Sebastian Ellington

Cause i've been dancing with shadows
waiting till the morning after

The undead Englishman was entirely aware of that brush of Dorian's fingers against his own, the man all too willing to give into that soft embrace of Dorian's hand. A small frown crossed his lips all the same, that sudden brush of affection was hardly unusual and yet, there felt something different about it all the same. As if that contact of flesh was more intended to be grounding within the present lest the King lose himself in memories of the past. A hint of concern crossed his features as he glanced down at the Fae King. He hadn't intended for his line of inquiries to so prompt such a dismal state within his lover, even if Dorian did his best to hide it. Although he certainly was not as astute in his observations as his lover was, he had become devoted enough to the monarch to so identify even the simplest glimpses within the man. It wasn't often, after all, that Dorian's gaze turned away from him when they spoke and yet, this time, it did. His eyebrows wrinkled ever so slightly as he seeked to direct the King's attention from those thoughts that lingered upon his kind and yet - to do so was a decidedly difficult task. After all, he hadn't the faintest notion of which topics might hold beneath that exterior a whole world of regrets, dislikes, or guilt and yet, despite this, he found himself inquiring all the same of that devoted fae Dorian had so spoken of.

That small shrug he was presented with caused his head to tilt to the side ever so slightly in an inquisitive fashion. He remained wholly silent in those moments after, simply listening to this Matteo's dealing with the royal family. That notion that the Frenchman had rallied his own troops solely for Dorian's mother, and too that he would sneak toys for the fae King alone so only helped to confirm those suspicions all the more. After all, why would any man go through such trouble for a woman if not for love? And truly, why Dorian out of the fifteen other children she'd had if not for the plausibility that this one had been his? Still, the fact that his lover had held fifteen other siblings had hardly been lost upon the vampire, his head shaking ever so slightly as he commented, "Dear Lord, I had four others and they were bad enough, I could scarcely imagine fifteen." Much less Dorian's mother being pregnant fifteen times, then again, such times were vastly different than his own - which were even far removed from the numbers of more modern families still. He supposed for Dorian, at least, it might not nearly have been as terrible with the entirety of that palace to house them. After all, he'd heard tales of Caserta's vast size.

Still, it was quite clear that this Matteo had put forth some clear effort in the fae King's growth not only as a boy, but to the man he'd so become. And yet, to still say nothing was entirely...inquisitive. It only further served to confused the vampire and yet he still saw little reason to voice those contemplations. Dorian's inquiry on why he took such interest in Matteo caused Sebastian to shake his head ever so slightly, "I was just...curious. Do you think he's heard you were missing?" The underlying question, however, was perhaps slightly different - would Sebastian run into this man on their trip to Naples in but a few days? Would he still be left with those lingering suspicions? And if so, how difficult was it to so coax a finicky fae that he was worth the hand of the King of Italy and, more importantly, his son, if such were the case? A small frown crossed his lips and yet, Sebastian could only attempt to present himself favorably all the same, he supposed. It was better to be safe and coax the affections of Dorian's court before any other sort of 'attention' that the King had so alluded to.

He was perhaps a bit more eager to steer the conversation away from Matteo and Dorian's own parents with inquiries instead of how the palace had so managed to function with five hundred years of such limited resources. How they had existed for so long without want was altogether baffling for the vampire, one in which he questioned without knowledge of Dorian's efforts to so shield him from the devastation of the truth. He was unaware, truly, of the conditions in which the key so lived within, much less quite what he was prying into in that delicate moment. Rather, it was a sort of exasperation that had crossed his lips as he inquired of the candlesticks and the warmth the vampire often so demanded from his own servants. His blue eyes flickered towards his lover at that sigh of defeat that so left Dorian's lips, that singular vocal cue warning him that, perhaps what was to come was not nearly as pleasant as the King had so made that luxurious life out to be. His own eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as Dorian so saw fit to tell him the true extent of what had occurred behind those gilded walls. That notion of life existing on but an endless repeat of itself each and every day was perhaps not wholly shocking, he anticipated as much to some extent when one is confined to a singular place for the majority of one's existence and yet, he had not truly begun to consider the monotony of such a life.

A small frown crossed his features as Dorian spoke of those who had gone mad with the knowledge of doing the exact same things to the exact same linens over and over again, much less the loss of that taste of food and yet, in a way, it was that feeling of sunlight that so resonated within him. He knew well what it was like to forget what the sun felt like on his skin - that simple parallel enough to draw the vampire's gaze away from his lover and towards the floor of that capsule they road in. That guilt settled quite uncomfortably upon the Englishman as the realization of exactly what sort of life had existed within those halls dawned upon him. His lips were pressed together and, slowly, his head bobbed in understanding. He allowed a singular moment of silence before his lips parted to offer his lover two simple words, "I'm sorry." He was sorry for asking after it, for prying when he clearly shouldn't have, for forcing his lover to relive those memories with his near continual line of questioning and insistence when Dorian was likely attempting to shield them both from the truth of that life the King was so returning to. And yet, despite it all, he understood now the apprehension that had filled the man at so returning to that place that had been his prison for so long.

That brush of Dorian's lips across his knuckles drew his gaze back towards the King, simply watching him as he so strove to turn those distinctly despondent memories into a more positive outlook on the days to come. Life, Sebastian decided, was quite fitting for his lover. He could see well why such an affinity had so blossomed within the man. He had been denied it for so long and yet how effortlessly he embraced it now, and how willing he was to so share it with others. "It will be nothing short of splendid, I'm sure." The vampire responded, wholly attempting to at least agree with that prospective outlook for what that royal Court so had to look forward to. That final question, was the last one he dared to utter on the topic at hand, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side. Nine months, he supposed, was not terribly long to be gone. It was unlikely much had changed within nine months and yet, he was assured they would be happy to have their rightful ruler back where he belonged for as long as Dorian so wished to stay there.