Dorian could hardly help that near teamble that found his very heart in the wake of his admittance of just exactly what he had done all those years ago. Ferdinands death, his murder, had weighed heavily upon the Monarch from the very moment of its commitance. To act as he had done was surely....unforgivable. No matter the sort of men Ferdinand had been and yet, even now, Dorian could so hardly bring himself to regret that act. At least, not entirely. Ferdinand had been so terribly unkind to him, his mother, to Matteo and that very infant child he had long suspected was not his own son. Perhaps the once Italian King had deserved what he had gotten to some extent and yet how well Dorian remembered that sheer outrage he had felt that night. The very kind the Monarch had sworn would never, ever again afflict him. Dorian had been determined, from that very night onward, that he would not be that man again. The sort of man to react with violent intent no matter his aggressor. How desperately he did not desire for Sebastian to think of him as such a man as that. How near terrified he was at the prospect Sebastian might simply find himself unwilling to love him any longer with that truth known.

It took several long moments before the Monarch so dared to paper upward at his otherwise silent husband. The vampire, for far too long, having seemed near stunned at that admittance. Sebastian lent back ever so slightly, the ardent blue gaze of the vampire met Dorian's own in that moment as he peered upward. That question upon whether or not Sebastian intended to divorce him seemed to hang precariously within the air. Such a sin as this, surely, might prove too much for Sebastian to be willing to uphold. That very surprise within his lovers voice however readily seemed to prompt a near questioning look from the Fae King in turn. Sebastian was all-too quick to dismiss that notion of divorce entirely. The vampire so insisting he was surely Dorian's own for all eternity. How terribly much he adored to hear those very words! The Monarch was quick to tighten his grip around his husband's waist once more. Dorian near burying his head within Sebastian's chest as he held him all the closer. The relief that flooded his system was surely palpable and felt through that very ring that connected his heartbeat to Sebastian's own. Sebastian's query on whether or not Dorian might forgive him for this evening was met with a ready nod.

"Of course I do."

Those words were near muttered agianst Sebastian's chest and yet Dorian was assured his husband heard them all the same. Dorian so meaning them entirely. The vampire shifted slightly then, his chin coming to rest agianst Dorian's head in that simple affection before Sebastian queried the very details of that story. It was several moments still before the Monarch so at last uttered the rest of that tale. A story that, for so long, had been kept between merely Matteo and himself. It was near a relief to speak it aloud and yet that distress so quickly found its way to his accented voice all the same. He remembered that evening so well, even if it had been centuries ago. Cesare's screaming had been so loud, the poor Babe had been so distressed since their mother had died and how terribly, terribly angry Ferdinand had been. Sebastian's gentle words prompted Dorians gaze upward once more, the vampire insisting that, surely, in defense of his infant brother- Ferdinand's death was....justified. Perhaps.....Sebastian was right. Cesare would surely have died a far more violent death at Ferdinand's hands had Dorian allowed it. Whether the infant had been his full brother or indeed merely his half sibling had so hardly mattered. The Babe had still been his brother.

"I...should have stopped Ferdinand, not killed him and yet even after all this time, while I am ashamed of what I did I....do not regret saving Cesare. Even if he died shortly after."

Those emotions were...confusing- and terribly conflicting all at once. Yet that very notion that Sebastian, in the least, did not hate him for it was all that mattered in that very moment. How terrible a night it had been all over and yet, perhaps somehow, they were stronger for it. Dorian afforded his lover another gentle hug before at last detangling himself from the vampire's waist, his hand reaching to grasp his husband's own.

"I think, Mon Cher, that perhaps we should retire to bed and tomorrow we will try again. This is a night that is, I think, better put aside."

Dorian Aragona