There was so little about this evening that was, in any sense, proving to be even remotely salvageable and yet as to who was entirely to blame for it Dorian hardly knew. It was unfair of him, perhaps, to so expect Samantha to uphold herself to a dining etiquette she had hardly been alive to appreciate. Indeed, more than that, it was perhaps unfair to so expect her modern way of thinking with all its ideals and freedoms and differing views to so align with his own and perhaps Sebastian's in turn- both men so very much older than Samantha. Their ideals, it would seem, perhaps very much older in turn- Dorian aged even beyond Sebastian and from a time in which such a way of thinking was indeed, a veritable way of life. He should not have expected Samantha to understand, much less act as if she did. It was very near abnormal in his culture to express these sorts of accusations at the dinner table, in the very least it was unusual to offer them at all. Opinion mattered, desperately so and yet the offering of opinion in any fashion was a delicate interplay that occurred behind closed doors unless some great and immediate danger so threatened all involved. It was....normal to keep ones opinion to oneself no matter how distressing. The accusations Samantha so wildly flung about would have been far better offered after Sebastian had left so Dorian himself might have confronted the vampire about them and prevented Samantha any further awkwardness in that fashion. Yet he supposed this was merely another display of those changing times, of a world he still didn't understand. After all- he hardly intended to reduce the woman to tears.

For several moments still Dorian simply remains silent in the interim of his own sharp, authoritative vocalisation, affording Samantha no further attention, offering Sebastian those few accented words to reassure the man before returning his attention to his meal that he had taken but a single bite off. He had been harsher then he intended with the woman perhaps, unfairly placing his expectations upon her when she did not fully appreciate the extent of them and yet still a certain part of the Fae King believes that his roommate had shown entirely poor judgement in this whole scenario. He did not regret his own course of action, though he did perhaps, regret so being forced to display this side of himself. One that had been near utterly dormant away from his throne and those gilded halls. Such is the very nature of the man however that he cannot help but feel at the sight of those tears Samantha so desperately tried to hide. Ah, but how he had always had a weakness for crying women! Sebastian's own words see his attention shift once more, silver gaze resting upon his lover, the vampires words curious in some sense, indicating perhaps a far bigger story then the Fae had ever truly realised and yet he offers nothing on it now, merely allowing those thoughts to turn over within his mind and tease at his ever curious nature. The apology upon Sebastian's lips was hardly missed and yet Samantha, it seemed, had become wholly despondent. A soft sigh upon Dorian's own lips now.

It is with a delicate ease that the man so reaches into his own pocket to produce that fine royal blue silk handkerchief rimmed in lace and decorated in his own insignia no less. This item one of the few possessions he had retained from home that had been upon him that fateful day- that piece of cloth utterly extravagant for an item so commonplace and yet every possession had once spoken of a person's status- this no less. He reaches easily then to offer it covertly to the young woman, pressing it softly into her hand, allowing that gentle simper to so touch his lips once more in some effort to alleviate this situation. His words entirely quiet and for she alone in that moment.

"Come now Sam, whatever has occurred we will solve it- I promise."

He offers the woman words much the same as he had offered Sebastian in some sense and yet they were entirely meaningful. Whatever this 'event' so was the man was determined to discover its truth. Yet not now at this table an iIdeally at the expense of neither his crying roommate nor his uncomfortable boyfriend. There were facets of their lives, after all, that neither Dorian nor Sebastian had so ventured into with one another, not yet, though it seemed such conversations might be better had sooner rather than later and yet once more- it was theirs to have alone. For Samantha however, Dorian was wholly determined to try to alleviate her fear and so reassure the woman that despite her impromptu outburst he was hardly angry with her. He allows the handkerchief to remain in Samantha's grasp to use as she saw fit, leaning away from her now to return his attention to his meal. It is with centuries of practice no less that Dorian so seeks to, once more, return some sense of normalcy to the table even despite the strain that pressed upon him. The man unwilling to have Samantha cry and yet utterly unwilling all the same to have the man he loved attacked. Dorian so effortlessly concealing his own tumbling concerns, pressing them down within himself- at least for now. The man doing his best to salvage something of this evening.

"You did cook a very lovely meal Samantha, I do like the lemon and it was very good of you to make it for us. Perhaps we might have some wine?"

How unfortunate it was not something stronger.

Dorian Aragona