Dorian AragonaHis Royal Highness

There was an increasing sense of anxiety so beginning to build within the ancient Fae. He was out of his depth with this business of tea making and too- so pretending to be a servant was a decidedly risky game lest he make some sort of mistake and so invite the child to query the truth of his relationship with Sebastian. Something that Dorian was, somehow, almost instinctively sure was not decidedly wise. At least not until he had so head from his lover himself as to just who this child was and what he presence might mean. Until then he would simply attempt to keep her both entertained and placated in the hopes her short attention span might find itself exhausted and she seek to return from whence she came. He had known, innately, that she would not accept pretend tea, the Fae so attempting to do as he had witnessed before and place that teapot on the stove only to have it spit flames at him in a fashion akin to the fires of hell. It was with a yelp of fright that the man moved to hurry away from it, eyeing it with clear disdain, the girl child seemingly amused with his efforts before she proceeded to announce there was seemingly little he knew how to do. Dorian huffing slightly.

"My talents exist more outside the kitchen, it would seem, though I am sure I will learn."

Should not a good servant at least strive to learn? Dorian assured that sounded as good a response as any before he found himself handed a box of tea leaves and a strainer, the little vampire attempting to explain just what both were for as Dorian eyed them with both a ready inquisitiveness and too a clear wariness. How obscure. Any further wonderment of that tea however was ended by the sudden sizzle and hiss of that boiling water, Dorian glancing hurriedly upward just in time to see that teapot crack and explode from the pressure of the heat, the Fae wasting no time in diving for cover behind the pantry door as several pieces of ceramic scattered across the kitchen. His features both shocked and horrified. What a horrid thing that tea pot was! He could feel his heart near pounding in his chest! The vampire, for her part, seeming utterly unalarmed by the ruined pot and sodden kitchen. Something within the Fae so tightening with discomfort at the idea he had made any sort of mess within his lover's kitchen. What if he had been fond of that tea pot? How on earth was he to explain it. The child's near taunting words seeing his own features frown but slightly.

"Yes. I suppose I will be. You didn't tell me that would happen though, you should have warned me. You didn't get wet did you?"

A part of him, still, remained ever as chivalrous as always. Seeking to assure himself the girl had not been soaked and thus had no reason to throw him at anything before he moved to hunt for a towel, attempting to dab at the water and dry that stove. Hmm. This cleaning business was not to terribly difficult. It was only one that stove was dry that Dorian managed to summon the courage to try again lest he somehow upset the girl. The man reaching for another tea pot, this a red one, Dorian filling it to place on the relit stove. This time he was careful to watch it, waiting for that whistle before reaching to remove it, the Fae King so burning himself twice in the process before managing, at last, to pour that hot water over the leaves in the strainer (after several failed attempts) and into the cups. Those cups were placed on their appropriate saucers at the dining table, the cookies tipped onto a plate and placed between them before he moved to grasp the little vampires hand once more and lead her to that table, pulling her chair out for her and closing the door on the kitchen to hide the burned, wet, and messed room. The Fae thoroughly shaken by the time he managed to seat himself at the table at last, managing a weakened simper at his achievement. His burned fingers stinging slightly.

"Do you like it? Shall we commence the playing of 'tea party' now?"