Ah, but how he so delighted in that husky tone his lovers voice so had a habit of taking on whenever the vampire found himself in any state of budding excitement! Sebastian so having a habit of becoming decidedly more British in his accent in any of those moments those more instinctive needs seemed to take hold of him. Dorian having come to find the trait endearing if not wholly attractive in turn. The Monarch entirely sure he would delight, perhaps far too much, in that 'show' Sebastian so referred too- the mere consideration of it seeing him find his lovers lips with a notable fervour, one the vampire in turn seemed to readily take up as Sebastian pressed against him and that hand fell to his waist. Beneath Sebastian was, surely, one of his favoured places to be. How unfortunate it was that they would fail to see anything at all if they allowed themselves to get too carried away here and now. Dorian wholly reluctant to pull away and yet he was assured he might make up for it later. His lip pulled into a simper at the groan he was afforded from his lover as he moved to take the man's hand and guide him from the room all the same, pausing briefly to instruct those maids in just what his desires were for when they returned before heading down to the floor below. So many of those rooms were simply ignored, if only for his lack of desire to see within them and be reminded of that he had no inclination to remember. So many of those rooms were just as they had been left all those centuries ago, the furniture unmoved and layered in dust, the curtains having long since fallen into disrepair and the floor unpolished in centuries. He would, surely, be required to inspect most of them eventually if only to decide what should be done with them and yet he dreaded the thought of seeing his mother's parlour, his infant brothers toys still scattered on the floor and left to be forgotten- untouched since the day the child had succumb to that fever in the night none could stop. He feared too, seeing his father's study, even though the blood had long been cleaned from its floors. Dorian merely affording Sebastian knowledge of just what those rooms entailed within.

"If you should like to explore any of them later you are quite welcome too."

It was he alone whom so sought to escape those memories and yet he hardly saw any sense in so denying his lover the chance to view those fifteenth century rooms, old and forgotten as they surely were. His thoughts drawn from such idle wonderings only by Sebastian's sudden discovery of the dreadful portrait of himself. Dorian was so rarely ever embarrassed in any sense, that flush of colour upon his cheeks a veritable first for the Fae in his lover's presence and yet with his newfound knowledge of modern dress that portrait before him seemed near horrific. Sebastian's assurance that such an outfit was fetching upon him at least managed to stir that amusement back to his features even as he attempted to move the vampire past it while so instructing him to at least attempt to wipe the image from his mind. Dorian assured there could be little worse than that as far as portraits went. Perhaps his not all of his lovers own paintings were entirely flattering and yet Sebastian, in the least, had not been dressed so foolishly in any of them. The man's mention of swimwear seeing Dorian's own head tilt but slightly, the Fae King assured he might have to discover just what this entailed all the same.

His consort's hesitation at the top of those stairs was only momentary. Those armed guards seeming to dissuade the vampire slightly and yet Dorian was wholly determined to have him continue downward and into that corridor below. There was a dankness to that tunnel he disliked, the air cooler without any windows to allow the place to absorb the warmth of the sun during the day and yet too- it was that very lack of sun that so protected some of those precious artefacts sealed within. Sebastian's expression so held little beyond bewilderment as he spoke, Dorian unable to prevent that slightly impish look to his own features before he moved to press upon that heavy door that groaned and protested being asked to open. Admitting the pair, at last, into that breathtaking treasury that so contained a wealth of history of the past so perfectly preserved along with row upon row of gold stored over the years with nothing to spend it upon. An ancient savings account of sorts- even if Dorian hardly held the knowledge to comprehend the truth of what he owned. The Fae King assured that money so old was likely not to hold any true value any longer. After all, he could not use it, as it was, to buy anything surely and yet that rate of conversion was yet another facet of modernity lost upon him.

That look of utter shock that so adorned his lovers features was one the Monarch was not assured he had ever quite seen before, his own brow furrowing slightly, unsure as to what thoughts turned within his companions mind in that moment as the vampire slowly turned in place in an effort to take in what existed around him. Dorian himself so entirely ignorant of the truth value of any of it. Indeed, the man was near convinced it was all but worthless. The idea that one kilogram of gold might be exchanged for thirty eight thousand dollars meant decidedly little to the ancient man. His understanding of modern currency limited at best, features frowning slightly once more in some effort to understand. Sebastian, for his part, appearing all the most flustered as he spoke of 'net value' and 'assets', words the still held little meaning to the Fae and yet he was not so bewildered in turn to fail to understand his lover was so attempting to compare what he owned with what Dorian held in this room. How such a glorious home, several of them, including Belton might be somehow worth less than the contents of one room was equally as baffling to the Fae. His head shaking softly.

"That cannot be right. I do not understand this."

His silver gaze lifted away from those piles of gold as Sebastian turned back to him. The vampire seeming to desire his attention in full in that moment, Dorian listening with a distinct care. Gold, it seemed, was worth more than paper money and yet he so required that paper money if he desired to actually purchase anything even though, once it became paper- it was somehow worth less? His features shifted readily into that look of contemplation, Dorian of a decidedly sharp mind when he should choose to utilise it and yet this notion he might well break Italy's economy let alone that paper money was capable of 'depreciating' was outside his own level of education in finance to process. The Fae King silent for several moments before choosing those words with a distinct care in some effort to convey his learning to his lover.

"I do not understand these words you use, but, what you mean to say is that gold is of higher value then paper money and I should not exchange all of this, at once, for paper money because the paper money is somehow.....less valuable over......time?"

It was a desperately rudimentary understanding and yet the Monarch had managed to seize upon at least that core concept the vampire was so attempting to convey. That gold was worth more as gold. That it would be folly to exchange it all. Dorian glancing upward at last, seeking some assurance from his companion that he was correct in his thinking before he seemed to contemplate further, one hand reaching idly out to select a single golden coin from atop the nearest pile, turning it about within his fingers in that contemplative fashion. His gaze returned to Sebastian once more.

"You said I should only convert as much as I need. How much do I need? Perhaps I ought to have someone take note and record all that I have here and within my other treasuries in Turin, Capodimonte and Portici- would this be astute?"

That he was so admitting to three other treasuries of equal splendour and that this was but a fraction of his wealth displayed before them now had hardly seemed to occur to the man. Dorian still so evidently failing to understand just what he had, though his understanding to maintain it rather than convert it, had, in the least, taken hold within his mind. He moved then to step away from his lover at last, wandering towards that ancient bookcase, his fingers tracing the spines of those aged notebooks with delicate care to brush the dust from them and eye what was printed upon the back. The Fae King so clearly searching for one book in particular before drawing it carefully from the shelf, a second one selected a moment later. It was with a delicate care that his fingers moved to tug softly as those worn leather ties that held the first notebook closed, his fingers brushing lightly across those pages before closing it again and returning to his companion (who may or may not have recovered from his bewilderment).

"Bastian? Do you recall I told you before that I had a gift to give you once we reached my palace? I have had these for some time but it is so that, for me, they do not mean very much anymore and that you might appreciate them far more. Be gentle as you open them though- they are as old as I am."

He held those two leather bound books towards the vampire now, allowing him to take them and open the first, page after page filled with sketches, designs, ideas, portraits, even some of Dorian himself and landscape paintings so crafted by the young Leonardo Di Vinci, his name signed at the bottom of each. Artworks and ideas unseen by the modern world. That history itself did not know existed.

"It was Leonardo's notebook, the other is Michelangelo's- his has far more art in it. Leonardo's is more ideas and philosophy and designs. I have no need for them anymore, I should like you to have them instead. I hope they intrigue you, Mon Cher."

Dorian Aragona