He has become confident, in the past few weeks, in moving a block or two from the apartment in any given direction. The fae king rarely strays further than this, after all, he prefers to keep his home within sight and yet with each passing day he grew steadily more curious of the world around him. He had taken it upon himself to walk to the corner several times a day, on occasions in which he felt truly brave, to walk around the entire block- often returning to the burnt down tavern that had been the site of his meeting with the rather pleasing vampire from some nights before. In the daylight hours however, he had become readily fascinated with watching the rebuilding of the tavern. The machines fascinated him. Aged though he was the man still retained, as most men did, a certain draw to anything mechanical. Even the workmen had come to recognise the well-dressed fae, though they had long since given up attempting to speak to him. Dorian, after all, saw little need to engage peasants in conversation, even if their activities fascinated him. The man had spent the better part of the day seated atop the wall, merely watching the crane hoist another beam into the air with an ease, grey eyes wide with awe at such a thing before the oncoming threat of rain finally saw him head for home once more. It would be decidedly displeasing were he to get wet. Wet was not becoming on anyone.

He pays truly little attention to Edie, the man having merely come to the decision that no one seemed to perceive royalty when they saw it and that it was a tiresome affair to continue to correct them. It was, thereby, better to simply ignore anyone he had no desire to engage with. Edie having fallen easily into such a category even despite her clearly lost looking demeanour. At least, until she suddenly steps in front of him. Dorian collides solidly with the girl, the man struggling to keep his balance as the woman was knocked entirely down to sprawl upon the pavement. It takes the fae several moments to regain his composure, Dorian making an effort to straighten his clothing, affording the girl a decidedly pointed scowl as she blinked up towards him. She was, he supposed, somewhat comely for a peasant. Even if she was apparently a blind one given she had walked right into him.

"I have no doubt I shall recover in time. You are significantly less painful then the bicycle bike although I might suggest in future you direct your vision ahead of you."

His words are accented and yet faultlessly enunciated all the same, his speech afforded a simple, easy eloquence that truly did match the rest of the man as he moves to extend a hand to her all the same and assist her to her feet as manner dictated of him. Truly, were his servants available, it would be they whom would help the girl up before sending her own her way- perhaps with a fine for having collided with His Grace and yet Dorian has quickly come to understand servants were in drastically short supply in this city. He affords her a small smile all the same, if only because the man finds he has a smile for anyone even mildly attractive. Her sudden attempts at explaining her state of distress however see the young Fae frown once more. Chased by men? He was, perhaps, not entirely surprised, this kingdom was veritably filled with unsavoury beings. He himself having been chased several times. He suspects at least one of the bandits had stolen his original pair of shoes.

"It does seem as if you have managed to elude them. At least, no one is following you now although I am not surprised you were chased at all. They may have been after your shoes. They took mine."

Dorian has clearly not forgiven this insult from the day he had arrived in this kingdom, arms folding across his chest before the storm grey of his gaze returns to the woman before him and her request for his assistance.

"Truthfully I have little idea of where 'downtown' is myself. I live just here though, if you desire it I shall climb the endless stairs ask my companion where this downtown is and she might be able to afford you direction?"

Samantha, after all, seemed to know most things. That this is exactly what the girl does not want remains to be seen, Dorian merely awaiting her response before his lips quirks softly to the side in a smooth, boyish gesture.

"You are not English by any chance are you? Your accent seems to indicate it. I like the English."

He had truly only met one other Englishman and yet he had been thoroughly pleasing.