Dorian Ellington-AragonaThe King of Italy

The answer to that riddle, Dorian was certain, was definitely pottery. It made perfect sense to his mind. The Monarch was wholly certain that he had solved that verbal problem. Indeed, Dorian was distinctly proud of himself as he reached to lift the blindfold from his silver gaze. Only to discover that this, perhaps, was not exactly the response Raven had desired. The young woman's efforts to stop him removing that blindfold came far too late as he lifted that eye mask from his features only to blink in clear confusion. This was so distinctly not pottery barn. How very curious. Dorian's silver gaze took several moments longer to adjust to the change in light, the Monarch glancing curiously around that store before his gaze, at last, rested upon Raven herself. Her distinctly rounded belly was entirely noticeable. Her pregnancy, clearly in its advanced stages, was entirely clear. That other life Dorian had detected making sense now that the eye mask had been removed. That congratulations was quick to fall from the Monarch's lips. A pregnancy, after all, was a joyous occasion. Dorian was wholly aware of just how much that child was surely wanted in turn. Raven, after all, had desired that motherhood near as much as she had worried over it. Tobias was, perhaps, a veritable unknown in this equation. Just how the man would take to his newfound role perhaps debatable and yet here and now Dorian so hardly desired to question any such thing. Raven's grin was nothing short of beaming, the young woman insisted she had desired to tell him sooner and yet that conflict of schedules and recent events had prevented such a thing. Dorian so merely brushed such concerns away with a light wave of his hand.

"That is entirely alright, Raven. It has been a difficult few months for many. I am very pleased you chose to share such news with me all the same. When is the child due? Do you hope for a son?"

That those modern values had changed, over time, had not truly occurred to the Monarch. Italy, after all, still retained those old world values. The crown capable of passing to a male heir alone. Indeed, in Dorian's own time, the birth of a son was what each and every family desired. Someone to carry on that family name and legacy, to inherit that land. Such a question, after all, was nothing short of common within his own time. Raven shifted to gesture to that room at large then, those woodworking tables and stencils were, admittedly, outside his area of expertise. The Monarch eyeing them near curiously as Raven commented upon the beauty of those raw, natural materials. How assuredly right she was! Dorian was wholly open to that idea even if he was unfamiliar with the medium at large. Wood, after all, was of nature. Nature in itself was a thing of beauty and yet- Dorian had never truly paid much heed to wood itself. After all, woodwork, once, had been the craft of the peasantry classes. A task undertaken with one's hands. Modern times however had surely changed that very thing. Dorian decidedly curious even if he remained uncertain to some degree. Raven gestured towards several boxes then before suggesting that perhaps he might like to craft his own. The young woman seemed to suggest he might wish to build something. That very notion seemed to bring a look of alarm to his features.

"You wish for me to...how you say....construct something? With a hammer and nails?"

How utterly baffling! No one, Dorian was certain, had ever asked him to build anything before. That wood, with its natural tones and knots and lines was nothing short of tempting to paint upon or indeed, to inspire his own art and yet the idea of using it to build was one Dorian had never before considered in all his life! Such a task seemed wholly....terrifying. The Monarch's gaze shifted from Raven to that wood and back again. The idea of 'stencils' was wholly lost upon him and yet Dorian was....willing to try all the same.

"I suppose I could attempt to craft one of those boxes. I have no idea how to do it though I fear."

The sudden arrival of an older woman prompted Dorian's gaze to shift as his head nodded politely towards her. Those refreshments Raven had prepared had been laid out, the Monarch more then willing to head towards them as the older woman confirmed the apparent taste of those cookies.

"Thank you, it is a pleasure to visit your.....residence."

Just what this shop was Dorian was so hardly sure, after all, the idea of building reminded nothing short of novel to him and yet the Monarch was distinctly determined to try all the same as he reached to take the first cookie before biting into it. How very pleasant the flavour!

"These really are splendid Raven. What do you plan to build?"