"Did you cut your hair?"
The youth receiving the man's words stilled. Silver pupils slightly quivered not in fear but surprise. He had only cut a small portion of the ending locks of his hair, and he didn't think it would be even noticeable. Furrowing his brows, Moulin didn't think it would be possible to lie in front of Hadrian. There wasn't even a good reason for him to lie. A corner of Moulin's lips lifted.
"A little bit, yes. It was part of a bargain."
When he heard this, Hadrian's eyes narrowed. Without breaking eye contact, he raised his chin. His hand reached out to
His hand reached out towards the youth's hips. Hadrian wrapped his hand around Moulin's waist and led him towards Emlen and Malyana, who was observing them intensely. The Lord's touch made Moulin squint his eyes. Inwardly, he predicted that Hadrian was going to question him further when they were alone. Hadrian's possessiveness was gradually making itself known no matter where they were. He didn't even care if Emlen was glaring daggers at him.
"You should have changed. Aren't you feeling uncomfortable?" Emlen asked when his little brother approached them. His desire to extricate Moulin from Hadrian's embrace was suppressed. Although he wanted to do so, Moulin seemed content being surrounded by the Lord.
"I will when we are finished." Moulin answered.
Clearing her throat, Malyana tapped her fingers on the table. She started, "Now that you are here, I suppose we should discuss the matters about your expedition. But before that, I believe you must hear about our plans with Gaclan."
Her eyes lifted, and a faint smile graced her red lips. She was wearing crimson robes embellished with intricate golden linings. Her blonde hair was braided, revealing her slender neck. Her clothes appeared more conservative than the previous garments that she wore. For some reason, Moulin sensed a sorrowful presence within her gaze. Truly, she was happy, but she wasn't satisfied.
She discussed the establishment of the new regime. Although it hadn't been implemented, it was already planned. The regulations and commands of the Orcan pride were abolished. For Accrius requested his own clan to remain within Gaclan, Nhero proposed to the rest of the leaders. The Pride was subjected to submit and offer their services for the betterment of the city and to obey every command and order tasked to them. Accrius had no objections, it was a merciful judgment, and he couldn't wish anything more.
The red palace was in no state to be abided by. The central region was collapsing, and once it fell, the rest of the regions would go down with it. They had no choice but to break down the sections that attached the palace to the cavern walls. They would rebuild the castle where every orc, human, and being of other races were welcomed. And while the hunt for the remaining villains within the city was progressing, the slaves were freed and offered fair and satisfying jobs. It would not be easy to achieve all of this as soon as they could, but Nhero and Malyana were determined to accomplish it.
"Your comrades are being treated within the courtyard at the east wing. Don't worry. They are safe. Fortunately, Accrius along with his friend had been aiding them during their imprisonment." Malyana assured. "They are well."
"You have my gratitude." Emlen said softly.
"It is we that should be grateful. None of this would have been possible without your help." Malyana slowly stood up from her seat. A familiar black snake with golden eyes was coiling around her arm. Its eyes blinked at Moulin with enthusiasm. Malyana continued, "If there is anything we can do for you, we will do our best to achieve it."
As Malyana and Emlen were conversing, Moulin gazed at the two before secretly looking up at Hadrian. When he heard that their people were recuperating within the courtyards in the East wing, he had the urge to go and visit. The youth wanted to catch up with the many familiar faces within the group. Also, he was worried about their well-being. Hadrian caught Moulin's sneaky gaze and lowered his head.
With an expectant look, Moulin's lips parted. "I want to visit the East Courtyard."
Hadrian slightly deepened his gaze on Moulin's lips before he replied. "Then I will come with you-"
"No need. I can go alone. You still have numerous things to discuss before we leave. Don't be so irresponsible." A smirk adorned the youth's amused expression.
Hadrian drew his brows together. After a moment, he sighed and leaned down to whisper in the shell of Moulin's ear. "Bathe with me when you return."
Silver eyes widened. Moulin abruptly drew his head back and covered his ear with his hand. A flush enriched the curve of the youth's ears. It looked as if he was doused with steaming warm water. His eyes glanced at his brother and Malyana before eyeing the amused man in front of him. Silver eyes narrowed. "Behave yourself."
A chuckle made its way out of Lord Hercullio's throat, and it caught the attention of two conversing people within the room. When Emlen and Malyana glanced at them, Moulin straightened and coughed. He excused himself from the room, wearing a neutral expression. Before he left, Hadrian gave him one meaningful look that aroused the heat within Moulin's chest.
He couldn't refuse a bath. Moulin needed it so bad. He smelt like dirt and blood. It didn't help him focus at all. His steps echoed within the corridor.
He wasn't familiar with the castle's layout. Thus, it took him almost an hour to reach the specific courtyard within the eastern part of the palace. His figure emerged through the arched entrance, and he was met with the welcoming sight of tents surrounding the vast enclosed area. People were streaming through the pathways. Mostly, he saw injured people being supported and carried into the tents. There were no signs of the orcs from the Pride. Moulin figured they were still held and restrained until all of them regained consciousness.
Several people had paused the moment Moulin emerged from the archways. The youth didn't bother to notice them and began to search for his people. He went to ask a person and was gladly shown the way.
Heading in front of a large tent, Moulin thanked the good lad and entered through the flaps. His nose met the strong scent of medicine and herbs. Ropes dangled in the air, and some hung close to Moulin's face. With his hand, the youth pushed a few away.
"Moulin!"
Ghana's voice sounded throughout the tent, and it caught the attention of almost all of the occupants within the tent. Numerous whispered his name, and they drew near the entrance and made way for the white-haired young man. Moulin revealed a soft smile to the small crowd. His eyes brightened when he saw Ghana, which squeezed through the sea of people.
The woman clapped his shoulder with a smile, "You're here."
"I had some time," Moulin said before he looked around. "Is Colahn here?"
"The seer? Yes. Come and follow me." Ghana led him through one of the compartments of the tent.
The warm light from the lantern placed in a flat stone illuminated the room.
There was a pile of blood-stained cloth placed on the ground beside a basin of water. Four people were staying within the room. The older of the three was tending the injured leg of one of the twins. The female maeruthan and the other twin raised their heads the moment Ghana and Moulin entered the room.
Colahn paused and abruptly turned his head. In the process, he accidentally pressed on the bruise on Tyve's calf, making the man yelp in pain.
"Moulin," Colahn muttered, ignoring Tyve's accusing stare.
"How are you?" Moulin revealed a soft smile as he took a few steps closer to his old friend.
Colahn couldn't help but blink and sigh. The presence of the youth surprised him again. Suddenly, he felt conscious of himself. "We are well..."
"I'm not." Tyve groaned, and he gave Moulin a pitiful stare. "Do you still have more of those healing salves and tonics?"
Before Moulin could answer, Troid spoke in a berating tone. "You don't need those. Your injury can heal by itself. You're a damn maeruthan."
"But it still hurts." Tyve frowned.
"Then you should've thought twice before attacking the guards!"
Confused, Moulin turned to the amber-eyed woman who approached him and answered his thoughts.
Tessley sighed, "A few days ago, he confronted the orcs guarding the slaughter room. They took him away and broke his legs. They kept doing it until the next day."
Moulin's eyes widened, and he abruptly shifted his attention back to Tyve.
"Hey! They were planning to fucking eat us!" Tyve defended.
"Mn, you were courageous..." Troid nodded. Then he continued, "...and dumb."
"You little f-"
While twins began to throw insults at each other, Moulin chuckled softly. The twins were still as close as ever, even after eight years.
"Moulin..."
Moulin turned his head to Tessley. He was surprised when the woman suddenly wrapped her arms around him, embracing him. Blankly, the youth glanced at Ghana, who only shrugged at him.
"I'm glad you're safe..." Tessley said before she pulled away. "We thought we really lost a promising member of the guild."
Moulin furrowed his brows, and a droplet of guilt landed in his heart. There were so many people who deserved an explanation of his return. However, he knows this wasn't the right time to explain it to them. Their journey wasn't finished, and they still had a lot to go through. Time was running, and weeks were left before they could save Helios.
Moulin spent several minutes within the room before he excused himself. His seniors understood, and Colahn reluctantly watched him leave the room. As Moulin excited the tent with Ghana, he asked.
"Where's Jagra?"
"Sleeping. He fell right on the cot before the moment he went in the tent." Ghana pointed at the tiny tent surrounded by large ones. It looked as if it was squeezed in the middle of the tents like a sandwich.
Ghana wanted to accompany him, but she was needed back in the ten. Moulin didn't mind that he would visit alone, and he sent her off.
"Jagra?" Moulin slowly entered the tent. The noise beyond the tent slightly lessened.
"Is he still sleepin-"
Moulin abruptly stopped in his tracks. His silver eyes widened slightly.
Before him, the man's eyes were constricted, riddled with fear and terror. Jagra was breathing heavily as he sat on his bed. His fingers curled tightly around the fabric underneath him, threatening to tear.
He was trembling as if he had just witnessed the most terrifying thing he had ever seen in his life. Too overwhelmed, he didn't even realize Moulin was standing near him.
Immediately, Moulin approached him. "Jagra?"