"My Lady!"
Moulin's gaze widened in surprise. Feeling embarrassed, he summoned all his strength to push Hadrian away. Hadrian, showing no particular interest, casually glanced at the woman standing by the doorway. His eyes, a deep shade of gold, held a terrifying intensity akin to two relentless suns.
Lady Klaria only observed with an intrigued look. Although she dared not anger the golden lord, the urge to tease the two was almost too much to resist. Her deep sea eyes t the white-haired young man who had barely escaped Lord Hadrian's embrace and faced her with an embarrassed look.
"Oh, do not mind . Carry on." She smiled.
Hadrian's frown deepened. "What do you want?"
"Ah. Well, if you are finished with expressing your affections, then may I talk with you for a short while?" She replied.
Moulin furrowed his brows. What did she want to talk about? Perhaps it pertains to the eting?
He witnessed Hadrian's eyes slightly narrow towards the female High Lord. The hand on his waist tightened a bit.
Hadrian lowered his gaze to Moulin. And before he could speak, Moulin spoke, "Go. I'll wait for you in the room."
"Stay with-"
"Stay with the guards, Yes." Moulin rolled his eyes with a chuckle before pulling away and heading towards the door. Hadrian helplessly watched his lover leave.
When the young man passed Lady Klaria, he gave a brief bow, which earned him a friendly wave.
What were they going to talk about? Moulin wondered.
Ordan and Tessley waited in the other room, but when he arrived, he only found Ordan. The man dutifully approached Moulin's side, assessing the young man's expression, before escorting him towards the door.
"Tessley went ahead to check the room before you arrived. She was adamant about it."
While they walked in the empty hallway, Moulin responded with a nod. "It seems she's still doubting Falowright's securities."
A corner of the man's lips rose. It made him look devilish. "Her wrath won't be restrained for long."
Silver eyes deepened. His steps were unhurried as he walked, oblivious to the grace in his actions. Falowright. The na of the stronghold was completely changed. He hoped there wouldn't be too much trouble when the Leonile Guild mbers from Helios arrived.
Moulin raised his eyes, observing the arched ceilings embellished with the royal family's symbol. His thoughts wandered toward the events of the eting.
His gaze narrowed ever so slightly. Prince Archaen appeared kindly and inviting, yet Moulin sensed an underlying motive concealed beneath his friendly deanor. Although Moulin remained uncertain of his intentions, he had a hunch that the man would soon take action and approach him. At that ti, Moulin would try to drill into his head.
The walk was silent. Each of their footsteps was in sync. But Moulin felt that Ordan was just trying to match his pace. And perhaps the man was thinking of letting him find peace after the battlefield that was the eting table.
Co to think of it. Ordan has been acting quite gently with him these days.
The youth secretly stole a glimpse of the taller man's side profile. He recalled his first eting with the lord when he was choosing a guild to join right after the guild trials. Guild Dragor was quite a prominent guild. Perhaps more famous than Leonile. To think that the Guild Lord of Dragor was none other than a subordinate of the Leonile Guild Lord. An informant to the Hercullio Archnobility.
He wondered how the people in Dragor had reacted...
Ordan remained calm as he walked but Moulin knew he had already sensed his gaze.
Ruby red eyes and auburn hair. Moulin had to agree... He looked handso as well.
Moulin looked away and shook off his thoughts. He hastened his steps a bit to walk ahead of the man.
The hallway was cloaked in a serene hush, the only sound being the soft echo of their footsteps against the polished stone floor. Moulin, exuding an air of grace and tranquility, walked with asured steps, his guard trailing silently behind him, vigilant yet unobtrusive.
Moulin was lost in his thoughts when he suddenly stopped. The lights around him had changed.
He had paused before a tall, majestic colored glass window. The dim light from outside and the bright wall lamps painted the glass with a kaleidoscope of colors, casting a gentle glow into the hallway.
The glass windows depicted none other than the elaborate symbol of the Auronian crown. It was intricately crafted. Each crevice was seamless, and the colored glass looked extrely enthralling against the dim, warm hues.
Moulin knew it would look more wondrous before the sunset rays.
Beyond the window stretched a tranquil river, its surface shimring.
Ordan stopped as well.
The young master and his guard stood silently, taking in the breathtaking view. Silver eyes reflected the serene beauty of the scene while his guard maintained a watchful gaze, ensuring their safety even in this mont of peaceful contemplation.
Moulin's expression softened.
His silence beca tranquil—sothing no one would dare to shatter.
However, everything broke when a sudden presence intruded on his solitude.
A pair of heavy footsteps approached them. Moulin furrowed his brows and turned his head towards the intruder.
A wide grin filled this vision.
"Your Highness..." The silver-eyed youth bowed elegantly before the nearing prince. His actions are fluid and enchanting.
Ordan also did his greetings, but not without vigilantly taking a step forward.
Prince Archaen was alone, and when he saw the pair, the smile on his face seed to brighten. His bright amber eyes glowed.
"It is a pleasure to see soone admiring my work." The prince spoke, gesturing to the colored windows.
Moulin paused. He smiled. "Your skills are of a master artisan, your highness."
"You flatter ." A hearty laugh broke out of the prince's mouth.
Moulin steeled himself but was careful not to let his emotions show as the prince stepped closer until he stood beside him. He cald himself and admired the glass window together with the royal.
"I am impressed by your resolve during the eting." Archaen suddenly opened. "You possess a righteous heart, my dear. A rare thing to be seen these days. I hope it stays that way until the end. Tough tis are ahead of you."
Moulin glanced at him, "Have you already made your decision?"
A chuckle. "And you are straightforward, too."
The Prince gave him a side-long glance. His voice is deeper as he replies. "I have not. Because I am looking forward to the strong front, you and the other lords will present to the table. How interesting the battle will be."
Moulin's eyes lowered slightly, "Do you find it... amusing?"
The prince grinned, "It amuses to no end. I find it even more thrilling now that we have a fresh participant in our activities. Tell , young lord. Do you tire of everyone viewing you as nothing more than a re broodmare?"
Moulin's eyes darkened. "Why do you say so?"
"You rejected my gift I prepared and instead wore these clothes before the lords. If it were any other person, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." Prince Archaen's smile is shown on the glass. "Had you worn it, I would have agreed to anything you had proposed."
Wrath surged in Moulin's eyes. "So you were testing . Your state of thinking is utterly unacceptable, your highness."
"Hm, do you loathe it? But there is nothing you can do about it, is there?" This ti, the crown prince turned to face the youth. There is mischief in his eyes and the passion to control.
Moulin slowly turned and faced him. Silver eyes revealed discontent, but his expression was calm.
His indifference fueled sothing deep inside Archaen. A fiery urge scorched his chest while he spoke with deep eyes. "But perhaps there is sothing that you can do."
"..."
The man didn't wait for the youth's response. In a split second, a telepathic link activated out of the blue, completely invading Moulin's thoughts.
The crown prince's voice echoed in his mind. "Be my person, and I shall grant all of your desires."
Moulin's pupils constricted. His consciousness was invaded without warning.
Before he could react, the link dissipated, freeing him from the resonating voice.
This man...
How dare he? Moulin's blood boiled.
"No," Moulin spoke between gritted teeth.
An eyebrow rose. The prince's smile widened as he stared at the aphrodite briefly.
Yet, the atmosphere suddenly chilled noticeably. The prince's golden eyes flicked towards the glass windows, which began to frost over.
"Well, it was worth a try..." Archaen sighed and turned to admire the frosted windows once more. He acted as though he had not done anything at all.
It only fueled Moulin's anger.
"Please calm yourself before you shatter my beloved work," Archaen sighed. "I was rely testing you. I know you wouldn't fall easily into my hands."
Silver eyes glead sharply like a knife's edge. "What are you trying to achieve, your highness? Are you seeking to use to provoke Lord Hercullio on your behalf?"
Prince Archaen paused. There was a shift in his expression, but it was gone before Moulin could discern it.
"The high lord is a very powerful person." Archaen began in a low voice. His eyes shone with hostility. "He commands more respect from the people than my own family. As much as I want to remove and teach him his place, the kingdom needs him. Not or the entire imperial household but him. I should have had him killed years ago."
"Can you even?" Moulin raised a brow. Inwardly, he wondered why the prince was telling him these things openly. Is this another way of convincing to join his side?
Prince Archaen scoffed and looked away. "As reluctant as I am to acknowledge it, I need him, too. These lands are dying, and I need every single capable person with to restore them. Our greatest ally is the High Lord."
"The kingdom shattered because of the Kron. So of the lords wanted to push their bla on you. But those old fools think too much about avenging themselves. Lord Magan is a good fellow, but you will have to try harder to force him into a corner. And my brother... It seems you have already ensnared him." He scoffed, unimpressed.
"Atleast, that's one thing you've accomplished."
Moulin listened silently, aware of the prince's scrutinizing stare fixed on him. It was uncomfortable, but Moulin wanted him to keep talking and reveal more of his thoughts.
However, he fell silent and abruptly extended his hand toward Moulin's face. Instantly, Moulin raised his hand to deflect the prince's gesture. His resolute silver eyes conveyed determination, and his movents were swift and decisive.
"I cannot be your pawn... or anything else." Moulin declared. "But if you want a cooperative and peaceful alliance with Helios and my... My fiance, you must conduct yourself appropriately. Otherwise, Your Highness, forgive for not showing rcy."
Fiance? The prince's eyebrows rose. Even Ordan, who stood by the side, froze.
"Hope of Aurona. Not only will you lose an ally, but you will lose the only person who can help you spread your na throughout Corhan."
Spread my na? The Prince's eyes narrowed, but Moulin continued.
"The Crown prince does want to purify the land, does he not? You aspire to be rembered in history as the monarch who liberated the realm from darkness." Moulin spoke, carefully observing the prince's expressions.
...
"My dear..." The Crown Prince smiled, "Do you truly not wish to bear my heirs?"
Moulin restrained his emotions from overtaking his expression. He only stared at the man with a frown.
Suddenly, a hand was inserted in the space between the two people. A certain person vigilantly stepped in front of Moulin. Lord Ordan narrowed his ruby eyes, scorching fiery flas against the lights, and spoke. "Forgive , Your Highness."
With a chuckle, the prince nodded and stepped back.
His deep gaze fell upon the silver-eyed youth. "I shall be expecting more surprises from you tomorrow, my dear. Do keep pleasing ."
Moulin furrowed his brows.
With those words, the prince smiled and turned to leave. His broad figure looked oppressive within the lonely hallways. Moulin was oblivious to the dangerous expression the man was wearing the mont he turned his back.
Once more, silence surrounded Moulin and Ordan. The mont they were finally alone, Moulin released a heavy sigh. He sounded as though he was freed from a very stressful problem.
Ordan sensed his exhaustion and escorted him towards his quarters. Moulin let himself be led away. This ti, their steps were a bit quicker, and they arrived in only a few minutes.
"What took you two so long?" Tessley said when she saw the two enter the room. "I was about to go and look for you."
"t a giant pervert."
Moulin, with a grim expression, spoke before heading to the bedroom. The door shut close, leaving Ordan and Tessley in the room.
"It appears his mood is sour. Did the eting not go well?"
Ordan gave a terse nod before speaking with a chilling tone. His gaze hardened as he uttered, "Encountered the crown prince, and he stirred up trouble."
"I had my suspicions about his character," Tessley remarked with a grimace, glancing towards the bedroom entrance. "Do you think his bad mood will dissipate by noon?"
"Why?"
Tessley sighed and turned to him. She helplessly spoke. "The mages will arrive later to take him for testing,"
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