It was no secret that Sebastian was particularly fond of the musical arts in every fashion they could be found - from symphonies to solo classical works and operas to musicals. They spoke to his soul and, in turn, the vampire had enjoyed more nights spent in opera houses than perhaps any other activity - except, of course, within the beds of others. It was natural, the way his gaze so drifted to the exterior of that renovated theatre and yet, tonight, he knew well they were here for another matter entirely. His head bobbed ever so slightly at that suggestion to, perhaps, visit the exquisite, updated interior of that music hall though he made no immediate effort to make good on such plans. He was attuned enough to the King to so pick up on nearly frivolous fashion at which the suggestion was made in the first place. After all, surely there would be a near plethora of other nights ahead of them in which they might explore that very place. For now, however, the man contented himself with merely trailing in the wake of that regal Monarch, that hat and reading glasses doing particularly little to erase those centuries of perfect posture from his lover's tone physique. Sebastian found his place slightly behind and to the right of that man he so adored, the crystalline blue of his irises too cast upwards to so regard that bronze colored statue.

It was only that exclamation that saw his gaze drift, his head bobbing but moments later to confirm that this was the very face of that acclaimed artist the world so recognized. It was true, he must have aged considerably since Dorian had last kept company with him and yet, Leonardo had continued his life where the fae's had existed in a state of perpetual suspension. He gestured only briefly towards those four status that surrounded that great artist, those students had failed to ever hold a brush to the work of their master and yet, they were each still noteworthy in their own right. He had almost come to expect that contemplative silence he was presented with, the vampire equally as willing to simply linger in the wake of those emotions that surely gripped the heart of his companion at being so presented with the stark reality of the man his admirer had become all those years ago. Those moments seemed to stretch on and yet, Sebastian hardly faltered, eternally patient, it would seem, in this. The Monarch's lips parted, so softly voicing those emotions that had lingered even throughout the centuries.

Sebastian had no words of comfort to offer his companion, his bright blue eyes merely settling upon his lover in those moments. "I'm sorry, Ma Bichette." He uttered softly, his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. It was nothing but natural for the vampire to wish little but joyousness for the fae and yet, even he had to admit that it was quite likely things would have turned out vastly different had the once Italian prince stolen away with Leonardo. The freedom he would have experienced! The life! And, in turn, the grief. Or, perhaps that very artist would have been the singular soul to so coax the King to produce another of his kind, perhaps in turn Leonardo himself could be standing here in his place admiring a statue of someone else? It was a veritable ripple effect that could have danced through time and space itself, tearing about realities in it's wake. That game of possibilities was entirely mocking in nature and, surely, never rewarding in any fashion, the vampire's features shifted into the subtlest of frowns and yet, in this, he was assured it was not his place to say more than he already had. Leonardo had already been lost to his own mortality and now they, gifted with everlasting life, still stood side by side. Surely that was all that mattered?

He tore his gaze from that chiseled profile of his lover's feature, merely trailing behind him as Dorian circled that statue in a clearly judgemental fashion. Those four fortunate souls that stood at Leonardo's feet were graced with but a fleeting glimpse from the Englishman, their work of far lesser importance than their master - to the point that Sebastian himself was able to name little of their artwork. Instead, it was that single inquiry of which of those beings had been rumored to have so captivated Leonardo's love. He glanced at that name carved with such distinct care upon the plaque before him, merely circling the statue once again before he paused before the figure of a young man with curled hair, the name beneath was printed in serif letters, 'Andrea Salai'. "It was him, I believe." The vampire offered, knowing well that Dorian would no doubt studiously appraise the likeness of the nearly boyish features of that man carved in stone. It was, however, the rather unexpected mention of that beard that the painter had so taken to grow that caused that simper to once again appear upon Sebastian' features, "I don't think that will be an issue." He offered, a soft chuckle reverberated in the depth of that accented tone. After all, as amused as he was with the notion alone, it was nearly impossible for the vampire to grow such a beard, his hair hardly given to any real growth at all, that body so needing life for what should have been a nearly rudimentary action and yet - even this was denied to him.

Regardless of that reminder of his corpse like figure, Sebastian was hardly perturbed in the slightest of manners. Instead, any further conversation of Leonardo seemed to have abruptly come to an end as Dorian's hand so reached out for his own. It was all too effortless, the way his fingers folded between Dorian's own and soon enough, the fae King was guiding them across that square and towards a large well lit building that had clearly captivated his attention. Sebastian's own gaze inquisitively eyed the walls of that gallery, following the King towards that desk only to glance briefly at that pamphlet they were so provided. He hardly expected, truly, for his title and his own last name to fall from the woman's lips, causing the man to glance upwards at her with a surely just as baffled expression upon his features. It was altogether a rarity that any knew of the man, at least in his frequent travels prior towards Dorian's existence within his life. He'd been foolish to think it possible to conduct any sort of business within the city so close to that palace unnoticed and within his own affinity in check. His lips parted before, quite unexpectedly, Dorian himself seemed quite keen to step in, affording him a false name and prospective job in a display of rather quick wit.

Sebastian offered the woman an almost apologetic simper, though what for remained a mystery even as he allowed Dorian to drag him through that gallery and towards a room that was, mostly, abandoned. His gaze traced the art upon those otherwise whitewash walls, the vampire hardly anticipating that inquiry that so came of which of those numerous paintings he so happened to favor. The question surely saw the man pause as he glanced over each of those paintings within that room. His free hand reached out to indicate one in particular. "I suppose that one is lovely." He commented simply, the man approaching it in the wake of his choice. The scene stained upon that canvas was entirely dedicated to the loveliness of those Italian hillsides beneath the glow of the full moon and yet, even that inspection of the art did not go without it's own peculiar set of curiosities. "Hm?" He inquired, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly before he leaned towards those flecks of color. After a moment's consideration, the vampire gingerly let a finger raise to the artwork, not quite touching that paint and yet, hovering in place well enough to show Dorian the one that had caught his attention. "I think I'm partial to this one." Sebastian paused before his gaze turned back towards the man at his side. "Why do you ask?" He dared to question and yet, that impish simper seemed to suggest that this was but another of Dorian's little ideas that so often left the man entirely in the dark

Sebastian Ellington