once more to meet the striking violet of Harley's own. Dorian so taking that moment to insist that the gold that surrounded her aura, that wove itself with intricate delight through those other shades represented and unequivocal goodness. Harley was, at her core, a good person. A kind person- and how readily her aura showed it. Dorian, in turn, was wholly content to offer her that very assurance. His own words uttered with a gentle ease in turn. Each of her personality traits offered in a manner that spoke only of their usefulness and value to her very being. After all- it was those very traits that made her the very being she was. Dorian's own soft query on whether or not the young woman before him had any questions was met with another moment of silence. Harley, for her part, so seemingly considered that information she had already been given before querying whether or not any part of her soul was 'weird'. How readily that question seemed to prompt a frown to the Monarch's features, Dorian considering his own words for a moment before insisting that no soul was alike any other, by that notion there was no commonality between souls and in turn- no soul could be 'weird' by that very definition and yet,perhaps, her aura held within it an anomaly of sorts. His very mention, of such, seemed to captivate her attention nearly instantly as his finger drew the grayness that lingered within her aura.

Grey, after all, so represented many things and yet in Harley's case it was...obscure in its presentation. An indecision of sorts, as if she was undecided on whether or not she felt she deserved happiness. Such a thing was a wholly curious trait and a decided rarity. The very silence that followed his accented words prompted the Monarch to glance upward once more. Dorian so eyed his companion for several moments as she insisted such a thing was 'self-loathing'. Dorian merely inclined to shake his head.

"It is not self-loathing in any fashion. Rather, it's an indecision within yourself on whether you should allow yourself to embrace happiness. I do not know you very well, perhaps, but it seems to me you are very deserving of happiness."

That warm simper so found the monarch's lips once more as Harley considered those words further, the woman softly insisting some people were just dealt a...poor hand in life. Such words prompted a soft sound of amusement to the Monarch's lips.

"I am quite certain this is true and yet I think it is how we choose to play the hand we are given that ultimately decides the outcome, no? Matteo told me such a thing once. My...early life was a most difficult thing, I was often inclined to be quite angry at the world when I was young and yet it became clear, when I got older, that the world might offer me any manner of situations- but I alone controlled how I reacted to them. Happiness is a most easy thing to craft when one knows how."

That warm simper so hardly faltered from the Monarch;s features. Dorian so taking that moment to offer that drawing to the woman before him, should she desire to keep it for herself. Harley was quick to rise from her space, the young woman near hurrying across the room toward him only to eye that verydrawing with clear delight. Her ready praise so seeming to brighten the grin upon Dorian's own features once more. Only for Harley to insist he had made her look 'smoking hot'. How readily that color seemed to flush to his cheeks! Dorian so quickly insisted he had drawn her as she was, the woman's words near teasing. His secret was so evidently safe with her. Harley's very suggestion that it was, perhaps, the tea that had made him 'hot' was quick to prompt a nod from the Monarch. His features still very much flushed in a fashion near boyish.

"Yes. quite, the tea- it must be."

How surely he knew neither of them were inclined to believe it. Dorian so hardly realized just how very...womanly and feminine Harley's figure was. His drawing so readily captured her features in all their beauty. The woman quite undeniably....hot in every sense. Dorian was, perhaps, near thankful for Harley's further query on those colors- the Monarch taking time to explain those shades. That golden overlay so evidently took Harley by surprise. Gold so apparently not her color even if her soul disagreed. The woman instead sought to ask why he had not drawn his own aura- that very question prompting a look of surprise to his features once more before his head shook softly.

"I find my own aura decidedly hard to read, I cannot see it very clearly. I do not know if it is merely a manner of practice or because my own thoughts cloud my ability to see myself clearly in that regard."

His words, once more, were decidedly honest. The Fae King sighing softly in veritable regret at his lack of ability to view his own aura. At least, not as clearly as he so desired. It was, however, Harley's sudden concern for her soul becoming trapped within that very page that coaxed a soft chuckle to hum within the Monarch's throat once more. Dorian was content to insist that he was so hardly inclined to capture people's souls. At least, not in that fashion. The Fae King inclined to appear near impish in that moment. Such a look so very akin of Matteo in turn. That sudden use of the phrase 'D-Man' coaxed a lift of the Monarch's eyes once more.

"I am not familiar with this....term of, how you say, D-Man? Is that a reference to myself?"

Dorian's head tilted near quizzically to the side, the Fae King seeming to consider the phrase before his gaze met Harley's own once more, his head shaking softly.

"I cannot trap a soul, per say, I can, however.....ensnare people within my art- should I desire it. You need not fear however. That drawing of you is merely a drawing. It has no ability to capture you. I am rarely inclined to ever use such affinities,"

Harley reached out then to take that drawing, the woman insisting she would cherish it. Such a notion, one more, seeming to delight the Monarch as his head nodded. That drawing was neatly handed to her. His signature added with flourish at the bottom. It was within that near contented silence that followed that the Monarch so softly spoke once more- querying whether or not Harley should like to know something of delight. Dorian inclined to offer her the meaning behind the Italian 'prego'. Dorian once more appeared decidedly impish as a chuckle hummed within his throat. How readily that amusement seemed to find Harley in turn. The woman admitted that she had believed he had suggested she was pregnant. The Monarch's head inclined to shake.

"I am not often inclined to verbalize such notions as a woman's pregnancy but I....suspected you had misunderstood."

Thatsimper upon his lips so hardly faltered, Dorian reaching to finish the last of his tea- only for Harley to query whether or not we should desire to make the day even bolder. The young woman's query so readily coaxed a look of confusion to his features. How surely he believed his day had been terribly bold as it was!

"Bolder? Perhaps I might be inclined to such, within reason of course, what is your suggestion?"

dorian ellington-aragona