Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

His Royal Highness, Prince of Italy

The Prince's return from his honeymoon did not come without its fair share of work awaiting him. With his recent ascension to the Italian throne, Sebastian had found himself taking up the mantle of all those affairs Dorian either struggled to comprehend or simply didn't have the time to properly oversee. Presently, such resulted in a near plethora of papers spread across his desk with the names, job position, and wages of every single individual the Crown employed. The sheer number of which had resulted in near days of converting gold coin to euros and copious amount of research into the present job market to ensure each and every individual's income was brought up to standard with the modern era. It had become a particularly taxing affair of late, leaving Sebastian with his head leaning against his palm and an only half drunk, now lukewarm cup of tea in front of him. He hardly noticed when Prescott's head rose, the small bridle puppy bounding out of the office with clear intrigue in something else. In fact, it wasn't until Maxwell suddenly jerked his head upward from his rather tranquil dozing that the vampire's azure gaze glanced upwards.

That low growl in the back of the dog's throat caused Sebastian's eyebrows to furrow. "Maxwell, what is it?" He inquired as if searching for some sort of response from the older dog. The rottweiler's ear twitched as he stared out of the office door, only to rise to his feet moments afterward. A soft sigh left Sebastian's lips as he placed his pen down. He supposed, truly, he could use the break. Besides, with Charles otherwise occupied with the full moon, there was precious little standing in the way of any threat and Dorian beyond himself. "Let's go look." The Englishman muttered as he rose from his own desk. His very accompaniment seemed enough to prompt Maxwell to move, the Rottweiler altogether content to lead the way to that very thing that had so captured his attention. The last thing Sebastian had anticipated to see as he strode downstairs and around the corner to the kitchen, was the petite figure of his maker settled on the ground with their young puppy in front of her staring at the sweets within her hands. For a moment, Sebastian merely stood there, baffled by her sudden appearance before his bright blue eyes shifted towards the tea cookie in her fingers. "Don't feed him too many, he'll get a stomach ache." The vampire uttered with a small, albeit warm, simper upon his features.

His hand reached down, ruffling the fur on top of Maxwell's head. His own almost placid nature in that moment so easily informed the Rottweiler that their unexpected intruder was, perhaps, a friend. Prescott, he was sure, was still too young for those protective instincts to flare, at least, for now. "Did you have a nice time in Italy, Ma Petite? Or was there something else you needed tonight?" Sebastian inquired, his own decided distance from the girl often resulted in her appearance within his life only when she deemed it necessary. In the whirlwind of his own marriage and their honeymoon afterwards, he had admittedly forgotten his promise to gift the youthful girl that cell phone, even though both it and it's sparkly case had arrived in his absence. The package sitting on his desk amongst all the accounting affairs of the Crown that had largely occupied the vampire.