It was, perhaps, a most curious thing to be asked. That which made him decide so many years ago that, perhaps, there was no good to come from holding onto the anger that had once consumed such a vast position of his soul. Harley's query of just what had been his epiphany in that regard seemed to prompt a look of thoughtfulness to his ever-youthful features. Dorian so seemed to consider that very question with no small amount of thought. Matteo's words, certainly, had been the very catalyst for his own questioning of the nature of happiness and yet-what had it been that had truly made him choose to simply let go of the anger that had once prompted him to lash out at the world?

"It was my Father, I suspect. Not Matteo, but the man I called Father for many years. Ferdinand. He was a man surrounded by wealth and privilege in a time in which others struggled to survive from merely one hour to the next. He possessed one of the worst natures I have ever known. He was a bitter, angry, hostile man all his life- one consumed by it,driven by it. He had not an ounce of joy in his entire life that I know of and I should never like to be that man. For years the greatest men in all the world have prophesied the meaning of life and its purpose- but all of that is meaningless if we cannot find happiness in our own existence and for ourselves. Why would I be angry when I do not have to be? I can choose to be happy- and so I did because I have seen what anger does to a man when he will not let go of it."

It was, perhaps, a decidedly philosophical view of the world and one the Monarch was rarely inclined to share and yet- Harley has asked for his very thoughts on the matter. Dorian saw little need not to speak with that same honesty in which he so often did. How she might choose to take on those words so surely remained to be seen and yet such a thing might yet prompt her to consider her own happiness and how surely it was for her to embrace. It was, however, that consideration for her aura that prompted the Fae King to offer his companion a chance to view that drawing he had worked so meticulously upon. Those portraits of people, after all, were perhaps his strongest subject matter. Those portraits were strikingly detailed and distinctly lifelike. Harley was quick to jump down from her chair, her feminine figure hurrying towards him to view that piece. Only to declare she looked 'smoking hot'. How unprepared Dorian had been for such praise! Those very words prompted a flush to his cheeks as the Monarch hurried to insist such a thing was surely the result of his tea even as Harley teased at her pleasure in having him within her store today. It was, Dorian was certain, decidedly pleasing to have one's art appreciated for what it was- rather than who he was. Dorian moved to explain those very colours then, his fingers tracing over those vibrant hues as she asked after them and what he had come to learn they meant. The Monarch so hardly anticipated that very query on why he had not drawn his own soul, the Fae King quick to frown at that very suggestion before insisting that he had so surely attempted such a thing. To view his own soul however had proven decidedly difficult. Whether he so merely lacked the skill or because his vision was clouded by his own mind's eye remained to be seen.

Harley was quick to insist that perhaps such a thing was not so surprising, that people were rarely inclined to see themselves clearly and yet- how assured she was that his aura was undoubtedly 'shiny' and coloured with rainbows. That very notion prompted a chuckle from the Monarch.

"I think perhaps you regard me far too highly, but thank you."

A warm simper so easily found his lips then, before her sudden use of the word D-Man seemed to prompt no small degree of confusion within the King. Such a reference never before having been given to himself- even as Harley insisted it was a good thing. How very odd. His assurance that her soul was not forever trapped within that drawing however seemed to soothe the young woman's distress, the Monarch inclined to admit that while he did possess that very power- he was vastly uninclined to use it. A notion Harley seemed most pleased with,even if she admitted that there was surely some within her life whom she might have enjoyed seeing ensnared. Metaphorically. Dorian so merely allowed one eye to raise in silent question and yet, he so hardly made an effort to prompt the young woman further upon that very topic when she seemed inclined to keep such thoughts to herself. Harley,however, seemed near delighted to keep that picture as she moved to tuck it safely within the pages of her sketchbook. Dorian so taking that moment to allow his good humour to find his features once more- if only to insist she had misunderstood his earlier words. That use of the Italian 'Prego' so certainly not what she had believed it to be. An amused snort was quick to leave the woman then, her features pulling into a bright grin as she insisted she had made a mistake with that very word before, Dorian's own chuckle easily parting his lips then. The Monarch assured that he was inclined to find Harley to be very good company indeed.

Dorian moved to finish the last of his tea then, the Monarch glancing toward his guards if only to assure they remained where he had instructed and that throngs of people had not begun to crowd the entryway of Harleys shop. That pouring rain, mercifully, having kept most people away. It was Harley's sudden offer to do something 'bolder' however that drew the Monarch's attention then. Dorian was inclined to offer a near wary agreement to hear her suggestion in the very least. Even as she insisted he 'relax'. Her idea apparently not 'too crazy'. The woman was quick to turn away from him then, striding toward her cabinets as Dorian so merely watched with a clear curiosity. His silver gaze continued to follow her as she insisted it was her life for him that had prompted her to allow him to 'try' those 'tools of her trade'. A piece of leather abruptly placed down upon the desk before she reached to bring out some sort of....power tool perhaps? Tools, in any capacity, were vastly foreign to the Monarch. Dorian content to eye that machine with clear hesitancy. It's very presence prompting several of his guards to shift closer in preparation to tackle Harley to the ground should her machine somehow pose a veritable threat. Ink and paper and other supplies were quick to follow, Dorian content to merely watch with clear confusion as she insisted that this machine had nearly cost her a kidney- that distinct phrase all but lost upon the King as he gaze shifted to the machine she proudly helped upward. This so evidently her pride and joy. Whatever it was.

"Oh, it's rather.....lovely and very...pointed."

How one complimented such a contraption Dorian so hardly knew. The Monarch attempted to afford his praise for it all the same. After all, she seemed to admire it terribly much. Dorian was so hardly inclined to disappoint her when she held such enthusiasm-even if he so hardly understood any part of it. Harley's very insistence to show him how that machine worked prompted his eyes to lift in expectation. The Monarch so readily fascinated by new things in every sense. The sudden, quiet buzzing of the machine however caused the man to start in surprise. Dorian watched as she drew up those inks before drawing a rose and thorns moniker around the border of the leather. Her movement was smooth, clean and wholly supple. The woman so clearly practised in this very art. Dorian so merely left to look on with a clear and fascinated awe. Harley whipped away that splattered paint, leaving a flawless, tattooed image in her wake, Dorian inclined to readily clap his hands together.

"Oh! Meraviglioso (wonderful)!"

How readily impressed he surely was with that form of art! Such a delightful and inspiring medium! That leather so acting as a skin of sorts to test that medium on. The Fae King so hardly having anticipated that 'gun' might be offered to himself. Several of his guards inclined to abruptly tense as Dorian so merely waved his hand, sending them back to their earlier positions. Harley, after all, had shown no hint of aggression towards him. Dorian certain her offer to try out that artistic medium was one of genuine exploration.

"I should like to try it, yes. I have never used such a medium before. I shall require your guidance though. I am unfamiliar with this machinery and I am rarely allowed to engage with it after the elevator incident....and the laptop......and that rather unfortunate mishap with the....the machine that.....it sorts of spins in a circle beneath a light and imparts heat into food that was previously cold through some sort of sorcery."

The word 'microwave',it seemed, was not within his vocabulary. Dorian frowning slightly at the memory before reaching to take that offered apparatus, the gun lined up neatly with the leather below- Dorian slowly (and carefully) managing to add a single dot of colour that leather.

"Oh! Look! I have managed to do it. How utterly splendid. Lucas, take a photograph of my doing this. I should like to show His Highness this evening."

Dorian Aragona