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

That wholly casual manner in which his lover so greeted that housekeeper as she appeared upon the laptop screen so had a way of stealing that simper to his own lips once more. That subtle shift in those formalities assuring the Fae of Sebastian's own decidedly good mood- not that he had believed for even a moment his lover was in any fashion displeased. Those past few days away from those crowds and cameras and prying questions had been utterly heavenly. Dorian so having come to decide that he liked France. The country, the people, the architecture and even the food appealed to him. The Monarch quite assured he would be remiss to leave it when the time came. Dorian not at all opposed to that idea he so knew Sebastian to be toying with over buying one of those chateaus to repair and make liveable. The man rather content to spend more time in the country itself, such thoughts briefly cast aside as Elizabeth held that squirming puppy up to the screen. Maxwell as entirely energetic and enthusiastic as he had always been. Dorian unable to stop that smile from finding his lips, how unfortunate that they had missed his first class! Even if the puppy had somewhat failed to master his lessons on his first attempt- largely due to his distraction by a spotted woman. Dorian assured he would succeed next time. The amusement off it hardly lost on the man as he closed that laptop down, those teasing tones offered readily to his fiancé then. Sebastian's assurance that he was merely a puppy and that no man was truly successful on his first attempts to woo anyone was met with a soft, playful roll of his own eyes. That query as to whether or not he remembered the first time he himself had attempted to woo a woman was met with a momentary look of contemplation before that soft chuckle rose from within him. His gaze meeting Sebastian's own then.

"I fear that is one of the few things I wish I could forget. Right along with the first time I ever bedded a woman- unfortunately I fear it was also the same woman. I'm sure at the time I thought it was a rather pleasant evening, all two minutes of it. Now I'm rather sure I owe her an apology for the whole affair."

That almost sheepish look so had a habit of finding his features then. Dorian willing enough to admit to those failings of some five hundred years ago. Heavens but it had been centuries since he had thought of that at all! With decidedly good reason he was assured. That a series of firsts that was surely better left within those pages of history if only for how abysmally he had performed in either area. Wooing, he supposed, did require a certain amount of tact. One Maxwell could be forgiven for not yet having mastered. His hand so easily entwined with Sebastian's own then, leading the way up that glorious marble staircase and into that bedroom that had been assigned to them. The laptop was placed easily on the bed beside Sebastian's towel, Dorian shifting to allow his lips to press to the vampire's cheek in that simple touch of affection before busying himself with a search for the shirt he desired. That utter adoration and simple lust for his lover hardly having diminished in all that time. That very engagement itself somehow having, impossibly, increased his love for his Consort all the more. That warmth seeming to embrace the entirety of his chest near each time his gaze rested upon the man he was set to marry. How the very presence of that ring so delighted him each and every day! Sebastian's gentle murmur that such plans sounded like fun were met with that warm simper then before the Fae King gestured to that wardrobe his lover stood upon the precipice off. Dorian having spent the better part of yesterday evening while Sebastian showered with observing those odd lights with their changing colours and patterns.

That soft chuckle rose from within his throat once more, the silver of his gaze lingering upon the vampire as Sebastian stepped in and out of that wardrobe several times, those lights flaring to life only to fade once more as Sebastian stepped back out. Each time the vampire stepped back in readily seeing those lights change to a new shade. Sebastian at last seeming to settle on that dark blue before wandering into the depths of that wardrobe to find his shirt as Dorian sat himself upon the edge of the bed in an effort to pull his shoes and socks into place, the Fae commenting lightly upon that equally baffling pantry he had found downstairs. That query as to why they existed prompting that soft shrug of Dorian's own shoulders.

"Perhaps his kitchen staff enjoy listening to music while they work? It terrified me the first time I opened the door though. It was a song I've never heard before either, it was rather loud and I'm not at all assured I followed the story but it was about a city that was built on rocks and rolls. Rolls of what I've no idea."

That entirely puzzled look continued to linger on his features then as those shoes were pulled into place. Dorian glancing upward at last as Sebastian strode from that wardrobe his gaze lingering briefly upon the vampire's decidedly pleasing physique and those buttons so purposefully left undone. How entirely tempting he was! That idle comment on that nature of Matteo's baffling personality briefly distracting his thoughts as his own head merely shook.

"Frankly, if he only baffles you sometimes you are doing better than I am. He quite baffles me near all the time. I almost worry to open any of the drawers or cupboards lest they do something unexpected. Are you ready?"

That simper so readily returned to his lips in the wake of that inquiry. Dorian content to lead the way once more from that bedroom and back into the hall. Matteo's own manservant, Hugo, stepping forward to meet them then. The elderly gentleman affording them each a bow in turn even despite Dorian's assurance, several times, that it was hardly necessary in any sense. The car should be ready in ten minutes or so, we have a rear driveway that will attract far less attention to exit from and it is my recommendation that you should do just that. If you head down stairs and follow the main hall you will find a door on your right that will lead outside. The Monarch's head nodded readily then, Dorian affording Hugo that word of thanks before heading for that grand staircase that led down into the foyer and the main hall. The man paused abruptly then at the sight of the hallway before them. No less than seven doors situated on their right. Dorian commenting softly then;

"I fear his directions might have been a little lacking."

It was decidedly impolite to so go about prying through the home of another and yet how on earth they were supposed to find their way outside he hardly knew, that frown settling softly upon his features before the Fae King moved to open that first door- only to be met with what was quite clearly a linen closet. One that, fortunately, did not play any sort of music. It was, in the least, one less door to open. Dorian leaving Sebastian then to examine that second one as he himself progressed to the third. This room possessing a rather large pool table among a myriad of other games. How very unsurprising such a room was. The Monarch moving to another door then, those lights softly illuminating that darkened space the moment it was opened. This room was decidedly large, those sweeping double bay windows, though shut and drawn behind white lace curtains, surely afforded it a glorious light within the day. Those white walls offered it a pleasant brightness even at night, those large white lounges situated in the centre around that polished mahogany coffee table equally as alluring and yet it was most noticeably those rows of shelves and cabinets and display cases that so readily captured his attention.

"Bastian? I've quite found....something."

Dorian allowed himself to step further within that room then, his silver gaze drifting easily about that space before resting upon a row of shelves that held a considerable amount of framed photographs. Some were coloured and yet some were so very dated they were no more than black and white. Matteo himself featured in a number of them, even Dorian given to recognise several of those historical figures pictured with him. Kings and Queens long gone, politicians, several celebrities and yet the only being whom appeared in near as many photos as Matteo himself- was Alexander. This very room, it appeared, something of a collection of Matteo's life itself. His fingers reached briefly for one photograph then, Dorian aware of Sebastian coming to rest beside him, the Monarch holding that photograph to allow his lover to see it in turn. Matteo and Alexander pictured with their arms about one another's shoulders. Dorian wholly assured this was one of the few times he had seen his Godfather smile, his gaze narrowed slightly to read that inscription upon it.

"Calvary Troop Commander, A. Macedonia and Second in Command, M. Deveraux. Battle of Beersheba, 1917. I wonder how many battle's they have fought?"

His own readings of history had hardly brought him this far just yet, such a battle hardly known to him, his gaze lingering on those horses pictured just behind the two men before that photograph was carefully returned to it's place upon the shelf and nestled among a myriad of others. Dorian's lips parting then to comment upon the rows of photo albums beneath, each labelled upon its spine with a year, before his gaze so fell upon that singular and only painted portrait within the room. That style and colour assuring him readily of just how old that portrait was. After all, pieces of a similar age decorated his own palace halls. This one exquisitely framed in that golden frame and so given pride of place on that wall it hung on. It had been...centuries since he had seen such a picture as that. The Fae moving to stand before it then. That painting depicting what was clearly Matteo himself and yet....a younger looking Matteo, standing behind an equally young looking woman as she lent lovingly into him. The pair atop a balcony of sorts, his hands resting on her waist. Dorian's fingers extending upward then to run along that golden frame, those soft words holding that ready touch of emotion then. His gaze glancing briefly back to his lover.

"I have never seen this portrait before, I never knew it existed. That is my Mother."

dorian aragona