411: || Chapter 400 || Odd feelings

|| Chapter 400 || Odd feelings

|| Chapter 400 ||

The doors slammed open, startling every single soul within the office except one. The men murmured while the regal man, sitting silently at the long dark wood desk, lifted his head. Coldness filled his gaze as he watched the rude person, who also happened to be his younger brother, irately strode towards the table.

"Emlen..." Maxille narrowed his eyes. "I hope you have a reasonable explanation for interrupting us."

The latter scoffed, "Oh, I do, brother. But best have your guests leave. If they stay, I will not be at fault when they find themselves frozen to where they stand."

The men stiffened. His words sent a frightening chill down their spines that they could not help but tremble. None of them have not heard about the second young master's high temper. Although, he had not hurt a single person in the Three Towers, his punishments were severe and terrifying. Maxille found that he could not appease his brother's current fury so he lifted a hand to the rest of the people in the room, dismissing them without uttering a single word. Even his right-hand man left his side. The people scurried out of the office, hastily closed doors, and nearly tripped as they filled the corridor.

Once the doors closed shut, Emlen's eyes turned cold.

...

"Ah!" A woman gasped as she stumbled. Fortunately, the person who bumped into her, caught her and helped her on her feet.

"Thank you-" 

Her eyes widened once she realized the identity of the person who helped her. The famous enchanting aphrodite warrior in the Three Towers. Entranced, the people around her paused and stared at the youth.

Moulin furrowed his brows as he glanced at the doors. "My brothers?"

"T-They're both inside," stuttered the woman as she pointed with a trembling finger.

Moulin nodded to her before he approached the door. Heads shook in refusal, afraid that the young man would have to face his brothers' fury. However, Moulin only smiled at them before grasping the ice-cold door handle and entering the room. A fierce frosty breeze slipped through the opening making the people outside shiver.

When Moulin entered, he is greeted by his brothers' bitter gazes and the insane coldness within the room. The youth could not help but tilt his head slightly under their deep looks.

"Moulin... why did you follow me?" Emlen sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He decided to quell his anger before his youngest brother.

"I was worried. Were you two fighting?"

"We weren't-"

"Yes, we were." Maxille interrupted Emlen and gave him an indifferent look. "Moulin is not a child. You can't fool him, brother. When do you learn?"

"You..." Emlen seethed. His fists clenched until his knuckles turned pale. The anger in his eyes seemed it would explode in any second.

"Brother..." Moulin worriedly called.

Fortunately, Emlen heeded to his call. The man clenched his jaw and left the room in frustration. His heavy footsteps could shake the room and Moulin could feel it even when Emlen walked down the corridor. He could imagine the fearful looks of the people waiting outside, terrified of the Maeruthan Lord cursing under his breath as he left.

Maxille sighed. The cold look on his face thawed, replaced by concern and distress. Moulin worriedly approached his brother silently.

"I'm sorry, you had to witness that. Even I cannot ignore his ire all the time. Emlen is relentless and difficult to persuade. His temper is fearsome and I fear if he keeps talking so unruly, I might rip off his tongue from his mouth. I'm glad you came just in time. I'm sorry, your brothers are such immature children." The man at the desk revealed a faint smile.

"Why are you apologizing to me? I haven't even joined the fight before it ended so suddenly." Moulin chuckled, shaking his head. 'And your words are as fearsome as Emlen's, dear brother.'

Maxille paused, processing his brother's words. He leaned back on the chair and chuckled softly. "Yes, such a pity indeed."

Moulin smiled at his words. Noticing the way Moulin was hiding his hands behind him, Maxille spoke.

"What do you have there?..."

"..."

Moulin slowly lowered his gaze. "It's from brother Emlen's office..."

"Show me..."

The youth furrowed his brows and unhurriedly revealed the documents he hid. He carefully placed them before his eldest brother's serious eyes and withdrew. "It's the reason why you were fighting, isn't it?"

"Have you read it?" Maxille didn't meet Moulin's gaze.

Tilting his head Moulin gave him an Isn't-that-obvious look.

Sighing, Maxille nodded. "It's nothing important."

"Is it? You do know that demons exist, brother. Worshipping devils isn't something unrealistic. There are gods and there are terrible ones as well."

The man nodded, carefully listening to every word his little brother said. His finger tapped on the stack of paper. "Moulin... these people haven't done anything horrible yet, and we cannot apprehend them without evidence. What did this say about what these devil worshippers did?"

The skin between the youth's brows creased. "They've... been recruiting people for secret meetings and spreading false stories and legends. But don't you think we must be cautious?"

Maxille's calm gaze met his little brother's concerned eyes. If Emlen was faced him with a stubborn and fiery gaze, Moulin's look was calm like an untouched lake beneath the moon. Between the two, it was certain to whom he would give in easily. Exhaling, the eldest brother revealed a helpless smile.

"If it truly troubles you, then I can request to increase the amount of guards within the districts. We'll conduct an investigation. Perhaps, we can unearth something worth detaining them. 'Only' if we find proof."

Relieved, Moulin nodded, "Of course, brother."

Maxille still needed to continue his meeting with the lords who were forced out of the room. Thus, Moulin politely excused himself and told the people that they were finally free to enter. The men and women thanked him. Fortunately, the third young master came just in time before the conflict between his two older brothers grew uncontrollable.

Steam rose from the water, surrounding Moulin's slender frame. His long damp hair stuck to his skin, glistening beautifully in thick tendrils. Moulin leaned back, sighing comfortably as the warm air caressed the pale column of his throat. Droplets fell from his wet lashes as he closed his eyes. His face is flushed from the comfort he couldn't resist and the young man was oblivious to the enticing image he was showing.

"I'm glad you didn't wait for me." A deep voice echoed within the wide bathroom.

The young man smirked. Moulin didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was. "Pola brought me new lavender bathing oils. How could I resist?"

Hadrian's towering form stood at the edge of the steaming pool. His golden eyes are bright and magnetic as they fell on the alluring man relaxing in the water. Assessing Hadrian's body, Moulin kept his eyes on the firm pectorals peeking out of the lapels of Hadrian's robes. Moulin could see the lord's skin turn sweaty as the steam surrounded him.

The lord raised a brow before he began to untie the ties of his robes. He sank in he pool and slowly made his way towards Moulin who had shifted his eyes away, pretending to be unaffected by the man's presence. However, Hadrian could sense his embarrassment.

"..!"

Moulin gasped when strong arms abruptly pulled him against a firm body. Water splashed around them.

"I heard you sent the Morfaer's successor to the beast tamers." Moulin heard Hadrian say as the man pulled him close. The white-haired young man leaned on the High Lord's bare chest as heat writhed between them. Their skin caressed each other intimately and the wetness only made it arousing.

"I did. I figured the man needed something to do. Well, he offered to be of help. How could I not take the opportunity."

Long fingers began massaging Moulin's scalp as he talked. His parents remained in their slumbering state and Colahn told him that the boy Moulin had took in had woken up. Now there was this concerning matter about 'Devil Worshippers.' Hadrian mostly listened as he took care of the lazy beauty in his arms. Soon enough, the younger man hummed softly while he immersed himself in his lover's touch. 

Suddenly, Hadrian stopped and buried his face on the place where Moulin's shoulder and neck met. He wrapped his arms tighter around Moulin. 

"Speak your mind, My Lord." Moulin said when he finally noticed Hadrian's strangeness. "What's wrong?"

"It's childish." Hadrian said but he met Moulin's gaze without hesitation. "... you wouldn't like it."

A frown formed on the youth's face. He urged, "Tell me..."

Golden eyes scrutinized Moulin's expression for a few seconds then the lord slightly withdrew, leaning back on the stone edge  of the pool with a calm expression. "Although I gave you the bracelet, I still feel uneasy."

"What?" Moulin blinked. He turned to fully face Hadrian. "I'm alright. I can communicate with you easily with a touch of the gem. I am strong enough to defend myself and I don't often go out unaccompanied. Furthermore, more sentinels will be patrolling the districts. There's really nothing to worry about."

Before Moulin's confused expression, Hadrian slowly smiled. He reached out too move the wet strands of hair on the youth's cheek. "I know. It was just a brief trifling feeling. I trust that you can take care of yourself. However... my insecurities cannot fade away so quickly. I had lost you once... and it could happen again. The people who sought to capture you several years ago are still alive."

Golden eyes narrowed coldly, "In Artheia, they almost succeeded and took a part of you."

'A part of me...'

Moulin unconciously glanced at his white arm. He felt hollow as his eyes traced the faint golden marks on it's pale surface.2

Hadrian leaned closer and took Moulin's chin between his fingers, letting the youth meet his stern eyes. "Even this city might not keep you from them. I only wish for your safety. I hoped to keep you here until I've hunted every last one of those demons. However, I don't want you to feel imprisoned."

The lord's voice deepened, "Be cautious for me and do not stray far from me. That is all I ask."

Moulin could not refute a word as he looked into Hadrian's solemn eyes. Silently, he nodded. Hadrian's eyes softened and he bent to kiss the youth's parted lips. 

"Don't stay in the water for too long. When you're done, join me in the bedroom." Hadrian whispered against Moulin's lips before he stood up from the pool and slipped the bathrobe on.

The man's footsteps echoed in Moulin's ears like a hyptonizing chant. It stopped after the doors shut closed. 

Blankly staring at the doors, Moulin leaned at the edge of the pool. And there it was again. The unshakeable odd feeling heavily filling up his chest. Hadrian cares about him so much. Sometimes, Moulin cannot help but feel like a burden to him. Slowly, Moulin sank in the water as he thought of Hadrian's words. The steam slowly disappeared as the water gradually cooled. 

...

A clinking sound noised within the dim and silent workroom. Revealed by the large window of the warm building was a man immersed in his research. His glasses glinted against the light as he lowered his head to get a closer look at the tiny gem held within his tiny tweezers. Not long after, Jagra pulled away and scribbled some words on the notebook at his right before returning his attention to the gem. He wrote some more and assessed the gem, repeating the process several times. 

Finally, he withdrew. He needed a break. Exhausted, Jagra took off his glasses and kneaded the bridge of his nose. Ah, he almost forgot to check the aphrodite boy. Wasn't it time for him to wake up?

Swiftly putting away the tools on his desk, Jagra made sure to remind himself that his work was far from finished. Stretching his arms, Jagra made his way to the door. He'll check the boy for a bit and then come back. Surely, it wouldn't take long...

But before his hand could touch the door handle, he paused. A strange feeling swept inside him and he couldn't help but look at the window behind him. The tree leaves rustled against the faint breeze.

"..." 

Jagra frowned before shrugging. Strange. For a moment, he felt as though something was watching him. Was it just his imagination? 

Suspicious, the man then left the room.

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