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

It was a decidedly warm evening, even despite that autumn season. Dorian wholly content to make the most of it as he reclined upon that poolside chair, the Fae having removed his shirt to leave only his jeans and the laptop that rested upon his legs as his fingers lightly brushed across that touchpad. His utter inability to swim, despite Sebastian's assurance he could surely stand in the shallow end, had seen the Fae merely take up a position as close to his lover as possible while managing to remain dry. Dorian content to glance upward from that screen every few moments if only to make sure Sebastian was still entirely alive while he swam all the same. The vampires ability to float about on his back if he chose so entirely intriguing to the man. Dorian assured that he himself would do nothing short of sink. The Fae merely content to accept that this was another of Sebastian's talents he may never emulate. His silvery gaze lifted away from that screen once more, the Monarch so briefly eyeing that exquisite beauty that was Chambord, Matteo so kindly having lent it to them for the week while making himself fortunately scarce. In all those years he had never known his Father owned such an exquisite home, the mansion very near akin to one of his own palaces. Dorian having become lost within its rooms on several occasions, those gardens in turn expanding for miles and surrounded by that countryside and those quaint farms. France, he had decided, had a charm all its own. A decided pleasantness. Sebastian himself seeming utterly taken with the French architecture and several abandoned chateau's they had come across some nights ago on that exploration of the countryside. His lover's inability to allow things to exist in a state of disrepair seeming to have afflicted him in near full force. Dorian mostly assured they were surely about to own at least one of those abandoned homes if his fiancé had his way.

His fingers shifted but slightly in mere consideration of that title alone, the Monarch so having come to delight in the feel of that newfound ring upon his finger. Dorian unable to prevent that grin that seemed to find his features each and every time he felt it. This, he was assured, in all his life, by far the happiest he had ever been- even despite the utter madness of Italy. That announcement of their engagement had been more then merely well-received by his own Palace. So many of its staff, after all, had spent over five hundred years in his company in a world unmoving and unchanging. A royal engagement was by far the most exciting thing in the entirety of their lives. The very air of the Palace itself having shifted into one of simple delight and celebration. A secret they had managed to keep for some days until that more official announcement to Italy and the world at large so needed to be made. What had been an interest in the pair prior to their engagement had somehow turned into an utter circus in the hours that had followed it. The Palace positively surrounded by paparazzi seemingly within minutes. Those requests for interviews and photographs and near any detail the Palace or the couple themselves might provide had come thick and fast until it had become utterly and simply impossible for himself or Sebastian to leave the Palace at all. Dorian's affinity for invisibility entirely well utilised in those days afterward to sneak them from that very Palace and out of Italy itself. None outside of his own higher order staff, Matteo and Charles and Elizabeth aware of their location in France at all. Dorian relishing that peace and quiet even if it was surely unable to last. After all, how long would it truly take that Press to realise they were waiting outside the wrong gates?

"Mon Cher, we shall need to get ready shortly if we are going to be on time."

His attention shifted to his lover once more, that simper tugging softly at his lips. Dorian having been decidedly vague about just where he intended to take Sebastian this evening in some effort to make the most of their continued anonymity here while it lasted. The Monarch wholly determined to surprise his lover this evening with several activities he was assured the vampire might enjoy. Engaged or otherwise there was, Dorian was assured, still dates to be had. His own form shifted then, the Monarch easing himself upward from that pool lounge as he waited for Sebastian to climb from that pool itself, the Fae holding out that towel for him before taking several steps backward and out of his reach. Dorian so hardly trusting his lover not to mischievously attempt to hug him and soak him in turn as he had already managed once before. It was the sudden chiming of that computer then that so returned his attention to it. The Fae near assured he had mastered the basic use of the device even if he frequently required Sebastian to rescue him from webpages that attempted to imprison him. Skype, in the least, was a function the Monarch understood as he picked up that laptop then. Elizabeth so appearing on that screen a moment later as they begun that walk back up to the house.

"Good evening, Elizabeth. How did the evening go?"

It was entirely silly, he knew and yet Dorian had so insisted upon desiring to know just how Maxwell's first evening at that training class had gone. The very idea of Puppy School was entirely absurd in itself he was sure and yet a part of the Monarch so simply refused to accept that small canine Sebastian had brought home for them would be anything less than exceptional in any class he undertook. Elizabeth paused for a moment then, proceeding to pick up that squirming puppy only to hold him up to that screen, that grin of delight finding Dorian's own features in turn as he angled that screen for Sebastian to view too. Elizabeth proceeding to assure them both he had done well, for the most part, even if he had proven to be apparently somewhat distracted by a young female Dalmatian throughout that lesson on 'stay'. Dorian affording that woman his thanks before closing that laptop now. His gaze lifting to his lover then, those words entirely teasing.

"I am not assured if I am proud of him or not. I am impressed he has discovered women, less so that he is apparently throwing himself at them. We might have to work on his decorum."

That soft chuckle hummed softly from his lips then, his fingers threading through his lovers own. Dorian content to lead the way into that decidedly grand marble entrance hall and toward that staircase that led to those guest bedrooms upstairs. The Fae having yet to explore that house in full. The sheer amount of rooms making such a task decidedly imposing. A part of the man almost curious to find which room was Matteo's own even if he had little intention of entering it. How curious it had been to see those few photographs and small, personal affects about that home. Matteo, after all, so rarely spoke of his private life in any sense. Dorian himself far too well-mannered to inquire even despite those questions he held. That laptop was placed gently on that bed then, Dorian pressing his lips to his lovers cheek in that stolen moment of affection before at last releasing the man's hand to allow him to get dressed, Dorian searching for his own shirt in turn.

"I think perhaps you should pack another small bag too, I thought we might stay somewhere else this evening after I take you out."

That almost impish grin returned to his features then, Dorian affording his lover that almost knowing look as he returned to attempting to button that shirt.

"Have you tried walking into the wardrobe yet, Bastian? It lights up with every step you take and the lights change colors every time you go in. I've no idea why Matteo has these things but they are amusing if nothing else. I went into the pantry in the kitchen this morning- it plays music."

dorian aragona