Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

Crowned Prince of Italy

An almost baffled look crossed the features of the Italian Prince at the very idea that the difference in colors had some ulterior motive. He had thought nothing of the silver blue hue upon their initial visit, that red associated easily with the colors of the Italian national flag. In fact, he had hardly considered that change at all until Dorian had inquired after his thoughts on the hue of the carpets. It was....intriguing, that blue was some sort of festive hue and red was...well, he was not sure what that crimson hue was supposed to represent. His eyebrows furrowed before the vampire shook his head ever so slightly. "You change...the carpets for the season?" Sebastian inquired as if seeking some sort of clarification before he continued. "Why...just the carpets? Why red?" After all, they could do so much more for those seasons! Dorian's affinity alone surely capable of assisting in such a fashion - from Garland in the winter to flowers in the summer. Decorating was, it would seem, an area the palace staff clearly lacked some ingenuity, though, he supposed after hundreds of years in solitude, there had been perhaps little reason to celebrate. It was almost heartbreaking to consider and yet, the undead vampire was determined to assist in breathing life back to the once stagnant palace.

His crystalline gaze shifted to the fae Monarch as that introspective glimpse crossed his lover's features. Sebastian watched as his husband's arms folded behind him, the fae falling back to those habits he so often did when his thoughts were all-encompassing. A small frown crossed his features and yet, the vampire hardly pressed the Monarch just yet, instead simply trailing behind him as the pair crossed the decorative marble floors to those thrones that so awaited them. The Prince paused at the very foot of those stairs, simply watching as Dorian took each step only to turn and collapse into the embrace of his throne in a wholly un-regal fashion. A small simper fluttered across his features as Dorian's head leaned against his palm in a brief glimpse of amusement. He was, admittedly, ignorant of that very memory that so seemed to flutter across the Monarch's thoughts, until his lover muttered of those years long since lost to time itself. Sebastian knew, naturally, of the way things had once been and yet, even in his own youth, the Monarchy had taken decidedly little interest in the affairs the blue-collared. Parliament had already existed for several hundreds of years, even if Queen Victoria still had held far more power than the present Queen Elizabeth.

He had little doubt that Dorian would be far better at such a role of being the people's King then his faux father ever had. History did not speak well of Ferdinand and his rule - the man largely forgettable were not for the atrocities he had committed upon his people. Sebastian hardly anticipated that almost impish look that quite abruptly crossed his lover's features. The man's desire for those years long past seemed quickly replaced with a far more pleasing thought. The vampire had, admittedly, hardly anticipated that role he was suddenly cast into and yet, for Dorian, he was more than willing to take up such antics. His own figure dropped easily into that well-practiced bow, surely showing his own pedigree if only for the multitude of times he had so brushed shoulders with the upper class in a way that the blue-collared would not have. The very sight of his husband's radiant grin surely made this all the more worth it as the vampire composed a riveting tale of his stolen sheep. That tale was made only further realistic, perhaps, as that prized sheep was given both a name and a demeanor all it's own in a way almost typical of the Victorian vampire.

A warm simper crossed his features, mirroring Dorian's own as the fae's speech so effortlessly returned to utilize that royal 'we' that Sebastian had so strived to break him from years ago. He watched as Dorian shifted back within his chair in an almost contemplative fashion. Sebastian enjoyed that look of amusement upon his husband's features. To see that warm grin on Dorian's face, that glimpse of happiness - it made everything worth it. His grin lingered upon his features as he watched the Monarch lift his fingers, pressing them together in a deliberate manner. Sebastian allowed that silence to linger - after all, to interrupt the thoughts of a King was unacceptable. Sebastian could hardly help the small laughter on his lips at the idea of his mock sheep trespassing on another individual's land. He tried to maintain some level of seriousness, however, that chuckle soon died as he attempted to regain that mock appearance of a concerned farmer - a facade he wholly failed at. Sebastian watched as his lover paused just before offering that very answer to the Englishman's 'conundrum'. Frankly, he was hardly surprised that his husband had gained some level of theatrics from his own father.

His crystalline gaze lingered upon the fit figure of the Italian King as Dorian rose from his throne, moving to stand before the vampire with but those stairs between them. Sebastian was hardly oblivious, at that moment, to how enamoring his lover was. That role of King somehow made him all the more alluring. Frankly, it still amazed him that, in spite of all those options Dorian had surely had, the fae had chosen him. Sebastian's chin rose ever so slightly as his ultramarine irises met the silver hue of Dorian's own. His head bobbed slowly at each option he was presented as if the vampire was truly considering how each choice might affect the outcome of his farm and his survival through the winter. Naturally, it was the last of those opportunities that was vastly more beneficial to all parties at large and yet, it was that assurance that the Monarch's generosity would not come without some price that caused his eyebrow to raise ever so slightly. "And what must I do, my King?" He inquired, eying that smirk that crept across Dorian's features all the more predominantly at the thoughts that clearly lingered upon his husband's mind.

It was his lover's announcement that the crown has found him attractive that prompted that laughter to spill richly from the Englishman. Oh, how many nights he had spent within those 'royal sheets' appeasing the fae Monarch! And how many more he so looked forward to indulging in! To think that his very efforts might result in the reward of a goat! It was, as far as Sebastian was concerned, hardly a difficult choice to make in the slightest, regardless of that faux game the pair both partook in. "Your Majesty is most generous." He started, pausing as if considering those very options before the Englishman continued. "I should think my sheep farm would benefit greatly with the addition of a goat, sire." He gestured lightly up the dais Dorian stood upon. "If I a may?" The vampire inquired, content, for the moment, to remain within that role he had been cast upon. Sebastian waited only as long as it took for the fae to grant him that permission to approach before he stepped up the stairs to join his lover. His hands reached out, settling on both sides of his lover's neck as his lips pressed sweetly against Dorian's own.

He stole several of those kisses from the fae Monarch before making some effort to deepen the last of them in the very fashion he knew his lover so tended to prefer. His hands slowly shifted away from that place upon Dorian's neck, his fingers trailing downwards to feel the hard plains of Dorian's chiseled chest beneath his touch. His caress continued further downwards still, brushing across the King's abdomen before tracing the hem of Dorian's pants. Gingerly, Sebastian pulled away from his husband's lips, his voice holding that same husky tone it so habitually did when his thoughts ventured to far more carnal matters. "Perhaps his Majesty might be willing to forgo his sheets today." The vampire muttered softly, his gaze briefly fluttered back towards his lover's throne as a thought so danced upon his very mind. He had, admittedly, rather enjoyed that rarely glimpsed authoritative side of his lover. It was surely sacrilegious, his desires within that moment and yet, such would not be the first time Sebastian had danced that very boundary of what was acceptable and what was so delightfully sinful.