Dorian AragonaHis Royal Highness

How pleasing it was to see the woman relax, to see her enjoy that touch of her magic. Dorian assured he vastly preferred her company in these moments in which she was not so terribly guarded and yet perhaps, the same could be said for himself. Dorian hardly oblivious to the idea that he was, at time, difficult to get to know in turn and yet the reasons for his own more guarded nature on those personal affairs had little to do with nay past trauma and far more with that world he was raised within. Manners mattered. In every situation. Personal talk was never encouraged and as such the King had become almost masterful at affording others very little information about himself, at least, until he knew them well enough to deem them deserving of it- in a fashion. He was private he supposed and yet here and now he found himself willing to offer the young witch some knowledge off him in the least- if only to help her own insecurities. The man pausing a moment in that consideration.

"Each of my abilities is different. Each I learned to wield differently. Some were almost innate- they came so naturally that it was not control I struggled with so much as learning limits. I am curious by nature I fear, I am inclined to test things over and over. Other abilities took several months before I felt competent and nearly a year before I could wield them with true efficiency. There is no shaming in learning slowly though. Something done with care is always better then something rushed. Even learning."

He allowed that smile to touch his lips once more, the man affording her no information on his other affinities, after all, he hardly saw the need and off his skill with life itself their were but two individuals within the entirety of the city whom understood such a gift and indeed the importance of so keeping its secret. Those affinities, after all, were often personal things. Dorian in turn inclined to share that which he had learned Vhalla's magic with no other. The mention of food seeing his silver-gaze return to her with some measure of curiosity, the faintest of chuckles upon his lips at her query, his shoulders lifting in a gentle shrug.

"How is it that I never age? I am over 500 years old and yet I hardly look older then twenty two. My body, it seems, functions on something other then time and food as a mortal one does. It is a different energy I suppose, one beyond my knowleege that I have never truly considered. I used to eat three meals a day when my mortal family lived. After they died it became apparent to me this was a human trait and I simply....lost interest in eating so often. Within my day the foods were far less exciting too."

He hardly wished to distress her with his full history or indeed the truth of the horros of those things he had seen when so confined to his palace and forced into the same routine day after day. Dorian so having lost the will to eat rather then merely giving it up and yet such dark times hardly dwelled within his thoughts long as his features frowned further in consideration. The glare in her gaze hardly missed at that mention of Sebastian and yet he hardly pressed her on it.

"Some foods I am curious off. I often choose to try something merely to taste it. I have learned that I enjoy pizza, fish and chips- with salt and beef wellington. I do not like Brussel-sprouts or pop tarts at all! I do not desire them because I am hungry though, no, I merely try them if I am curious. I still enjoy the taste as any being does. Sebastian showed me candy- I like candy."

He had never truly forgiven Samantha for attempting to force feed him a Pop Tart. A veritable sin of creation he was sure. The man frowning at even the thought before Vhalla asked to see those dark blades. It was with no small amount of hesitation that he summoned them for her from his place on the grass- allowing her to examine them, turning that tempered shadow over to allow the assassin a proper view before allowing them to dissipate into whatever oblivion they came from. His head bobbed simply at her admission they were surely useful, the man considering her idea that they surely never used their powers to their fullest extent. Dorian, in truth, hardly desiring to see the full force of several off his own gifts. The witch admitting then, a moment later, to having taken out much of a part of the city in a firestorm out of her control. It was automatic, really, the way the Fae so reached forward to rest his hand on her own in some effort to...comfort her, he supposed, the man understanding that such a thing was, perhaps, not entirely her fault and yet her notion of starving herself was met with a shake of his head.

"Starving yourself would only weaken you- not your magic. At best you might render yourself unconscious if you were to use too much and yet your weakness might make you unable to control the strength of that burst at all. You will master this in time, darling. You need not bring yourself harm to do it though. Control is the key. Do you wish to practice further or shall we go back inside?"