The Englishman was entirely conscious of the anxiety that spilled from his husband, evident in the way the handsome fae cast those entrancing silver irises downwards to the marked hesitation in those usually eloquent syllables. It was so distinctly unlike Dorian in every way, though, so too was the tale that his lover wove of a scandalous death that had occurred lifetimes ago. Sebastian, however, greeted that admittance with little save complete and utter silence. His features were lack of any truly discernable emotion as he merely stared blankly at the Monarch before him. He struggled, completely so, to even so much as consider his husband hold enough anger to lash out violently. In the face of persecution, in the face of hatred and skepticism, Dorian was nothing short of completely poised. He had watched his husband stand headstrong before dignitaries that viewed their marriage as an abomination just as he had watched Dorian remain the epitome of calm before ambassadors that spoke passionately of Italy's sometimes dated policies, he'd watched his husband's rule called into question and still he'd witnessed never more than a flicker of agitation. He watched the fae run from crickets and chainsaws and seek comfort within Sebastian's arms. How...impossible it was to imagine Dorian ever lifting those daggers with the intent to kill.

It took Sebastian far longer then it should have, admittedly, for the vampire to remember that any word of response was required of him. His usual composure had long ago failed him, leaving the usually socially adept Prince struggling within that sea of emotions that tumbled and crashed around him. The sterling hue of his husband's gaze had only just dared to peek up at him as Sebastian closed the distance between them. His arms wrapped around the Monarch's tense physique, the vampire was well aware of that anxiety that still afflicted his King. The fae's heart, after all, still beat loudly in the silence of their broken home. His lips brushed tenderly against Dorian's forehead before, softly, he muttered of the sheer time that had passed between now and that evening of Ferdinand's death. That sin may be Dorian's to bear for an eternity but it was hardly resemblance of the man Dorian was today. He had hardly anticipated the inquiry upon his lover's lips, the King's voice giving away not only the importance of that singular question but too that deep-seated fear. Sebastian's brow rose in a glimpse of surprise, the vampire loosening his grip if only to turn his gaze downwards and meet the striking silver eyes that so stared up at him. "What? Of course not, I am yours for all eternity...presuming you forgive me for tonight...." An almost weak simper crossed his features.

Sebastian was entirely aware of his husband's arms slowly reaching out to embrace him, his own grip tightening ever so slightly as Dorian leaned into the cool, hard planes of his chest. The Prince's chin rested gently upon the top of his lover's head as he listened, wordlessly, to the slowing of those once frantic heartbeats. The navy hue of his own gaze swept over the remains of the ballroom as he considered the vague story his lover had provided him with. Truthfully, Sebastian suspected there was far more to the tale than the simple murder of Ferdinand. He could scarcely believe his lover capable of such level of hatred unprovoked. It was that very ling of questioning his tired mind seemed to hyper-focus upon, nagging at him with such insistence that, finally, that very query of what they had been fighting over fell from his lips. He listened in silence as Dorian spoke of his mother's death - that topic one so rarely spoken of in itself. A small frown crossed his lips at Ferdinand's clear impertinence, the King clearly caring little for the loss of his wife when there were still others to meet his apparently pressing needs. His brows furrowed, his shoulders tensing ever so slightly at the sheer mention of his husband being struck, regardless of how very long ago it had been.

It was...curious that Matteo might have had a second son and hadn't intervened with fate to save it too. Though perhaps Dorian was right and even he was ignorant of whether or not he'd fathered the babe. "I know...that all life is precious but...it seems as if you were merely attempting to protect your brother, Dorian....and protecting someone who cannot protect themselves in a very valiant thing my love, even if the outcome was not entirely desirable." It hardly excused Ferdinand's death and yet....the truth of that tale aligned near perfectly with that view he held of his husband. Though the act might have been in anger...so too was it rooted in love...and in grief and how painfully well Sebastian understood what a man might be spurred to do when under the sway of such powerful emotions.

Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

His Royal Highness, Prince of Italy