Sebastians soft utterance of the word 'work' as if it were a cardinal sin to mention the word at all readily saw the simper dance upon the Fae Kings lips once more. His lover so inquiring but a moment later as to whether or not Benito often saw fit to put to work those rouge vampires Dorian so often brought home, a soft chortle rising within his throat at even the notion before he merely shook his head. It was, wholly, to prevent any confusion on the part of his advisor that he had been so quick to respond with just what Sebastian's position was both in life as the Baron of Belton and too at his side as Consort. To have his lover mistaken for a manservant would have been nothing short of embarrassing to the entire court! Dorian so simply having moved to prevent such a social disaster as that well before it occurred, the amusement in Sebastian voice assuring his own grin remained all the same in response to that tease. His voice holding that ready humor.

"I should not like you to have been mistaken for a manservant. Benito was so busy sending the other servants off to different tasks I should be most displeased if he had sent you to peel potatoes in the kitchen. Amusing though this would be. As for my bringing home rouge vampires, I try to bring only the non-rouges home."

Sebastian was, in truth, the only being of any species he had ever brought home with a clear intention. Those women stolen through back doors to entertain him for but the night hardly counted. To so present his lover as just whom he was as Consort was a veritable first for Dorian and that, in turn, had surely stunned his advisor in equal measure. Just as it had surely stunned the rest of his court, whom, by now, had almost all certainly heard if those women had done just as Dorian suspected of them and passed on that gossip throughout the walls of his home. Women. They could so be relied upon for that in the least. Any further thoughts upon the matter were stolen away by that touch his companions lips to his own, Dorian wholly eager to ensnare only more of the vampire's attention away from those pastries and onto himself when the physicians arrival ended any such hope of that. Dorian struggling to attempt to stop the little man whom was either deaf or simply chose to ignore his King's commands in favour of that perceived belief of their need for medical intervention. Dissuading Geoffrey had become an altogether pointless task, Dorian merely resigning himself to that physical exam and yet it was the little warlock's efforts to assess Sebastian in the same manner that so saw the Monarch struggle to maintain his composure. The physician so unaware of the truth behind the vampires words, taking them instead entirely for praise as he stood a little straighter. Someone, finally, appreciating his efforts as they once had! Sebastian providing a brand new patient for a man whom had been made somewhat redundant for five centuries surrounded by immortal Fae. His declaration of Dorians own 'delicate composition' however saw the faintest of scowls from the Fae, the man assured his lover would seize upon that with the same fervour as he had seized that croissant. Sebastian hardly failing to disappoint. Dorian's own eyes rolling dramatically at the vampires oh so sincere words before Geoffrey took his leave. The vampire content to refer to him as at least somewhat endearing, Dorian chuckling once more.

He was, Dorian supposed, at least mildly endearing in some sense. After all even Dorian himself could not bring himself to be rid of him when the little man tried so desperately hard and had served him loyally all those years even if they might yet have been better off without him. Thoughts of the physician however was gleefully cast aside in exchange for the prospect of showing his lover at least some of his home. The Fae King all-too content to tease at the vampire in turn as he so shifted from his reach with those playful words- hardly anticipating his lovers response, a scoff of sorts falling from his lips as he offered his hand to the man all the same, helping him to his feet. Amusement tainting his words once more as his shoulders lifted in an all too nonchalant shrug.

"You should hope my constitution is not too delicate, Mon Cher. Else you might be left to excite yourself in turn without any of my....assistance and that would not be nearly as glorious."

One eye raised upward at those decidedly daring, whispered words, Dorian leaning abruptly forward to press his lips to his companions own if only to so enforce his point, that kiss hardly chaste, a small sound of satisfaction stirring with his throat, allowing his teeth to but slightly catch Sebastian's lower lip in that wholly sensual manner before leaning away. His hand remained within his companions own, content then to lead the vampire out of that apartment, pausing but once to speak to those maids whom lingered outside, assuring his lover hardly heard him before sending them into the room with but an assurance to his companion that it was something to be enjoyed on their return. Sebastian's inquiry as to whether or not it was more pleasing then those pastries so stirring a look of thoughtfulness to the Kings features, as if such a question truly required great consideration on his part.

"It shall be equal to them in the very least."

Ah, but he was so willing to take up that challenge! So failing to give away any further information upon his intentions all the same and yet how such words might so encourage him to improve upon his own ideas if only for the sheer desire to be better than a pastry! He was, in the least, sure he could achieve just that. It was easy then, to lead his lover down those stairs to just one level below his own apartments. Dorian moving with no true rush, allowing the vampire to pause or touch or query anything he might see as they moved, the man diligently ignoring a number of rooms. After all, he knew what he would find behind those doors. Bedrooms and drawing rooms, a playroom, his mother's lounge and his father study coated beneath that thick dust of time and frozen like a portrait. The rooms left just the way they had been the last time they were used. Memories he hardly cared to subject himself too.

"Most of these are my sibling's bedrooms and their accompanying lounges. Some are drawing rooms or parlours, two are servant's quarters and that was my father's study."

He gestured to each door in turn, affording his lover some notion in the least of what existed behind those dusted doors before he so felt the vampire come to a halt. Dorian in turn pausing to examine whatever it was that ensnared his lover's attention, the man near immediately feeling that slight flush of heat upon his features at the realisation of just what Sebastian had found. He was quick to at least attempt an explanation for that centuries old oil painting of himself so purposefully posed and with his hair down to his shoulders as was the style in the time and perhaps preferable to those bowl cuts many bore. Sebastian's assuring him he could hardly imagine it as Dorian so attempted to lead him away from it before he could commit it to memory.

"I should not like you to imagine it at all. I should like you to forget it. I do not think, in truth, one ever looks truly glorious in a portrait. At least though, in those I saw of you, you were not wearing tights."

He was all too eager to lead his lover past those paintings and towards his true goal, that slight embarrassment tugging at him still as he made for those doors at the end of the hall, both guards straightening at his presence before opening them for him, revelling that stone spiral staircase that so oddly travelled downward. Sebastian's momentary apprehension was hardly unnoticed, Dorian merely allowing that simper to touch his lips once more in some assurance that he was hardly going to take his companion anywhere unpleasant- the vampire following but a moment later. They continued down for some time before at last finding themselves in a truly old and yet well-lit tunnel, those torches burning brightly as they always had, Dorian moving confidently along that stone path, the pair passing several more fully armoured guards whom each bowed in turn to the pair before at last reaching that set of solid steel double doors. The Monarch so turning to his lover once more, readily amused at the confusion that surely adorned his features, his hand resting still in the vampires own.

"I think Bastian, for what exists in this room I shall require your modern understandings to so assist me with it. I fear I have little idea of its value any longer. Perhaps it has none, but I thought it might intrigue you to see."

His own hand pressed then against that decidedly heavy door, Dorian so forced to push it quite firmly to open it and reveal that enormous room- piled beyond all belief with gold. Rows upon rows of gold coins stacked and ordered surrounded the room, several tables stood with golden chalices and goblets thick with precious gems atop them, jewellery in gold and silver scatted amongst it, furniture adorned in precious metals, several bejewelled statues and artefacts and art lost to the world itself hung from the walls. Bars of gold resting anywhere there had been space. The back wall, in pride of place, held a series or ornately crafted weapons, most of them swords of varying types. Each hilt was different, each made of varying precious metals and gems and beneath each a single silver name plate so dictating whose sword it was- or had been. The one at the end so printed with Dorians name, so obviously missing. The sword of each King of Naples resting there. A bookshelf beside it holding those works too valuable to be within the library itself. Dorian so halted within the centre of the room, affording Sebastian every opportunity to take in what existed here. His question then, entirely genuine, the Fae frowning slightly in consideration all the same.

"Do you think, Mon Cher, any of this may still have value today? Please, feel free to touch if you desire, but be careful, some of it is silver. Can any of this be made into that paper money people carry today? Or is worthless now?"

Dorian Aragona