A Gorgeous White

Chapter 401: || || Be strong, Have Faith

  "I sensed another person's aura within your quarters. Whose is it?"

Moulin paused, staring straight. What kind of question was that? Wait... Was it that odd man who jump off his balcony?

Moulin spread his awareness. However, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't sense a hint of the lingering aura the Morfaer left within the area.

"Whose is it?" Hadrian asked again. This time, in a much deeper tone. It yanked Moulin out from his thoughts.

"Someone unfamiliar." Moulin began, feeling a bit confused in his heart. He truly doesn't want to try and keep anything from the man embracing him. So slowly, he explained the strange event that occurred in his room at noon before his brother arrived. His words are concise as he told, leaving nothing amiss. Although, he had forgotten his anger and confusion now, the event wasn't as insignificant when he remembered it once again. 

A stranger using his quarters as he pleases. Of course, anyone would be livid.

"I see." 

Moulin heard Hadrian whisper and missed the coldness growing within the lord's eyes. The man let go of him, restored to his calm handsome appearance. However, Moulin could sense something amiss. Before he could pursue his suspicion, his stomach grumbled. Moulin's face reddened, internally berating his impatient gut. Shaking his head and smiling amusingly, Hadrian stepped away and pulled the cord. Not long after, a few people poured into the room and the scent of food filled the young man's senses. 

"Come, let's eat." Hadrian took his hand and lead to the arranged table for two. 

At this time, Moulin silently praised his man's attentiveness as he filled his stomach. After his hunger was sated, Hadrian joined him to the bath where another type of 'hunger' was satisfied.

Under the night light, a tiny warm crystal floating above their bedside, Moulin's breaths are even and soft, tickling a certain person's heart. His silvery-white hair is spread out in curls, scattered all over the pillow, glistening exquisitely. A bare shoulder peeked out from the covers. He looked quite tame and fragile in his sleep. However, only within the eyes of the person lying beside him. 

A rough hand reached out hooking a finger to collect a few of the youth's white strands. They slid against his digits like delicate strings. Golden eyes narrowed. They are devoid of emotion. A dark slither of color seeped within his irises. He was oblivious of it. Perhaps, it was just an illusion. 

.......

On the following day, Moulin silently walked down the hallways. Concern painted his face and he was too immersed in his thoughts to be accepting all the greeting thrown at his way. His father suddenly summons his presence with unknown reason. Recalling how his father dismissed him and his brothers out from Phaelona's drawing room, Moulin could not help but worry about facing something unexpected. He predicts that perhaps, this has something to do with his father's discussion with Colahn and Phaelona yesterday. 

Arriving before entrance of a little garden his father frequently visits, Moulin turned to Pola. He smiled gently, "You may take your leave, Pola. Don't wait for me."

Pola blinked, "Yes, young master."

When she turned, Moulin stepped inside the garden. His footsteps clicked against the light-colored stones decorating the pathway. Light dappled on his figure as he passed through the line of trees and bushes obscuring the clearing behind it. Beautiful flowers met his eyes. They are breathtaking and fresh to the eyes. The area is silent other than the rustle of leaves and soft creaks of wood as the soft breeze passed through it. It felt as though Moulin was walking inside a large greenhouse. 

His steps slowed when he reached a small pavilion facing a pond beautified by tiny delicate flowers growing out of the water's surface. His steps didn't falter when he spotted his brother, Emlen and Maxille, sitting in the wooden chairs. His father called all of them, it seems. Moulin eyes settled on the elder calmly resting his hands on his cane as he sat silently. Lord Dontae's eyes softened at the sight of his youngest son. 

"Father..." 

"Take a seat, Moulin." Lord Dontae nodded. 

Emlen leaned back,exhaling deeply as he kept his eyes on his father. Like the rest of his brothers, he was curioused of his father's intention. Maxille lowered his gaze as he awaited their father's words.

"I agreed." The father calmly faced his three sons. 

...

Emlen sighed loudly and stood up. He raked a hand through his hair as he walked a few steps away. With furrowed brows, Moulin turned to look at second brother but Emlen did not face them. 

"Father... are you certain?" Maxille asked, mostly to clarify.

The patriarch shifted his attention to his eldest son. He nodded slightly, "Yes."

Emlen gritted his teeth and turned to his family. His voice is loud and sharp, "Then who will do it?"

"Emlen" Maxille warned, frowning.

"Father..." Moulin urged, sensing more in his father's words. 

Lord Dontae calmly looked at Moulin. He understood his son's expression well and he wasn't planning to keep anything from them for they were as concerned as he was regarding the problem. 

Seeing that all of his sons were waiting for him to speak, he continued. "I will do it. I will face the spirit alone today."

Shock crossed the three sibling's faces. 

The patriarch sighed, lowering his gaze. He had already expected their reactions. "You three are significant to the city. You are to live long, to meet more people, and to accomplish many great things. Possibly, end this blasted darkness.

The people need you. I am old and soon my life will reach its end. Perhaps, it sound unacceptable. However, it is as things are. I cannot have you take this risk for which will not only hurt me but to all who cherished you as well. I have lived my life and would not be any happier than to spend my last reaching for your mother."

Moulin wanted to speak, refute his words. However, he couldn't bring himself to. 

"You cannot be serious..." Emlen looked at him incredulously. "Father, this is-"

"I am informing you." The lord shook his head calmly."There is no place for your approval."

"Father..." Moulin lowered his head, wallowing in heartache. His hands clenched. "It is difficult to follow your wishes. We are already pained from our mother's loss. We do not want to lose you as well..."

"No..." 

Drowning in sorrow, Moulin helplessly looked at his father. Although he ached from the look of his sons, Lord Dontae revealed a gentle smile. "I will bring your mother back..."

His words aimed to assure his children. But it was far from the comfort they needed. Lord Dontae left not long after. He tire too easily and Maxille had to escort him back. 

Emlen and Moulin sat in silence. Their thoughts are too chaotic to speak. The breeze slipped under the roof, whispering to them as though in comfort. 

"We... can't lose him too..." Moulin muttered. 

A forceful sigh escaped Emlen's mouth. Anger is written on his face as he turned his head to his little brother. But then, he stopped. Without another word, he approached Moulin in quick steps, kneeling down before the chair to look at his brother's sorrowful face. All the anger and reluctance inside the older man's thoughts vanished in an instant.

Moulin's tears threatened to fall but he restrained himself from crying. His hands clenched so hard, his nails painfully dug into his skin. 

"Hey..." Emlen's voice softened as he held Moulin's shoulder. He wanted to tell him that everything would be alright but how could a lie help? Moulin was no longer a child. 

"This..." As much as Emlen want to disagree, his words could do nothing to change anything. Sighing, he smiled faintly. "This is father's choice... perhaps, living in a world without mother was too unbearable. We can't change his mind but... we can be there for him."

Moulin swallowed. Moisture pricked his eyes. He wanted to blame something just to ease the pain in his chest even a little. Just why?... Why did this have to happen?

Emlen could sense that Moulin was far from being comforted. He could only bring his brother into his arms, embracing him silently.

........

The doors to Seer, Colahn's workroom opened and a distinguished lord strode inside with ease. Colahn who was conversing with a worried Moulin paused, freezing briefly when he saw the new guest. The moment Lord Hercullio walked in, an oppressing aura coated the entire room. The lord himself looked unaware of it. His golden eyes seemed to prick Colahn's soul making the seer feel distressed. 

Colahn reluctantly met Lord Hercullios gaze. He bowed.

  "Your Excellency..."

Hadrian glanced at him with a slight nod before approaching the man beside the seer. It felt as though a switch was flipped and the cold impassive man turned into a warm lover before the youngest master of the Fraunces Family. Colahn swallowed, looking away, internally regretting not joining the rest in the other room. 

Hadrian neared Moulin and palmed the youth's pale cheek, whispering softly. "It will be alright..."

The youth released a shuddering breath. His dazzling silver eyes are glistening with moisture but no tears fell. He only nodded in response, leaning against Hadrian's touch. 

"Your Excellency..." 

A voice interrupted them. They turned to see it was Lord Maxille Fraunces. He tries not react from the pair's interaction and calmly continued. "We're ready..."

Lord Hercullio slowly shifted his gaze to Moulin. "Come, let's free your mother..."

A heart as heavy as boulder. It fell into the depths, falling endlessly. Moulin did not know what to expect. He only prayed he wouldn't lose another loved one. 

Be strong... Have faith...

Moulin breathed out, nodding lightly. "Okay..."

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