How curious he found himself, in those moments in which his gaze lingered upon that single, dark space Sebastian had so identified as the very place of his 'death' all those years ago. Far more the one question so sprung to the forefront of the Fae Kings mind in those moments. Dorian finding himself curious as to what Sebastian had been doing and whom he had been with? What had he done after? Had he ever returned to his family? Where was his maker? For he knew already the man had been left alone, the mere notion of that displeasing even to the Fae if only for the sheer confusion such a thing had surely caused. Even if his lovers transformation had been some centuries ago, Dorian found himself afflicted with a feeling of disdain all the same to consider the distress such a night might have caused his lover. A dislike for this maker once more rising within himself and yet he retains such words. Sebastian seeing fit to hurry past such a discussion, Dorian allowing him to do so if only for the manner in which he is sure it is near impossible to ask the man for details upon his death in any way that might not bring about offense. It was not a night for that discussion in the least and yet the vampire had already afforded him more than he had anticipated this evening in even that knowledge of just where he had died. Sebastian, as himself, was notoriously private in such affairs. So much of it, surely, a manner of their upbringing and a distinct understanding that one did not speak of that which was unpleasant and yet too, Dorian had so come to consider that both were of the opinion some things were better left unsaid. That his lover had shared even this was of significance- one hardly lost upon the Fae- those Italian words uttered softly as he pressed against his companion just so. The vampire seemingly content to wave away such things and bring talk instead to England's own Monarch.

It was a matter of true curiosity to the Fae, this notion of such an elderly Queen upon the throne. Surely she must be beloved if it was so no rival had seen fit to dispose of her! An heir aged in his sixties was equally unheard off, Dorians gaze widening slightly at this newfound information. There was no ruler, to his knowledge, to have ever lasted so long upon a throne outside himself, the Fae finding himself near stunned that her son and heir had so seemingly decided to merely await the death of his Mother with no attempt to seize power and- more than that- yet another, younger heir existed still and he too, was merely inclined to wait. Within his own time there were few whom had last more than ten years upon the throne, if a King was not taken by sickness, he was, more often than not, so disposed of by a rival of the right blood or, in some cases, the eldest son grown tired of waiting for his chance to lead. Reigns were short, yet so too was the very lifespan of the human man. Most men became fathers in their teenage years if only to assure one of his blood existed to take up that crown when his own inevitable downfall came. The world it seemed, had changed once more and vastly so. That this Prince Williams wife was expecting was perhaps the only unsurprising information he had so been given this night. After all, it was the duty of those of royal blood to reproduce. Dorian's head nodded now in understanding even if the whole idea was baffling to him.

It was only then, after he had so pilfered his lovers hot chocolate with that distraction of lips and tongue- that glorious taste of Sebastian's own kiss still upon him- that Dorian moved to recline upon that wooden seat within the centre of that glass room so surrounded by lights. He had told none of how he had come to arrive within that city they now called home. Even Samantha had been denied such knowledge and yet, here and now, some desire to confide such things within his lover existed. If they were to travel to Naples in the coming evening it would be imprudent for Sebastian to lack such knowledge, Dorian wholly determined to so prepare the vampire to the best of his ability for that which might occur upon their arrival. He trusted his consort, more than any other, this alone seeming to prompt that tale from his lips even though there existed a part within him so loath to share it. There was much, after all, of his early life in which he took little pride. Dorian so assured that boy he had been then was not the man he was today and yet to so admit such faults to the very being he cared the most about was a distinctly difficult task. Sebastian's opinion was of the upmost importance to him. His lover mattered, desperately so, Dorian hardly wishing to so taint any of that which they shared and yet too, with that journey to his palace so looming the Fae was assured that there was but some information the man needed to know and too- that Dorian himself would prefer to tell rather than have another attempt to detail it for him.

He paused but several times throughout that tale to so assure his lover understood and yet too the Monarch had so failed to anticipate that, even now, so many centuries later the very memory of that day might plague his thoughts still. Emotion he had long since believed had faded was content to press upon him until it felt near oppressive. Dorian almost ashamed, in some sense, to speak of the women he had failed to help that day, those he had watched burn and done nothing while Alphonso took it upon himself to lay waste to the village in its entirety. Religion, Dorian is sure, held much to answer for in this world and yet he cares not to think of it now. The man so refusing to allow his voice to waver, though a thickness of sorts had taken over it, his gaze fixated upon those city lights for he dared not look at Sebastian for fear of just what he might see there within his lovers blue gaze. He did not speak in full of all that had occurred, for it hardly mattered now, the Fae content to offer those details of relevance alone as he so described the eventual deaths of each of his family members. Sickness had taken most. The Plague running rampant through Naples within those coming years. His Mother and several sister lost to that Black Death. Dorian hardly choosing to speak of his brothers or his father and his own actions so surrounding the end of several off them, the Monarch assured that which he had spoken off was shameful another without adding to it. His gaze, so at last, daring to lift to the blue of the man's own as he rested upon his leg.

It was that soft utterance of that simple term of endearment that so seemed to see that tension leave his frame at last, a weakened simper finding its way to his lips in a moment of relief to see that Sebastian, in the least, was not horrified to learn of that which Dorian was assured had been a crime in itself. The words the vampire uttered seeing his own features frown but slightly in consideration of them. He knew well, just as Sebastian said, that he could not have stopped them, not all of them in the least. His orders would be followed last, his eldest brother outranking him entirely and yet there was but one affinity in the least his lover held no knowledge of, one that would surely have afforded him an edge over all others, that very ability that had seen him survive those dark ages and yet- even with the assistance of those obsidian blades that came so willingly to his summons there had, surely, been too many that day.

"No. They would not have listened to me. My orders meant nothing in the presence of Alphonso. Yet still I cannot help but think surely I should have done something. Anything."

Perhaps had he raised even his voice in opposition he may yet have saved but one more life. Dorian assured he had showed nothing but cowardice that day and yet too, as Sebastian had said, what good would it have done him? They would not have stopped. They would not have listened. The village would still have burned. His thoughts however are hardly given to progress further, Sebastian so seeming to have seized upon the end of his tale, a veritable stream of questions seeming to leave his lovers lips then and yet the Fae King had anticipated just this. The softest of chuckles so leaving his lips then at his companion's sudden look of concern. His own words soft then, so seeking to assuage his lover's fears.

"Yes, Bastian. I know of this Minister and he knows of me. I signed the Accordo della Corona Ombra in eighteen sixty one that so allowed this Minister to act in my stead until the time in which that curse broke, if it ever did. The government, as you call it, knows of my existence as do many of my people, though how many believe I am true after all these years and not a mere fabrication I cannot say. As for knowing I am missing, I believe they are aware, the Hunter Council of Italy has been searching for me at the government's behest I believe. My existence for all the years was kept very much unknown outside of Italy because they feared for my safety. My being missing, I imagine, has been dealt with much the same. Quietly."

A King so caught within his own castle, after all, was the simplest of targets. Assassination, perhaps, was not as rampant as it had been within his own day and yet such precautions had been taken all the same. Dorian paused for but a moment then to so allow Sebastian to understand that which was being said and to, in turn, so come to terms with just how significant their arrival in Naples would be. His lovers query upon those dark hunters however, saw his features shift but once more in that consideration. Dorian having wondered of them much himself, his head shaking softly.

"I have not seen them again, not since that day. One of them was killed during my escape, the other three I fled from. They were not part of what you call the Council of Hunters. This I know. They called me by name, though whether they knew merely that or they knew indeed whom I truly was I cannot say. I am sorry I did not tell you these things sooner."

He allowed his voice to fall silent at last then as he rested upon Sebastian's leg, gaze inclined up to the vampire once more, that faint touch of nervousness afflicting him now, concerned for how his lover might handle such knowledge.

Dorian Aragona