That evening had been nothing short of a disaster. In every possible fashion. Indeed, Dorian could hardly remember any sort of event having gone worse in nearly all his life save for the very evening in which his Palace and family had fallen beneath the curse of the Witch who had seen to his veritable centuries-long imprisonment. A distinct sense of unease had settled within the Monarch's chest as he moved to show Brennan and Serafina to the door. The front part of the house, by some miracle, had been spared much of the destruction of the music room and its adjoining walls. Such repairs would take weeks to fix and yet it was so hardly the very walls Dorian felt any sense of loss over. Those instruments themselves were of far more value then any mere walls had been. That value was as much monetary as it surely had been sentimental. Sebastian, in particular, was distinctly prone to handling those loss of those inanimate objects poorly. Especially those he was fond of. For several long moments the Fae King so merely lent back agianst that closed front door. The sounds of Brennan and Serafina as they hurried down the drive had long since faded before the Monarch made any effort to move. How tragic the loss of those instruments was- how keenly he felt it and yet....that destruction was so hardly the very worry that niggled at the forefront of his thoughts.

To see his brother, even in spectral form had been nothing short of shocking. That rage and disdain Alfonso had felt for him, even in death, was near akin to a cut agianst his skin all over again. How hotly he had felt that impassioned hate. It was almost as if he had been a child before his elder half sibling once more! Unable to break free of that veritable torment and yet- for all Alfonso had shouted and screamed- even his ghost had not managed to shake Dorian so thoroughly as...Isabella had. How horrifically tangled his own emotions were about that ghostly wisp of a woman who had, in mere moments, seemed to ensnare all of Sebastian's attention in a fashion Dorian had never quite seen before. There was surely no excusing his having thrown a knife at that ghost, that very act having been brought on by pure terror at an unknown entity and yet Dorian could hardly recall a time in which Sebastian had ever responded to him in such a fashion. Let alone the very notion in which the vampire had not.....chosen him. In that singular moment of horrified panic and veritable unknown Sebastian had gone after his wife. Dorian himself having been left alone within that room. Sebastian had chosen her. Perhaps the vampire had hardly meant such a thing. Perhaps Sebastian had simply not been thinking- after all- he could hardly be blamed for chasing after that ghostly woman when surely there was still so much unsaid between them and yet, somehow, Dorian could so hardly prevent that dull, uncomfortable ache that had settled within him at even the mere thought. That moment so continuing to play within his mind over and over.

A soft and yet no less heavy sigh so at last managed to leave the Monarch's lips as Dorian leaned away from that door, the man making his way slowly back through their home and toward the music room. Though whether he intended to survey that damage, attempt to repair it, or to comfort his husband he hardly knew. Those emotions that all but eclipsed his mind so hardly seemed capable of settling upon any one feeling. Confusion, displeasure, sadness, hurt, anger, fear and a rather undeniable sense of jealousy- no matter how ungracious the feeling- seemed to twist unsteadily within him to form a distinctly uncomfortable knot that settled like a weight within his chest. Dorian, in that moment, was near assured even his own footsteps felt too loud upon the floor. Sebastian had surely heard him coming by now. That very knowledge prevented the Monarch from pausing any further. Dorian lingered only briefly within the doorway. The sheer sight of that destruction so momentarily prompted his gaze to widen before one hand lifted to run through his hair in a vague sign of that stress that lingered beneath. That demon had destroyed far more than Dorian had truly noticed within the midst of that chaos.

The Monarch stepped forward and into that room then. That shattered piano at Sebastian's knees readily prompted Dorian's own hand to extend until his fingers brushed agianst Sebastian's shoulder in that gentle effort to comfort his husband even despite those tumultuous feelings. Dorian eased himself downward and onto his own knees until the Monarch knelt beside his companion then. That broken wood that littered the ground around them akin to a wholly unwanted spread of confetti splinters.

"Sebastian, I....."

That hesitation within his own voice could hardly be missed. The normally eloquent Monarch so struggled for words within that moment as his gaze shifted to that singular ivory key Sebastian held within his own hands. The mere sight of it prompted those memories of Isabella throwing those instruments about to dance within his mind again before he reached to take that key from his lover then. Another sigh forced from his lips.

"I'm sorry. For all of this. I know what the piano, in particular, means to you. I was terribly fond of it too. I promise we will fix it."

How he meant those very words. A weak simper found his lips then. Even despite those turbulent emotions that simple love he had for his husband remained far more potent. Dorian incapable of at least attempting to soothe those worries over that instrument he knew his lover harboured. The piano key was turned nearly idly about within his own hands before Dorian shifted once more. The Fae King, this time, settling entirely upon the floor as that silence seemed to prevail once more. Those very wrds still left unsaid feeling near heavy upon his tongue and yet....how he could not let this go. Not tonight.

"You do not ever speak about your ex-wife, Bastian- and I do not ask. I fear however that tonight has left me with questions I need to ask. I....when she....you didn't choose..."

How those words felt hopeless again. Dorian once more found himself near tripping over those syllables before he fell silent again. The Monarch glanced away from his husband once more in that effort to gather his thoughts again before his silver gaze met the ardent blue of the vampire's own. How he so disliked to distress his husband and yet...how overdue that conversation surely was.

"Please, Sebastian. What happened to your wife?"

Dorian Aragona