It was distinctly painful to dwell upon those memories of his wife for any prolonged amount of time. She had passed well before her time, of that he was certain and Sebastian was convinced that he had been largely to blame. He strove, distinctly so, to not speak of her, and yet, this time, Dorian seemed to allow that shift within the conversation. A soft, barely audible breath of relief left the Englishman's lips as his husband assured him that he was entirely unharmed, though it was hardly any thanks to Sebastian. He was...painfully aware of that promise he'd made to Dorian all those years ago, one he had distinctly faltered upon tonight. For now, however, he hardly bothered to broach that notion that Brennan had saved the Italian Monarch, the vampire far too...taxed to handle the inquiries and disbelief that would undoubtedly come from the knowledge of his lover's capabilities. His lover's sudden suggestion for bed was nothing short of utterly appealing. The evening had gone on long enough and Sebastian, in the wake of those emotions that still poignantly settled upon his soul, nearly longed for that daily death that took away on feasible thought or feeling. It was a somber desire, even for the Englishman and so he spoke little of it beyond that ready agreement.
Sebastian hardly expected that inquiry of Alfonso and Ferdinand. The topic entirely slipping his thoughts in the wake of that story he had so attempted to avoid recounting. In truth, the fate of Ferdinand meant strikingly little to him. After all the mortal man had died centuries ago and if the stories were to be believed, he had surely deserved whatever death had found him. For several moments, Sebastian remained silent upon the topic, only to insist he would like some clarification of what Alfonso had declared over and over again if Dorian wished to speak of it. He watched in pensive silence as Dorian's entrancing silver irises turned towards the floor in a look he knew well - his King a perfect mirror of himself, but moments prior. That sentence he was offered was hardly more than a syllable before silence once again began to persist between the two, though Sebastian made no effort to break it. He was aware, naturally, of the way the very topic had an effect upon his husband. The fluttering of Dorian's heartbeat entirely audible to the vampire within the otherwise poised quietness, the thrumb of it gently vibrating upon his finger.
It was not surprising, perhaps, that Alfonso had placed his father on a veritable pedestal, after all, he was believed to have been the sort to follow directly within the Italian King's footsteps as his firstborn. His disposition was entirely similar to that of his father's. Of this, Sebastian knew. He had, after all, done some level of research on the family that he married into, even if those players were long since deceased and lost to time. It was out of curiosity of the life his husband had left before that had provoked it and so, in truth, he was unsurprised to learn of those drastic differences of opinions between Dorian and Ferdinand. His husband's usual eloquence sputtered off, his voice softening with each spoken syllable till that admittance was little more than a hushed whisper. He....stabbed Ferdinand? Sebastian was utterly silent in the wake of that admittance, that distinctly unusual pitch within his husband's tone hardly going unnoticed even as Dorian apologized for failing to speak of this ever before and yet, his mind still struggled to comprehend that initial declaration that his dear, sweet fae King had stabbed his step-father.
For a very, very long moment, that silence persisted in that otherwise destroyed room, the dark navy hue of Sebastian's gaze merely staring at his lover, completely void of any truly discernable emotion. He struggled, truly, to imagine his husband angry in the first place, much less enough to resort to violence. Dorian - the man who was terrified of a cricket, the man who had run from half of the childish scares in the cornfield during Halloween...that Dorian...capable of such a decidedly messy and personal murder? His eyebrows rose ever so slightly in consideration, the vampire certain that whatever had transpired to result in his King stabbing his step-father had surely been...far more complicated then his lover made it seem. The devil was always in the details. It took another moment or two before Sebastian remembered he was supposed to offer his husband...well, any sort of response. His usual flawless manners heavily faltering tonight. A soft breath left his lips as he stepped forward, taking up that role that he had largely failed at the entirety of the night. His arms gingerly wrapping around his lover much in the same way Dorian had previously done to him. Sebastian's head leaned forward, his lips pressing gingerly against Dorian's forehead. "It was a long time ago, Ma Bichette." He muttered softly, the vampire making no move to release his lover as he let that silence persist for several moments longer, only for one final query to fall from his lips. "What were you arguing over?"
His Royal Highness, Prince of Italy