The scent of that thick ruby liquid was nothing short of all encompassing for the English vampire. The near ebony hue of his gaze remained trained upon the crystalline glass within his husband's hands. His saliva almost seemed to pool within his mouth in anticipation of the life force it provided - one he so desperately needed when his own body had been forced to utilize the magic that ran through his veins to stitch back together his fit physique before his father-in-law's assistance. His slender pale fingers reached out for the glass, the vampire hardly hesitating to raise it to his lips. He didn't bother to savor the scent of it, much less it's flavor as he so quickly downed it's contents without pause. It hardly mattered to him, in that moment of desperation, that the blood was less than fresh, nor did he care about it's tepid temperature. Such ideal conditions were all but irrelevant to him at the moment. Slowly, the vampire lowered the emptied glass from his lips - his navy irises eyed the bottom of the wine glass with vague consideration of licking the bottom in an effort to drink even the very last drops that pooled at the bottom. He glanced towards his husband over the rim of the glass, entirely aware of his Monarch's silver irises settled upon him. A soft breath left Sebastian's lips as he placed his empty glass on the window sill beside him. How...determined his lover seemed to discuss William in depth. It was a conversation he had every desire to shy away from, particularly when he was still unsure of his own feelings at his friend's return, declaration of love and loyalty, and the subsequent stabbing.

His hands folded neatly behind his back, the formal stance so entirely habitual from those childhood years he'd been forced to listen to his father's chastising. He listened in silence as Dorian spoke of just why William's presence within their home was...inappropriate, even despite his childhood connection to the Dark Hunter. That position he had offered his friend, however, had come far before William's admission of love, much less the knife that had accosted him. Even he was not too jaded by emotions to know that a bodyguard who attacked his charge was a terrible bodyguard indeed. The sigh upon the King's lips seemed almost overly loud in the quietness of the space as Dorian's head shook ever so slightly. His brows furrowed at his husband's words. How quickly obvious it was becoming that both his lover and his friend had...overestimated his offer. "I wasn't expecting him to be with me in my office all the time Dorian, I --" His voice trailed off as he glanced up to see the clear hurt upon his husband's features. Truthfully, he had not considered that William's return, that his desire to have William so present within his life, might bother his husband so greatly. Surely Dorian knew his love for his King outweighed any affection he had for his friend? Had he truly been that selfish to offer such assistance to William?

Dorian's voice punctuated the silence that fell between them, drawing Sebastian from his thoughts as Dorian admitted some hint of...jealousy at Willian's presence. The Englishman could hardly help the hint of...anxiety that fluttered within his chest as his husband spoke of how frequently he was required to share the Incubus with the world at large. How...familiar this argument felt. How many times had he discussed in detail how little reason his wife had to have envy over the nameless women and men he'd once occupied his nights with? Muchless the looks he'd once managed to coax whenever they stepped out into high society. How very reminiscent of those nights this was! It made his throat dry as he considered, for the first time, that perhaps this marriage might be as doomed as his last one was. His tongue brushed nervously against his bottom lip as he uttered the only words he could think of that might possibly remedy the situation. "I'm sorry." Silence seemed to befall the royal couple in the wake of those words. Did Dorian truly desire an answer to those queries he had? Had he truly desired to hear Sebastian confirm how...right...he was in those wants? The last thing he anticipated was an inquiry on how the vampire might have handled things had their roles been reversed.

Oh, how unreasonable that very question was! Vampires, by nature, were possessive creatures! His own personality, in this regard, had changed ever since he had become a member of the undead legions. Those territorial tendencies were one of the few things that could provoke true violence from the usually passive man! How well Sebastian was sure they both knew the answer to that question. It was, however, best not to point out how...unfair that query was. Rather, Sebastian afforded his lover a simple nod of understanding, an apology, and the promise that this would not happen again. What other words were there to say beyond that? There was little he could do to remedy what had already occurred. His words, however, seemed to merely provoke his lover's...irritation. He watched as his husband rose from his place upon the precariously leaning desk. There was an abrupt shift to his lover's voice - that once soft vulnerability had quickly become replaced with a hard sort of authority, the very likes of which had never before been directed at him. His husband's...conditions were ones Sebastian was more than willing to agree to and yet...it was that blatant dismissal that had caught the Englishman off guard.

His lips parted and yet...what else truly was there for him to say? Dorian clearly did not desire his apology. His efforts to listen to his husband were...poorly received, much less any further explanation he might have offered for his own actions - actions that Sebastian was still trying to emotionally work through himself. Any hope of...comfort he might have wanted from his husband in the wake of...everything...seemed to be...quickly dissipating. His King, it seemed, had had his fill of him. His gaze turned towards the floor as he nodded only to lean forward in the subtlest, slightest of bows. "As you wish, Your Majesty." He muttered softly, those words hardly above a whisper before Sebastian reached out to collect his empty glass from the window sill and make his way across the room, leaving the fae to himself as he so seemed to desire to be.

Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

His Royal Highness, Prince of Italy