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

It was curious perhaps, that idea of how something so mundane as a need to shave ones face, an everyday need for some men, had never truly occurred to him to consider the lack off upon his companion. Even Dorian himself, every few days in the least, set about that arduous routine of assuring his face looked entirely smooth. It was but one glorious modern convenience the Fae had wholeheartedly taken up even if he was distinctly unskilful at it. Though with only Samantha alone to attempt to explain modern razors to him the process had perhaps always been doomed from the beginning and yet, with each passing attempt, Dorian only found he improved. The Fae King fortunate in that he wholly lacked the ability to grow a beard at all, even if he had desired it and yet this so hardly stopped the man from near demanding his companion cease to allow it in turn. That beared Leonardo spotted stirring little more then a scowl to his features. It made him look so old! Dorian assured his once-lover would have looked at least a little younger without it. That soft utterance from Sebastian returned his attention to the vampire in full. Dorian's curiosity as to why he had never seen the man shave even once met with perhaps a wholly logical answer he had so failed to consider. It was distinctly true, after all, that Dorian so simply often forgot off his lovers state of death. He had become used to the man's cooler skin and their nocturnal schedule, these thing simply accepted as 'Sebastian' until they had become nothing short of normal. That understanding so seeming to alight his features then. Ah, but it was so obvious! That almost playful wink he was provided with merely returned with a teasing shake off his own head.

"Ah, I see, yes- this makes sense."

It was a simple matter then to lead his lover away from the monument and towards but one of the open buildings within the square. Dorian quick to usher them both past the woman within the centre, brushing off her query as if it were but an everyday occurrence that had become a bother to what was no more than a pair of tourists within the city. The Monarch entirely curious as to why Sebastian appeared so surprised at having been recognised at all. Had his lover no idea, truly, of just how famous they had become? His thoughts upon the matter hardly lasted long however, Dorian leading the way into an empty galleria, this one filled with those expressionist paintings and several of the landscapes about Milan itself. It was surely this notion of paintings that so prompted the man's next words, that ever-impish grin adorning his features as an idea of sorts took hold. Dorian so eternally content to subject the vampire to each and every one of those glorious ideas that so seemed to seize him on a daily basis. Sebastian one of the few whom seemed wholly willing to allow him these explorations in life. The world, as a whole, was still but gloriously wonderful to the King. Sebastian, ever-patient, content to follow him through it. That wariness that so seemed to afflict his consort any time Dorian announced one of his ideas was hardly missed and yet his lover made no effort to prevent his scribbling upon those walls as the Monarch had held some concern he may in an effort to preserve the sanctity of that ancient and yet public space. Sebastian, tonight, seeming wholly trusting in his lovers intent.

It was only once that chosen poppy had been carefully crafted upon the wall and coloured to match the painting it had been crafted from that the Fae so moved to step back just so- eyeing his work momentarily before reaching forward to summon that affinity in full. Dorian ever so carefully plucking that flower from the wall until it stood as real and three-dimensional as any flower ever had. His hand held it softly by the stem as he offered it to his bemused boyfriend to take. The silver of his gaze seeking that blue of his lovers own if only to see just how the vampire might take this display of his affinity. The soft utterance of its brilliance so readily saw that smile dance upon his lips as both men, in turn, paused to touch those petals in some desire to inspect that texture. It was foolish really, that he might seek Sebastian's approval in even this and yet the vampires thoughts, upon all things, mattered far more desperately to the Monarch then he would surely ever admit. Even this soft assurance entirely enough to delight the man. Dorian paused but a moment in that evaluation then, leaning gently away from that crafted flower to offer Sebastian that tale of just how such an affinity had come about. The utter silliness of such a thing was hardly lost upon him. After all, off all he might have drawn or crafted for himself, of the wealth he might have added or the foods he might have tried it was but a single desire that had afflicted him. To bring home those English flowers is only because his boyfriend might like them.

That soft press of lips to his forehead so saw that warm simper return to his features, his heart given to flutter unevenly for even just a beat at those words. Ah, but if only Sebastian knew how often he thought of him! Dorian wholly relishing that sudden moment of intimacy they had found themselves within. Those impossibly sweet words so rarely said and yet so undeniably true so falling from his lovers lips seemed to afflict him with that emotion as they had done the first time and the time after that and that. Dorian assured he might never tire of hearing them. How much they meant, even now! The briefest of glances was given to that door behind them before Dorian shifted just so as to allow his lips to press to his Consorts own- stealing that kiss from him right there in that gallery in Milan- that gesture holding every bit of love in return before he moved to lean but softly away at last.

"Come on, there are but one or two other things I should like to see tonight, then we might head home."

The Monarch paused on several more of those floors to eye those paintings before leading the way back onto the street. Dorian examining that Opera House and the gardens that surrounded before so discovering that path to the harbour and so insisting they walk along it so he might see those boats. It was Sebastian whom had so suggested he try that traditional Italian gelato from the street seller by the docks. Dorian entirely taken aback by how cold it was, the Monarch assured he should cease to order anything made of chocolate if only for the realisation that his lover seemed unable to resist it. Dorian assured Sebastian had eaten most far more than his designated half. The pair wandering then to that towering cathedral where Napoleon had once crowned himself. Dorian paused upon those steps to point across and towards another area of the city in the distance, pointing out the province of Turin and his own palace there before at last making their way back to the car. It had not occurred to the Monarch how they might drive back into the Palace from such an evening when it was reported that they had not left it at all. Those photographers veritably surrounding the car the moment it appeared until his own guards at the gate were forced to clear a path to allow Sebastian to drive at all. Those gates so thankfully closed behind them as he directed Sebastian back to those front steps.

Benito had worked himself into such a state of anxiety over their unannounced absence that Geoffrey had been summoned from bed once more to attend to him. Benito managing still to request they took security next time. The President had left some hours ago, veritably storming out when presented with no more than that signed declaration Dorian had ordered sent to him in place of the Fae's actual presence. The man ill content, it had seemed, with the Monarch's decision on this and yet for this evening at least, Dorian held little care as he led the way back up to their apartment. The warmth of those rooms a welcome embrace as the doors were opened for them and closed behind. Dorian making his way into that parlour only to find Matteo so reclined upon the couch within, partaking of that tea and coffee he was assured had been left for Sebastian and himself alone. How did you like your evening then? Did you find the place? The Elder Fae queried, looking briefly over the rim off those ever-present sunglass as Dorian eased himself onto that couch beside Sebastian. Matteo sipping at his coffee all the same. Dorian assured he had never seen the man even remotely anything other than relaxed.

"Yes, we found it. I was rather taken aback by Leonardo's age though. It is logical I suppose and yet I had not considered it. Foolish of me- really."

Dorian so admitted, that soft chuckle of amusement at his own daftness humming from within his throat. Matteo too, appearing amused at the idea as the Frenchman eased himself upward into a sitting position, draining those last few drops of his coffee before regarding the pair before him. I'm pleased you enjoyed the evening and that my car suffered no damage. You were right, Sebastian, a little trust hardly hurt. That soft grin touched the elder man's lips a moment before he waved his hand towards that reception room. It seems to me it is after midnight and thereby it is Christmas in your country, Dorian. I have something for you both before I go. Sebastian first I think.... The surprise that so lingered upon the Monarch's features was entirely clear as he rose to follow Matteo as he stood, leading the way into that reception room. Dorian's gaze so immediately falling on that piano and yet- it was truly far from that dusty relic that had lingered within his basement. The Piano that stood before them now was....beyond compare, so perfectly restored in every sense, its surfaced so polished it shone. Even Dorian inclined to stare towards it with some measure of awe. His fingers lightly tracing the surface as his gaze turned to linger on the vampire as Matteo spoke. It will need tuning I fear, but that is better done by the hand that intends to play it. My own skills on this instrument are lacking. Either way, Bernard is in perfect working order now.

dorian aragona