That sudden, sharp 'no' that so passed the young woman's lips was hardly lost upon him. Dorian entirely aware of the inappropriateness of his own question in that moment and yet the inquiry had left his lips almost unbidden and entirely in response to that shock that so afflicted his system- both at Samantha's outburst and indeed at the notion that any being might find anything less than pleasure at Sebastian's fangs. It was highly possible, he supposed, that within that wealth of chemical combinations that existed with such potent force within the vampires own unique venom that there would surely be, in all the world, those select few whom might be immune to it, whom felt that pain such pleasure normally so hurriedly swamped. People whose bodies might reject that venom somehow. Yet- Samantha seemed almost accusing in her words, as if such a thing had not merely been an accidentally painful experience but one entirely unwarranted. Dorian's own attempts to press the conversation elsewhere seemingly lost upon the woman despite his request to allow such a topic to be cast aside for another time. He had no desire, in any sense, to so belittle the woman's concern and yet there exists within that ancient Fae a distinctly forthright understanding of what is right and what is proper- the man a product of his time, of his upbringing, such a thing surely displayed more heavily than it had ever been before in those moments in which he seeks to calm the woman and so effortlessly disregard such an interruption.

Samantha however- refuses to take up that subtle hint. The woman continuing then, declaring such an incident to be an attack entirely against her wishes, proceeding then to so accuse Sebastian of somehow holding her by force- her tone distinctly accusing now and rising in irritation as her emotions seem to grasp hold of her. There exists within the Fae King little more than utter astonishment in those moments. Samantha so blatantly continuing as if she had become entirely possessed in a manner quite unlike he had ever seen her before. An entirely uncomfortable feeling settles within the pit of his stomach, something akin to a fist so clenching within his chest at the utter embarrassment of this moment. In all his years of life he had never once witnessed anyone behave in such a manner, the man oblivious perhaps, to the notion such outspoken words were not as utterly rare as they once had been. Yet women, in his time, had never behaved like this. It was different, unusual, outside what he understands- the confusion on his face at this entire scenario surely missed by the woman and yet apparent perhaps to his lover in that moment.

"Samantha, please...."

His voice is hardly loud and yet surely of strength enough to be heard. His silver gaze lifting to the woman's own, imploring her so silently to stop. Her words alone were distressing to him, this notion that Sebastian had attacked her almost ridiculous to him, what he knew of his own boyfriend hardly seeming to align with this picture she so sought to paint and yet- Samantha had certainly never lied to him before, to dismiss the woman's claims would be foolish on his own part. He knew entirely what his lover was, he knew of what he was capable and yet still a part within Dorian simply refused to belive that such a tale did not hold far more to it then was so presented by his female companion. It was, either way, not a story so required to be told here and now. To think, he had been so concerned the pair may have shared an evening together! How much he would have preferred that to whatever it was that seemed to be occurring now. Samantha seemed to hesitate in her words, Dorian oblivious to Sebastian's power so attempting to coax the woman into a state of serenity as the Fae girl seemed to struggle, her thoughts seeming almost confused in that moment before she so determinedly kept her gaze from his own and continued in her accusations. Claiming she had begged the vampire to stop.

"Samantha that is enough!

His own voice so slices that room with far more authority then he had ever placed within his words before. His gentle, pleasant demeanour so having shifted into that persona he had never yet been forced to wear within this city and certainly not within this house. Dorian so effortlessly falling into the role of King he had portrayed for several centuries. The silver of his gaze held entirely on her own now, each word terse and yet measured in tone with little room for argument.

"I have asked very little of you this evening, an evening that was your own by design. You asked to meet Sebastian and I invited him here on your request, he is a guest in your home. More so, you are speaking about a man who means a very great deal to me- I think you have forgotten that."

He allows only the faintest of pauses within his words, affording Samantha no true moment to respond before he continues.

"I am by no means dismissing your words, something has clearly occurred and it matters greatly to me that you are upset by it but I do not for a moment believe that this is the entirety of the story. Sebastian does not possess any sort of immobilizing ability for a start nor is this appropriate conversation for this very moment. Are you quite done?"

His gaze continues to linger in an utterly unwavering fashion upon the woman, his displeasure entirely clear. He held no belief in any sense that his lover was some sort of saint, to believe Sebastian had lived a life free of anything less than murder was a naivety Dorian is far too old to allow himself to exist within. Besides, was he himself not guilty of just that same crime several times over? Was he not worse in some of what he had done in all his centuries of life? Yet these were things Dorian held little desire to discuss over dinner. He cared for Samantha's welfare in every sense and yet by that same token he so simply refused to believe that this incident was entirely as Samantha described it to be. It would be a matter of dishonour to defend Sebastian further, a man was capable of defending himself and yet how strange such a feeling and how much it eclipsed him in that moment, that need to simply protect what and who was his to protect- even from Samantha. His silver gaze at last returning to Sebastian now to meet that ardent blue of his lovers own. A weakened simper so tracing his lips. Those soft lyrics uttered to the vampire alone so seeking to assuage any concerns.

"Je vais bien mon cher. Pardonnez mon propre élan dans ce domaine, il semble que je suis en possession d'un désir de défendre à la fois le caractère sacré de la salle à manger manières et vous à son tour. En six cents ans, je ne l'ai jamais fait. Nous allons résoudre ce problème, quel qu'il soit. Je suis assuré." (I am fine, my dear. Forgive my own outburst in this, it seems I am in possession of a desire to defend both the sanctity of dining manners and you in turn. We will solve this, whatever it is. I am assured.)

Dorian Aragona