It was a matter of great debate that saw Dorian seated at his dining table that day, his coloured pencils and paper scattered about him with that neatly printed formal invitation before him. It was a rarity indeed for the man to be awake in those daylight hours, tiredness already pressing upon him and yet he was determined to finish his task be retiring to bed. A task that gave him little joy if only for the lack of Sebastian within it. During the course of their holiday he had become entirely used to falling asleep beside or against or entangled within his lover. Returning to his own empty bed was a thoroughly displeasing process and it was, perhaps, to avoid just that displeasure that saw the man still seated at his table after the sun had risen. He had taken a liking to the curly-haired woman he had met that day in the park and too- seen several times thereafter. She was of both pleasing manner and comfortable disposition. An agreeable sort of woman he had decided to befriend and as such it had occurred to him to invite her to spend time in his company, the man so having desired to pen that invitation himself before setting about decorating that letter in the proper style as he had often done for Sebastian in those early days of courtship and before the letter sender. It was merely for the fun of it now that he so set about that old style letter production.

He had invited the woman to keep his company that coming Sunday afternoon- because surely she attended church in the mornings and he hated to disrupt that- assuring her that her husband was also welcome if he desired, if only because he hardly knew if, in this day and age, it was appropriate to invite a committed woman to spend time with him even as just friends without at least extending that invitation to her companion. Dorian dictating that time and too the café in the park on the South side he had deemed suitable. Their coffee was tolerable. Once his letter had been thoroughly decorated along with matching envelope the Monarch made his way out and onto the street, blinking in that sunshine before making the short walk to the posting box Samantha had taught him about and he had, in turn, insisted on practising using if only for the assurance he would, one day, surely like to deliver a letter. With the task complete he made his way easily back to his own home, at last collapsing into his all-too empty bed to stare at the ceiling, his fingers so instinctively fiddling with that ring on his left hand finding some sense of satisfaction in its presence in the least before finally allowing himself to fall asleep.

When Sunday so finally arrived Dorian dutifully set that alarm on his phone just as Sebastian had showed him. Waking himself up in the early afternoon had proven to be more difficult then he anticipated, Dorian twice nearly falling back asleep before forcing himself to get up and find suitable clothing for afternoon tea- the Fae King settling upon those jeans and neatly fitted navy shirt with his favoured black leather jacket. He reached for his phone and too his wallet- the man finally having learned about money- before making his way downstairs and out the front door. It was a simple matter then, to inform his guards off just where he was going before insisting as always, they remain entirely out of sight. The government insisting he not be unguarded even if his wished to at least attempt to maintain that anonymity. Dorian having agreed to such provided they did not hover about him or Sebastian. His phone had already buzzed several times, Dorian peering at the surface only to scowl slightly. He had told the palace, countless times, that he did not understand this notion of email nor how it was sent to a phone in any sense and yet they continued to email him those documents that required his permission or his signature, his phone alerting him of this every time. Dorian unaware as to how he had even obtained an email address let alone where it was or what it was. Computers still decidedly out of his reach. He should be forced to ask Sebastian, again, just how the vampire had made them appear last time. For now however, he was hardly inclined to deal with such nonsense- his phone tucked into his pocket to be ignored.

He arrived at that café in the park right on time, easing himself into one of those pleasant outdoor chairs before summoning a coffee as he waited for Raven. It was a cool and yet decidedly pleasant afternoon all the same, Dorian content to merely watch those people who moved through the park, the man rarely given to see those daytime activities any longer. A group of jogging mothers complete with prams saw his features frown slightly in contemplation before he spied that familiar curly hair. The King wholly pleased to see the girl approaching, he hadn't seen her since before his trip away. Dorian stood, as was polite for a man to do upon a woman's approach, pulling her chair out for her before seating himself once she was comfortable, waving that waiter over to attend to her.

"I see you got my letter then? I was greatly unsure of your address. I have never before heard of a boat having a letterbox."