How those very works of art that lined the walls of Buckingham so seemed to entice the fae King. Framed in gilded wood, each and every masterpiece was nothing short of exquisite, maintained with the utmost perfection throughout the years. How attentive his lover seemed to brush stroke and pigment, many of which simply did not exist any longer now that the very creation of paint had turned into a far more synthetic process. Sebastian, however, had long since learned patience when it came to his husband's inspection of such art. It brought the Monarch such joy to attentively inspect such paintings, the King often speaking of it later even if Sebastian was incapable of appreciating them quite to the same degree. Nevertheless, eventually Dorian followed him from the hallways of Buckingham and into the throne room itself - the very one in which the vampire himself had spoken of on a number of occasions. He watched with a small simper upon his features as Dorian meandered several feet within the room, only for that awe to overtake the fae. That soft sound of a gasp prompted a low chuckle from the vampire as he watched Dorian's eyes turn upwards and towards the checkerboard pattern upon the ceiling. That golden hue his lover so adored near filled every facet of the room - from those pillars to the walls and, naturally, the ostentatious display of the English throne itself!

Those exquisitely cushioned thrones were nothing short of breathtaking in comparison to the dining room chairs that made up Italy's daises. How proud his lover had once been to show him Caserta! And yet, perhaps now he might truly understand why the vampire had not been filled with the same awe as Dorian's court and subjects. Those chairs that represented their sovereignty paled in comparison to Britain. For nearly a year now, Sebastian had attempted to convince the Monarch that some updating, at least of those thrones, as surely in order. If anything would convince his lover of this, it was the sight of what other modern countries had in comparison. His husband's insistence that those thrones made him feel inadaquate, however, only furthered the laughter upon his lips as Sebastian nodded in agreement. His lover's inquiry of who designed those thrones caused his eyebrows to furrow as that chuckle died upon his lips. Slowly, his head shook after several moments of careful thought. He had never, in those two hundred years of his own life, been told who had crafted those seats in the first place. They simply....had always been. "I'm sorry, love." He commented softly to Dorian's lamentations, only to follow the fae's gaze towards those thrones once again.

That request to touch the chair, however, caused the vampire to roll back upon his heels to glance down the empty hallway behind him. It was only that assurance that they were alone that caused Sebastian's head to bob in silent encouragement, insisting he hardly saw any reason why Dorian could not at least touch the golden-hued throne. A small simper toyed with the corner of his features at his lover's insistence that England was particularly good at winning wars - a fact that the Englishman was distinctly proud of. Nevertheless, his head bobbed ever so slightly as his crystalline gaze turned back towards the hallway once again. "I will, Ma Biche." He promised, keeping an eye upon his Monarch from the periphery of his vision. He watched as the King reached forward, his fingers caressing the arm of the chair with a hint of awe. His head bobbed ever so slightly at Dorian's inquiry. "I have, when Edward was King those few days, we were in here often." He responded quite simply. The vampire had spent...a great deal of time before those thrones, and some even beside them. He had inspected every inch of those golden chairs, his finger's gracing them on the rare occasion. They were...nothing short of utterly exquisite, even he could admit that.

The crystalline hue of his irises turned back towards his lover as Dorian returned to his side. His husband's insistence that his own throne room was at least bigger prompted a small snort from the vampire. Oh, if only his husband knew!! How things had changed since his youth! The courtroom had become significantly....smaller, the Queen herself no longer holding court quite in the same way royalty had within either his nor his husband's age. His inquiry of whether or not Dorian might desire to see the original throne room, however, resulted in an almost childish pout upon the fae's lips. He was hardly surprised by the King's desire to see that very room that Sebastian himself had spent a great amount of his time, much less the King's insistence that he might have to demolish half of the palace in some effort to best England. A chuckle left his lips before the vampire shook his head ever so slightly. "I am not sure such...drastic renovations are necessary, love." He commented, the Englishman hardly wishing to be the cause of Caserta changing so dramatically after over six hundred years. Nevertheless, the fae was quick to settle at his side as Sebastian led the way towards what had become the Queen's banquet hall. His gaze turned briefly towards the man beside him as Dorian commented upon the sheer wealth that accompanied every facet of the palace and the Monarch's hope that his university did not share this same perchance for gold. A warm simper crossed the Prince's features as his head shook ever so slightly. "I promise it does not. Naples is safe....for now."

Sebastian turned down another hallway, the vampire giving striking little thought to the portraits on the walls as he moved down those familiar rooms. It was curious, truly, how many years he'd spent within Buckingham throughout his life - enough so that the palace itself felt peculiarly like home. The sound of his husband's voice drew his gaze to one such portrait as they passed. "I was sixteen when I was presented to King Edward, afterward I was allowed to attend court and the debutant's coming out. Ah, this way." He led his lover through a large entryway, one that featured a grand piano beneath a magnificent chandelier. He led his lover through the foyer and into the ballroom itself, pausing at the threshold as he looked over the tables that were presently being set with such meticulous care. "This was the ballroom in my era....it was also used when Court was being held. Now the Queen uses it to hold state dinners...we'll be sitting over there tomorrow night." His voice was little more than a soft murmur, the Prince hardly wishing to disrupt the staff's efforts to see too last-minute affairs. He knew, after all, the amount of work that went into such banquets. Nevertheless, the vampire gestured towards the head of the table - the very place he knew was a seat of distinct honor beside British royalty, though theirs perhaps by right. How odd it was to consider just how much his seat had changed at that very table itself! His head shook slightly as the vampire pushed such thoughts away, for the moment, his crystalline irises turning with a hint of playfulness towards the Monarch beside him. "Not quite big enough to require a renovation of all of Caserta, is it?" Sebastian inquired with that ever-present simper.

Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

His Royal Highness, Prince of Italy