It was typical of a peasant, else some other low born woman, to be unable to string a sentence together, the girl seeming to trip and stumble over her words- Dorian failing to anticipate that it was by his own means the girl was becoming flustered. Her lack of education hardly surprising to him. He would merely have to tolerate her apparent stuttering disorder. Her sudden exclamation that she is not a prostitute however sees those grey eyes move back towards her, her tone seeming to demand his attention, the command within her words seeing a small frown mark his eternally youthful features.

"Then why do you dress yourself as one? As it stands you do not have the authority to command anything of me and I shall refer to you as I see fit or until you offer me some true indication of your title and position in life."

If she was not, in fact, a prostitute, then her choice of clothing was decidedly obtuse, his gaze moving critically downward to watch her attempt to straighten out her overly short skirt- Dorian averting his gaze hurriedly once more although truly the vast majority of women in this overly large garden appeared to be dressed immorally. There was much to be discussed with whomever was in charge. If ever they were to be found. No one truly seeming to be able to offer him any true indication of just which Lord or King- ruled this city. His panic having steadily begun to rise the more and more out of his depth he continued to tread, so many years of being taught to conceal his emotions however, resulting in a rather staunch determination not to offer any more then mild disdain upon the outside- oblivious to the woman's ability to feel the steady stream of confusion that rolled within him like the winds of winter. Her insistence that he is dramatic is met with little more than a blank stare, Dorian assured he is hardly more than his station dictates, if anything he had always been considered mild in his manner by his Father and his elder siblings- the Prince offering her little more than the disapproval of his gaze as she gestured to the fallen steel horse people were attempting to pick up. Declaring it to be the 'Bicycle Bike.'

"We do not keep such animals where I am from, it seems a decidedly stupid creature f it cannot be stopped. I shall have the name of the man whom dared to strike me with his Bicycle Bike regardless. I shall have him punished. Yes, King is my correct title. Do you mean to inform me you do not know who I am?"

Both eyes widen slightly once more, the realisation that he was utterly unknown within this terrible Kingdom seeming to dawn upon him. It explained, he supposed, why so many of the peasants and even the police had been so vastly unhelpful. Dressed as he was it hardly spoke of his station to those outside his Kingdom, Dorian having dressed in little more than his informal finery, some of their behaviour then, perhaps excusable by mistake alone and yet how forgiving he is content to be remains to be seen- especially when they continued to ignore his orders.

"You have asked me to excuse you three times now, I assure you I do not know what it is you perceive to have done that requires my forgiveness outside of your manner, your dress, your disobedience or your disrespectful tone but I assure you that you are forgiven for all of your indiscretions if you will simply afford me some assistance."

He was becoming steadily more flustered himself, the rattle of a skateboard seeing him stumble back and towards her, one hand lifting to run nervously through his dark locks. His association with such a woman was immoral in itself and yet she had, so far, been the only one to actually speak to him for longer than a few moments, Dorian willing to forgo protocol â€"slightly- if only in attempt to seek her aid. The girl soft laughter at his fear earning her a scowl once more.

"We are not amused. Your people however seem to find everything amusing, you are a strange breed."

That he has, in one single motion, damned the entire city as a collection of hysterical fools remains to be seen. Why on earth did they continue to laugh at him? Her promise to go somewhere safer however sees him entirely willing to follow her. Finally. Someone useful. Her curtsy met almost instantly with a mild dip of his own head- a near inbuilt reaction to her own gesture of respect. The man utterly oblivious to her attempts at sarcasm.

"You are a Lady?"

The surprise in his voice is evidently clear as he moves to follow her wherever she might lead.

"Your Lord permits you to walk about dressed like that?"

It is a genuine question, Dorian lessening his stride to walk beside the woman, each passing being however seeming to earn his suspicion as they passed. Why were so many women running? From whom were they running? That they were running for exercise simply never occurred to him. Running was such a foul activity. One that generally resulted in perspiration- another horrific condition.

"How many miles is your Castle? I request you take me there so that I might....work out where I am."

It is his first admittance, truly, that he is insecure about where he is and far more lost then he has openly implied, a shout to his left seeing the young Fae Prince turn, one of the policeman from before standing atop the hill, pointing frantically in his direction.

"Might we hasten?"

The sudden wail of police sirens sees the man lunge violently sideways, near colliding with a tree as he stumbles, frantically searching for the horrific wailing sound before his hands lift to block his ears- his hearing perhaps overly sensitive after so many years spent within the silence of the stone walls of his palace.

"What is that noise? It sounds like the screams of a thousand fires of hell! We do not like it!"

That he is the cause of the wailing sound and rather a number of rapidly gathering policeman remains to be seen, the Fae King having been listed as armed and dangerous, more than one Hunter present amongst the gathering human police forces- in search of the prize they had lost. The police moving hurriedly in an attempt to surround the park.....