Dorian AragonaHis Royal Highness

It was with an almost laconic, satisfied ease that Dorian so stretched himself further out on the dark leather couch within the sitting room, his book resting upright upon his chest to allow him read all the same, the Fae King so having managed to reach an almost modern portion of the world history book Samantha had so provided him with some months ago. To read the entirety of the history of the world however was an arduous task, one that took a great deal of time and yet time was perhaps one asset the Monarch held above anything else. Sebastian had left not but fifteen minutes ago in search of a meal, this one of the rare occasions in which he did not take from Dorian himself, the vampire so having declared that his flesh needed to heal without interruption for but the next few days before he took blood again. Dorian so having come to realise arguing with his lover rarely achieved anything but his companion's distress and as such the Fae man had simply agreed. This the fourth night in which Sebastian had so refrained feeding from him, those previous bite wounds healing entirely well and yet his lover had, at last, become hungry enough to seek another food source. Dorian having assured him he would still be here when he returned and as such the man had made himself entirely comfortable on the couch. Charles and Elizabeth both having headed out on different tasks, leaving Dorian alone within the peace of the home he now shared with his companion more often than he was within his own.

The bright silver of his gaze frowned softly at this mention of the 'Cold War' within his book, the use of something the man so associated with temperature to describe a war so drawing that quizzical look to his features before the sound of the front door opening momentarily saw the book rest upon his chest. Charles had anticipated he would be gone for at least two hours, Elizabeth unsure when she would return and Sebastian had left only minutes ago. Unless the man had so managed to find a wandering maiden within the street Dorian was assured his consort had simply forgotten something. How terribly unlike him. Yet perhaps not overly surprising all the same, a soft simper of amusement so tracing his features. His head inclines backward but briefly at the soft sound off footsteps, steps that seemed far to light to be his lover unless the man was sneaking, the very first note of unease- subtle though it was- fluttering gently within his chest before Dorian so moved to dismiss it. His silver-hued gaze so expecting his companion to appear within his field of vision at any moment.

"Bastian? Did you forg-"

His words are cut off by the sudden and distinctly feminine tones of another, Dorian sitting abruptly upright now. He had not been told Sebastian was expecting guests! One hand so automatically reaches for his hair, attempting to tame some semblance of order to those mussed earthen locks that were decidedly askew from sleep, his other hand reaching to pull that loosely hanging white cotton shirt across his chest. His fingers work quickly now, doing up the buttons, after all, anything less than a buttoned shirt was an entirely unacceptable state within which to greet a lady! Dorian working now to conceal those healing bites that patterned his skin beneath that fabric, arranging the collar for just this purpose too before at last turning the entirety of his attention to- a child. For several moments the Monarch merely finds himself almost dumbfounded at the sight of the petite blonde girl. Was she lost? Had she merely walked in from the street like some little urchin in search of a crust of bread as those street children had so often done in his time? Yet she had called Sebastian by name and too- she was not dressed as a peasant child by any means. Dorian finding himself wholly confused as he stood from the couch all the same, aware he had been addressed and yet he had never before truly been called to have audience with a child! A vampire child at that. His affinity for life so assuring him this girl lacked it entirely. A new sort of wariness so overcoming him now and yet so many years of practice within those Italian courts sees the man, outwardly, remain nothing less than calm.

"No, I am not Sebastian. He has gone out this evening I'm sorry. I am Dorian, I am his-"

His words halt abruptly upon his tongue. The child clearly knew Sebastian and yet she did not know him, Dorian so assured by that notion Sebastian had ceased to mention him to whomever the young miss was and that it had, perhaps, been for a reason. A soft smile touching his features once more as he made to clear his throat as if it were but a tickle of sorts that had stopped his words rather then the abject of thought. It would be imprudent, of that he is suddenly sure, to inform the girl of his true relationship to her Sebastian. Dorian merely settling for something far less affectionate and too- leaving off his own titles for now.

"-friend."

It had not escaped his note that despite the size and apparent youth of the girl it was likely she was far older then she appeared. How best to address her something of a mystery in this moment, along with her intention. He was distinctly unused to children in any sense and yet treating her entirely as a child merely seemed incorrect when her true age was unknown. Such might prove offensive to her and small or not he is hardly unaware of the strength of a vampire at any size. Dorian entirely unwilling to share the blood in his veins with any outside his consort. The sheer life it carried a secret better kept between them alone. That soft smile remains upon his features as he steps forward and towards her all the same before gently crouching down in front of her, bringing himself to her height. After all, while it was so most adults were forced to kneel before him it seemed as if expecting as such from a child was far-fetched. Dorian far more inclined to placate this one until Charles or Elizabeth, or better yet, Sebastian came home. He holds one hand gently outward, so requesting her own in that centuries old gesture that was all but forgotten and lost within modern times.

"I do not believe we have met before, whom might you be?"

There is an ease to his actions, a pleasantness, Dorian remaining that picture of polite even to a child. Until he knew whom or what she was there was little sense in so distressing her. Sebastian had never mentioned a child to him, indeed, Samantha alone had been the only one to mention a vampiric child that might relate to Sebastian in some fashion and if this was, indeed, that child, Dorian remained distinctly assured he had no desire to upset it. How unfortunate his phone was upstairs. Perhaps he need find an excuse to go up and retrieve it. Unless he might so convince her to leave. His features shifting into a look of surprise of sorts.

"My, but this is a pretty dress! Such a shame it has been rumpled though. It is terrible these days, isn't it now, just how many bad people are upon the streets, ruining a ladies dress like that. It should be a crime."

He allows but another simper to trace his features, softly releasing her hand now as he regards her with ease.

"Do you care to wait for Sebastian? He might be a very long time though. Would you like if I told him you stopped by instead? Have you a calling card to leave?"

Dorian was, after all, so often oblivious to how much he showed his age. Calling cards having gone out of fashion in the Victorian era.