His Royal Majesty

Dorian Ellington-Aragona

The King of Italy

It was almost curious really, the sheer amount of fascination Aiden so seemed to take in this notion of diplomatic immunity. Matteo, it appeared, had hardly taken the time to explain such an idea to his younger son. Dorian so momentarily left wondering why. After all, Matteo was usually so strikingly good at explaining those perks of any position, that status of immunity surely one of them and yet Aiden seemed to possess no knowledge of it at all until now. Why on earth would Matteo have kept something from him in that fashion? Dorian frowned but momentarily in that very consideration. Aiden was hardly a criminal was he? Was Matteo fearful that he might decide to test that immunity? Surely Aiden wouldn't, would he? Those momentary thoughts were interrupted by his siblings' sudden inquiry of the differences between their own immunities within countries outside of Italy. That very question only furthered that look of curious contemplation upon the Monarch's features. What an odd thing to query.

"Well, there would be very little difference truthfully. We would both be immune to arrest or persecution in any country. You're not going to commit a crime in another country are you?"

Aiden was offered a near pointed look then. Dorian so allowing one eye to raise in clear curiosity. Dorian so finding himself near...wary of his brother's motives at that moment. It would hardly do, after all, to have his own sibling caught up in some crime scandal! Just when the world had finally managed to forget about Matteo's rear end so being plastered across half the world's computer screens. Dorian was almost pleased for the distraction of those cars in that moment as he settled beside his sibling and Aiden so effortlessly piloted that car out of the garage and onto the wide, open road so cleared just for them. How glorious it was to travel with such speed! Dorian assured he had never been permitted to go nearly so fast as Aiden alone seemed content to allow. The Monarch distinctly enjoyed that drive. One made all the better by the sheer comfort of those Italian leather seats in his very own car. One day, surely, Sebastian might...permit him to learn to drive. The Monarch's insistence that he was rarely inclined to 'kid' was met with Aiden's agreement that he was equally prone to seriousness. How very consistent such a thing seemed with his sibling's personality and yet how pleasing it was to share but even one small trait with the man beside him. Aiden's efforts to bond with his sibling, it seemed, decidedly well received.

With the sheer speeds at which Aiden drove the pair were quick to find themselves amidst the city and its monuments. DOrian, in those fleeting moments, made every effort to point out those places of historical significance, agricultural brilliance and national pride. Aiden, he suspected, from the fashion in which his sibling seemed far more focused on the road- held truly little interest in such things and yet Dorian chose to explain them all the same if only for the chance Aiden might find intrigue in something. The road led out of the city and toward the ocean and harbours, that sparkling blue nothing short of near mesmerizing as it seemed to stretch out before them. The sight of Pompeii and the volcano that had brought it to ruin so readily prompted that tail from the Fae Kings lips. This story, in the very least, so managing to ensnare his siblings attention- tragic though that tale was. It was nothing short of baffling, Dorian was sure, to consider the world as it had once been so long ago- before even Dorian himself had been born! A world in which Matteo and Alexander had lived. The smallest of silences seemed to settle between the pair then as the car made its way back toward the city and the towering Palace Dorian called him. The walls of Caserta so easily dominated the skyline. That building was utterly unmissable even in a city which abounded with architectural grandeur. Dorian's query of those very things Aiden might enjoy doing during his time in Italy however seemed to prompt an entirely unexpected response from the Were King.

The frown upon Aiden's features was entirely missed. Dorian's own silver gae turned ahead before his siblings' near irritable tone suddenly filled the space within the car. Dorian, this time, quickly drawing his gaze toward Aiden now as the Were insisted he didn't care about views of bushes or buildings, much less making any effort to please him. Dorian's own gaze widened but slightly. A look of clear bafflement finding his features as Aiden fell silent once more. Had he somehow...offended him? Was offering his guest some sort of choice not deemed polite? Did Aiden not....want to stay with him? That silence, this time, so hardly held the comfort from before before Aiden at last seemed to break it once more as the car pulled slowly through those gates and into Caserta itself. His sibling's voice was, this time, less irritated. The Were so evidently making an effort to rectify his outburst and yet how such an effort only seemed to confuse the Monarch further! Aiden's efforts to clarify just what he had meant only seemed to further prompt that look of bafflement upon Dorian's own features. Aiden insisted he had hardly come to Italy to see those sights, rather, he had come to spend time with Dorian himself. How very....unused to such a thing the Monarch was. After all, so very few beings came to spend time with him. They came to have meetings. They came to speak about diplomacy or aid or policies or laws. They came to state dinners or functions. They did not come to ask him about himself or sit beside him on the sofa or discuss his favoured books. Sebastian was, perhaps, the only being outside of Matteo, Alexander- and now Aiden, whom ever spent time with him. Hmmm. Perhaps they had both misunderstood one another to some extent.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Aiden. You will have to forgive me to some extent though. I very rarely have people come to simply spend time with me. Almost all of my guests are, well, foreign dignitaries and those sorts of people who are here for work. I'm not used to people simply wanting to enjoy my company. For what it is worth though, outside of Sebastian, you might be the first person who has ever said they want to spend time with me."

Those words, it seemed, had meant something to the Monarch. Dorian allowed a ready simper to find his features all the same. The man so eternally good-natured in every sense. His brothers outburst, it seemed, easily forgiven in turn. Dorian took it upon himself to attempt to repair his own mannerisms and yet......how another thought so niggled at the very back of his mind. Aiden's irritation was....unusual. In more ways than one. Dorian, so ever-observant by nature alone- entirely inclined to consider but another curious thing somewhere within the depths of his mind. A consideration of sorts that so seemed to strike him all at once and yet he hardly chose to voice just yet. That car pulled easily into place outside the Palace doors then, those servants quick to rush forward and open the doors on their behalf before Dorian led the way up those steps and into Caserta itself. That glorious marble entrance hall spread about them in all directions, those shafts of natural light seemed to cast a glow atop the marble flooring. The grand staircase that led upstairs guarded by those magnificent stone lions. Dorian was, in every sense, rather proud of that hall. His inquiry as to what Aiden thought met with his brothers rather blunt insistence it was too 'stoney'. To stoney! That near sharp look Aiden was afforded was all but missed by the Were as Dorians own voice found a near exasperated tone then. The Fae quick to insist that marble was supposed to look stoney before leading the way up those stairs and towards the carpeted luxury rooms he was sure might at least appeal to Aiden more. This, Dorian was certain, was the first time anyone had ever.....disliked the way his Palace looked- or perhaps more truthfully- Aiden was the first being to ever suggest it out loud. His sibling quick to insist that was because Kings usually killed people who didn't agree with them.

"I have never killed anyone who did not agree with me although I cannot entirely insist you are wrong. Ferdinand, the man who played the part of my Father for my early life, made quite a habit of killing people for that reason- amongst others. I never did get on with him very well."

Dorian's own features frowned once more. The Monarch rarely inclined to speak of Ferdinand if only for those distinctly displeasing memories the man seemed to evoke. Aiden's sudden insistence that his Palace remained 'astoundingly creepy' managed to draw his thoughts away from the once-King and back toward the matter at hand. Aiden, this time, afforded another dubious look. Dorian led the way then toward that wing of his palace dedicated to Aiden's use alone. The Were afforded his own bedroom, bathroom, living room, parlour and a meeting room. Each of those rooms nothing short of gloriously opulent as so befitted anything belonging to the crown. Those windows afforded his sibling a view of the sun drenched gardens that carried on for miles and miles. Aiden, at least, so hardly seemed to find this room 'too stoney'. Dorian near assured his sibling seemed almost pleased with it. It was Aiden's early demand to spend time with him, however, that saw the Monarch hardly inclined to linger within that room. Rather, Dorian found himself eager to move toward his own garage. The Monarch assured he had an idea- one of the very sort that near demanded he rty it out. Aiden, with his love for those cars, sure to take pleasure in that idea in turn. His sibling was quick to assure him he had no other plan for the afternoon as Dorian moved to head back toward the apartment door, his hand waving lightly for Aiden to follow as the pair headed down from those royal apartments and toward the main staircase. Dorain, this time, content to travel further and further downward.

Several staff members bowed to the pair as they passed, Dorian content to lead Aiden into the veritable basement of the palace- if it could be called such a thing. The Monarch made several turns down several underground corridors before at last reaching a decidedly non-descript door that opened easily at his touch. That door opened into the very garage Dorian had mentioned. That space the size of a veritable airport hanger! Rows upon rows of black town cars lined either side of that space, several of them being attended to by those royal mechanics. Further on down that seemingly never-ending space a series of decidedly vintage cars sat, the very kind lost to time themselves and yet remain in noteworthy condition. Dorian himself never truly had held much interest in such machines. The car Matteo had given Sebastian and himself, that gleaming Maseratti, rested toward the end of the line. Such a car so always having been one of Dorians more favoured. Several carriages and coaches rested toward the rear beside that fully functional mechanics work and service shop. That fleet of royal vehicles kept in immaculate condition. The very last vehicle resting at the far end of that garage was a decidedly impressive looking tank. One Dorian had taken great interest in examining over the years. The Monarch's presence within the garage seemed to prompt a response from those workers. Those men were quick to put down their tools, each of them turning to bow readily toward the Monarch and his sibling before the head mechanic hurried over. Your Majesty, might we assist you with something?

"Yes, thank you. I would like to have this space for myself this afternoon."
Of course, Your Majesty.

If that mechanic had found his King's response unusual he so hardly showed it. The man instead gave a brisk clap of his hands. Those workers obediently filed out of that hanger. Dorian and Aiden left alone within that enormous garage. That entire workshop at their disposal. A ready grin found Dorian's lips then.

"Feel free to look about. Frankly I have little idea what most of these mechanical things are, let alone what they do. I merely needed a large space for my idea."

Dorian moved to stride down that garage then, his footsteps echoing atop that polished concrete as he headed for a large open space of floor beside that military tank. The Monarch reached to pull his favoured white pastel from his back pocket before abruptly crouching down to begin to draw neatly atop the concrete.

"Over there, near the mechanics stations, there is an entire shelf of books. There is one about engines. Could you pass it to me, Aiden?"

Dorian glanced briefly toward his sibling once more, offering the man another polite smile before returning readily to his work with due diligence. His mind, in those moments, was inclined to wander. Dorian once more left to consideri Aiden's obscure actions within the car. His brother's irritation was so hardly the first obscurity he had witnessed. Indeed when he had first invited Aiden to come with him the Panther had appeared almost.....wary of the idea, looking to Matteo, of all people, for not only guidance but what had seemed like permission. Aiden so hardly seemed the sort of man whom needed protection in any sense, especially not from Matteo and yet Dorian had long since given up attempting to understand his Father and Brother's relationship. The pair were so very close and yet so very guarded when it came to one another. It was altogether baffling. Matteo had stressed to him, over and over that Aiden could be difficult to not only get along with, but to understand. Dorian only now truly beginning to appreciate that notion. Aiden had been....a little stressed about that trip to begin with, he had seemed a little overwhelmed on several occasions since that flight, almost fearful of a flight attendant trying to put a napkin on his lap, irritable at being asked what he wanted to do. In fact Aiden seemed distinctly....distressed about being asked to make certain kinds of....

"Oh! It's choices!"

Those very words left the Monarch's lips quote before he so realised he had uttered them. Dorian quickly closed his mouth once more before glancing toward his sibling. Aiden, no doubt, sure to be staring at him curiously in turn.

"Ah, sorry, I talk to myself when I draw sometimes. There are so many choices to be made with drawing. Did you find the engine book? It has very good pictures in it. I'm not sure what engine to use though. How much horsepower do you think we need?"

How very effortlessly the Monarch so moved beyond his own outburst. Dorian so having deduced that his sibling struggled....to some extent.....in being asked to make too many choices. Dorian assured that such a conclusion required far deeper thought, after all, such a thing might be incorrect and yet that very conclusion made at least some sense, he was certain. Dorian, so very, very slowly- beginning to make an effort to understand the sibling he had desired to have in his life for so very long.