Dorian AragonaHis Royal Highness

The displeasure in the small child at being told 'no' was hardly lost upon the Monarch. Her little frame froze, her tiny fists clenching together as if on the threshold of a veritable tantrum and truly, in the moment, Dorian-rather than fear- felt a true note of disdain for the girl. She was spoilt of that he was sure. Such a notion perhaps somewhat ironic to be considered by a man whom had grown up as a Prince no less and yet the disdain with which she regarded him, when he had offered her little save respect even despite her rudeness, was truly beginning to press upon him. This, he thinks, was the very reason a child should never be made into a vampire. She would never grow beyond this age, this point in time or this state of mind. It was almost a curse, in some sense. A part of the man almost inclined to pity her all at once. After all- did she ever long to grow up? To have others treat as something other than a child? Or had she simply become used to throwing tantrums so aided by vampiric strength to achieve what she desired in this life? Was she adult enough to even consider her decisions? How curious it was, that the single utterance of 'no' on his behalf so seemed to press these considerations to the forefront of his mind. He had played with her for well over an hour now. Dorian content to keep that peace if only for some fear she might destroy his lovers home and yet to so suggest she might move in was more than he was willing to bear. The Far King so content to at least attempt to exact some form of discipline upon her.

She turned towards him then, her gaze narrowed, a single step taken as if she so intended to bring about some harm upon and yet for that moment at least Dorian remained entirely where he was as Anna-Marie declared she would simply follow him if he moved. Whatever other words the girl had been about to offer him were halted by the sudden call of his own name. Dorian, even now, unable to prevent that simper that dared to dance upon his lips at the mere presence of his companion. Sebastian succeeded in pressing but a few steps into that room before he seemed to freeze, whatever it was he had been holding dropped to the floor in a manner so uncharacteristic for his lover. That hand that so extended towards him saw the Fae king take it readily and almost instinctively, allowing Sebastian to place himself between them as the man seemed to desire, Dorian affording it but the softest of squeezes in sheer relief at having the man return home and too perhaps the faintest touch of possessiveness for the man himself. Sebastian, surely, would sort out this nonsense of a situation that Dorian held so little true understanding off. How curious it was though, the manner in which his lover so addressed the child, almost as if he held some anxiousness about her, such a notion only further unsettling the Monarch himself as he reached briefly to grasp that bag Sebastian had dropped to place it upon the hall table beside them. Servants surely picked up bags did they not? His own words of query on this situation barely had time to form upon his lips before Anna-Marie spoke, her attempts to whisper truly poor and yet it was Sebastian's caution within this situation that so assured Dorian's own wariness in turn. The Fae so wholly attuned to his vampire companion that his prior irritation with the child- while still in existence- was so effortlessly cast aside in an effort to assure this remained civil. Dorian politely adding his own more information now.

"Anna-Marie let herself in not long after you had left I....thought it was you returning home. She told me another vampire had bitten her and so rudely ruined her dress. Such a lovely dress to, wasn't it? I suggested that perhaps she might wish to visit you another time but she was inclined to stay. She asked me to make tea, I....had a little trouble."

He hardly dared draw attention to his burned fingers now lest Sebastian fret over them when they surely had more pressing affairs to attend to. Dorian so affording the man a near apologetic glance for the state of his kitchen and yet those modern skills were well beyond his own learning. Especially with a mere child to instruct him.

"We had tea and she wished to play a game that so involved searching for a lost key and then she desired that I make her a doll. Have you shown Lyra to Sebastian? I am sure he would like to see. Then she wished to draw too and, following that, she so declared her intention to move in with you. I suggested that it might be more polite to ask you first and even so, that you were surely considering moving and that perhaps her moving in right now was not an ideal time...."

His words remained as eloquent and pleasant as always, Dorian so effortlessly attempting to include the girl in the conversation (children never did like to be left out) while attempting to provide Sebastian the truth of that evening without so hinting at any displeasure he might have felt for the situation. The Fae, if anything, wholly capable of playing the role so handed to him in this moment. Dorian working to appear that picture of calm as the silver of his gaze so lifted to the blue of his lovers own. They would solve this somehow, surely. Dorian so longed to crawl into those sheets and his lovers arms and be done with this! Yet, for all his want of this curious child to disappear his mind so continued to linger upon her earlier words and too those that had gone unfinished but moments ago. She so continued to declare Sebastian 'hers', as if his lover so belonged to her in some fashion. It was curious perhaps, the emotion those simple words seemed to stir within him and yet Dorian could hardly deny that recurring feeling of possessiveness he felt for the man beside him. In all their relationship so far no other had ever truly dared lay any claim to the vampire in any sense. Dorian, as such, rarely having any need to visit those emotions and yet, despite how rarely he need display them, they existed all the same. Potently so. It was foolish perhaps, to take disdain in a mere child and yet a part of the Monarch was distinctly displeased with her daring to suggest Sebastian was somehow her belong. Dorian quite assured, as ancient a notion that it was, that Sebastian was his and his alone. His grip tightened upon the vampires hand with that thought, Dorian releasing it a moment later as he shifted but slightly forward to stand at Sebastian's side and a little behind. His shoulder brushing against the vampires own just so. Maintaining that touch, subtle though it was and so clearly indicative, at least in his own time, that it was at his side his lover so surely belonged. How little of this he understood!