every king had a story, of ancient glory,sweetly told

In the wake of that New Year, the days that followed were a veritable blur of activity. The Prime Minister, good to his word, had sent his own people to so assist in the modernization of Dorian's palace in more ways than one. The government had provided him an architect and several historical experts whom had readily begun to make plans for the reconstruction of several rooms left in disrepair. Benito, whom thrived upon any sort of activity, had relished taking them about the castle to point out all its historical features. The government too, had provided him with both a personal assistant, whom hurried about the castle with her ipad complaining about something called wifi and what Dorian had learned was called a publicist. This woman a distinctly busy creature whom was constantly on the phone worrying over 'image' or talking with the personal assistant. Dorian had thusly dedicated a room to the pair of them to use as an office and with perhaps some vague hope they might stay within it and cease to hurry about. In the wake of that first public appearance however the palace had been in quite the flurry. A part of the Fae King relished that life and activity and yet another part of the man was almost wholly terrified at the notion of standing on that balcony before his own people. Thousands of them and all come to see this supposed mythical King. Staring at Sebastian and himself. His publicist, Lucille, had assured him she was ready for any and all fall out that might come from his appearance and too the notion that Italy's crown consort was in fact another man.

While Lucille however, may well have been prepared for that evening, nothing, truly, could have prepared Dorian himself and perhaps Sebastian in turn for the sheer amount of people whom had filled the gardens and paths and walkways and surrounded his palace as far as his new security team allowed them to get for that appearance. They were so required to walk out upon that balcony for barely a few minutes, wave to those gathered people and walk back in and yet those few moments had been wholly terrifying to the Monarch despite the easy smile he kept upon his lips throughout. He had been unprepared for the cameras, Dorian assured he was blind from the flashes alone and too- he had hardly been ready for the noise so many thousands of people could make. People screamed his name or Sebastian's and yet for the most part they simply seemed content to cheer. If he had been overcome by that single five minute appearance however then the veritable 'media storm' that had followed was something else entirely. They were fortunate perhaps, in that so much of that was handled by people other than themselves and yet it took a matter of hours before they were on the front of any and every newspaper Italy could print. Some articles were less than flattering. His and Sebastian's shared gender having become the very thing ever newspaper suddenly desired to talk about and there were, it seemed, countless critics along with countless liars. Yet for each and every critical article it seemed there were two more positive ones. Satisfaction with the Monarchy had never rated so high, the palace was inundated with calls for interviews, photographs, and magazine and television appearances. Italy, for the vast majority, having fallen entirely in love with its long lost King and his Consort.

Stepping outside the palace walls had proven a new level of difficult. Dorian having taken Sebastian to see that theatre he had missed during the war all those years ago. Cameras and people seeming to follow them anywhere they went and yet for all that madness and lack of privacy in public the palace itself had become quite determined to protect them both. Sebastian's need for blood had been something of a problem, Dorian unable to sustain the vampire alone and with his newfound fame it was simply out of the question that Sebastian might go into the streets of an evening to find a meal. It was Benito whom had so solved that issue. An entire room within the palace dedicated to Sebastian's use alone. A group of wholly willing volunteers from among the staff agreeing to allow the vampire to feed from them at any time he might desire. The sheer number of volunteers, near all female, assuring Sebastian could very near have his fill each and every night if he desired. Interviews were few and select, Dorian and Sebastian provided with a list of questions the interviewer intended to ask prior to that meeting upon which they were allowed to remove anything they had no desire to answer. No official photographs were released without joint consent and any less then flattering stories or images that attempted to surface about either of them so had a way of simply disappearing well before they could. Those newspapers and magazines were only brought to them if either requested to see them. The palace itself remained a veritable sanctuary where little of the world mattered. Dorian so refusing any official engagements after two in the morning. That time, until dawn, so set aside each and every night for him and Sebastian alone to do as they pleased. Dorian ever-concerned with his lover's happiness in all this. None of it mattered near so much as Sebastian.

The vampire, for his part however, had taken particular interest in doing this interview- the only one Dorian had permitted this evening. Vogue magazine, Sebastian assured him, was an honor to interview for. The neat, well dressed Vogue woman asked those last few questions of them before rising politely to bow to each in turn. Assuring them they would look splendid upon the cover before thanking them and taking her leave. At last leaving the pair alone upon that luxuriant couch within that formal sitting room. Dorian so took the opportunity then to loosen the tie Sebastian had tied for him an hour or so earlier when they had gotten up, the King flopping dramatically onto his back before lying his head in Sebastian's lap. That easy grin danced upon his features still. Dorian, despite the veritable stress of it all those past few days, having retained that eternally good temperament throughout. He lifted his head but momentarily, lips pressing to the bottom of Sebastian's jaw in a wholly teasing kiss, before his head returned to his lovers lap with a soft sigh of satisfaction.

"Do you really think it will go all that well?"

He had spoken to Sebastian alone the evening prior about his decision to hold formal court this evening and so announce his intentions to return home to their own city rather than remain within Italy. He had confided such a decision in none but Sebastian and yet still he worried as to just how it might be received. Yet, surely, some within his court would anticipate such a decision? He hardly sought to abdicate his throne, more so, he was content enough to allow the government to run those affairs as they had been doing these past centuries. For all he loved of his palace and his country and its people there were things it seemed- that he loved more. His gaze lifted briefly to his companions own as such a thought lingered within his mind. Perhaps he was being selfish in this and yet he had spent...years within these gilded halls. He had a veritable world to see and he could not do it from here.

"I suppose we ought to get changed. This should not take overly long. Then we have that meeting with the President..."

Benito, whom was passing in that moment, nodded his approval as Dorian moved at last to roll from the couch, holding out one hand to help Sebastian to his feet and so lead the way back upstairs and to their own apartments. The Monarch pausing a moment to assure they were alone once more before his voice dropped to that mere whisper he knew his lover alone would hear as they walked.

"I have no intention of meeting with the President tonight. I know what he wants, I will see he is taken care off. Tonight, after Court, I have made other arrangements for us. It would be better though if we did not make mention of said plans."

Lest Benito hear of them. Dorian so clearly intending on skipping out on several of his duties this evening without so informing the palace of it, that impish grin tugging at his features before he led the way into their bedroom to change into new, formal attire. He had spent the better part of the prior evening so informing his lover of just where to sit in that throne room, assuring Sebastian he would indeed have his own chair near Dorian's own and that, for the most part, he need only sit and pretend to look as if he was intrigued. The Monarch moved easily then to find the most formal of those tailored suits to change into, Dorian paused before the mirror now with that new tie about his neck, attempting to diligently follow those instructions his lover had provided him with and yet his knot still appeared.....horribly wrong. Heavens but this was difficult!

"Bastian. I have mucked it up again."

That rather British slang fell unbidden from his own lips, Dorian hardly realising he had done it at all as he so turned to present his hopeless effort to his lover. Sebastian's own tie looking close to perfect as Dorian merely allowed a scowl to touch his features now. The man waiting with due patience for Sebastian's assistance in this before his own hands lifted but slightly to straighten Sebastian's own tie for him in turn with a soft simper. His silver gaze travelled the length of his lover then, assured the man looked utterly splendid, his own heart but fluttering slightly at even the mere sight before his features turned contemplative once more. Dorian stepping back just so. Something almost akin to a touch of nervousness seeming to taint him in that moment as he regarded the man before him once more.

"I have something to give you for this official occasion, Mon Cher, but I fear truly you may find it a little....overwhelming."

dorian aragona