Moulin suddenly felt flustered but his face remained slightly surprised by his brother's question. Turmoil rolled inside his chest as he kept his expression as still as possible. He thought about Hadrian who was perhaps reading through all the books he had collected inside his bed chambers. Moulin didn't sense boredom in the man's expression. In fact, before Moulin left to accompany his mother, he caught the faint reluctance in Hadrian's face when the lord sat on his bed expressionlessly. The scene was particularly... adorable.
Moulin resisted a smile.
He was unaware of the intent gaze of the young lord sitting across him. Maxille didn't miss the faint redness in Moulin's cheeks and the youth's urge to not smile in front of him.
All these little details set a bomb inside Maxille's head. Gray eyes tremble and he swallowed nothingness while he tried hard to keep a natural expression.
What? What is this? What was he witnessing?! Why was his brother acting like this? L-Like the curse of youthful love has fallen upon him! No, this is not true! Impossible!
Who is the bastard you dare covet his brother's interest!
A particular Hercullian lord slightly frowned as he read his book when he sensed something odd. He only narrowed his eyes on the two little pups who were obediently sitting before his feet. Snow and Keir lowered their heads with regrettable expressions. They shouldn't have suddenly jumped on the man when they were chasing around. The two whimpered.
Maxille stretched his smile wider. His eyes were dark and analyzing. "Why the sudden silence, youngest brother?"
Moulin flinched. He lifted his gaze and gave his first awkward laugh. "Haha, what nonsense are you talking about, eldest brother? Unfortunately, there is no one good enough to suit my taste in suitors. I believe every person in my guild doesn't interest me." The youth warmly smiled at his brother
Maxille slightly narrowed his eyes.
There. Is. Someone!
"I see... " The young heir returned a warm smile. However, be was far from ending the topic. With deep gray eyes, he glanced at the elegant blue ribbon that contrasted greatly to Moulin's lovely white hair. He wildly remembered every single hair tie and accessory in Moulin's wardrobe and he doesn't recall something as plain as a simple blue ribbon in the collection. Suspicion filled his eyes. He could be wrong but he needed to know.
"That is a lovely ribbon. Is it a gift?"
Moulin paused. He lowered his gaze and stared at the blue ribbon that tied his braided hair. The golden linings on its edges made it look elegant yet simple. It was the ribbon Hadrian had prepared for him one morning during their time in Thundrall. The ribbon made Moulin recalled the hot unforgettable night before that morning came. A faint blush stretched across Moulin's cheeks. He appeared like a youthful man realizing the first taste of love.
The scene sent the bomb in Maxille's mind to explode. It concluded Maxille's assumption.
T-This... can't be happening!
"It's a gift from a friend, brother." Moulin snapped out from his trance and he turned his gaze away to admire the exquisite leaves hanging meters above their heads.
Friend? Maxille frowned. He was no fool to fall for such words. Moulin was definitely hiding that person from them. However, Why? Before, he was such an open pursuer to his previous fixation, Quade Accrius. He had told every single one of his family how he would not live if that fake man couldn't be his. How come he changed?
Then Maxille paused.
How could Moulin not change? After the shame and humiliation and he had carried because of that man, after the dreadful life in the freezing northern mountains, How could Moulin not change? He had grown more mature and sharp. He had awakened his powers. And it seemed that every expression on the youth's face carried a deep meaning in them.
Perhaps, it didn't matter if Moulin changed. His youngest brother had grown into a fine Aphrodite, any man would be a fool not to be attracted by Moulin.
Maxille frowned.
The thought made him wonder what kind of man Moulin was currently interested in? What sort of person was he?
Gray eyes narrowed sharply. Perhaps he is a worthless philanderer, a con-man, a useless bastard who uses his looks to lure his precious little brother. A perverted asshole whose arrogance would reach the sky.
To tempt his sweet little brother who was naive to love, that man must be a trickster!
The trickster Hadrian: ...
The once again naive Moulin: ...
"Eldest brother?..." Moulin furrowed his brows. Maxille's expression didn't look right. Was it because of something he said? Did he find it suspicious? Moulin narrowed his silver eyes.
Maxille slowly gave a smile to Moulin. It was tough to decipher the meaning of that smile but Moulin could only perceive that Maxille was indeed acting strange.
"Little brother, you have grown indeed..." Maxille slightly tilted his head. His profile was most attractive in this angle yet it was also the most difficult to understand. Suddenly, he waved his hand, and a gust of cold wind surrounded them.
The youth slightly closed his eyes as he felt the wonderful coldness on his body. His lashes fluttered when he gazed at the dancing leaves of hanging golden vines. The rustling of leaves sounded pleasant in his ears.
When he returned his gaze to his brother, his eyes met the astonishing shimmer of an ice-petaled rose. The glisten of its glass-like petals looked undeniably exquisite. Moulin blinked and he gradually lifted his gaze and noticed the warm smile that was plastered on his stern eldest brother's face.
Moulin helplessly accepted the rose with a smile, "How unusual of you, brother..."
"Why? Is it odd for an elder brother to hand a flower to his most precious younger brother?" Maxille chuckled
"But I am not your only younger brother. Emlen is here as well..."
Maxille frowned, "He's not precious."
Moulin laughed. The ice flower in between his fingertips sparkled under the daylight. The two continued to enjoy the morning with big smiles.
A few hours later, they decided to end their brotherly moment for Moulin remembered that Maxille still has some work to do. Being the next heir of a grand noble family was not something trivial. Although Maxille thinks it was, Moulin sternly objected and dragged his eldest brother out of the greenhouse, pushed him inside his office, and left him in the care of Maxille's right-hand man.
Maxille felt slightly complicated. The only people who were able to scold him like this were his mother and Moulin. He glared at his subordinate who was restraining a laugh.
Ah, it was good that the third young master came back...
......….....
"Pola?..." Moulin called as he glanced at the windows. He was casually collecting a few more books in the library for Hadrian who had turned into a bookworm. His silver eyes curiously stared at the servants who were carrying cylinder paper lanterns. The pair of females were giggling coquettishly on the courtyard as a couple of knights walked by them.
Moulin tilted his head. The maids weren't wearing their usual uniforms. Instead, they were wearing blue dresses.
A thought entered Moulin's mind.
"You called, young master?" Pola's head popped out from the pile of books on the table. She was trying to list all of the books, Moulin would take to his room so she can arrange them to a shelf in alphabetical order. She convinces herself that none of her precious young master's actions had anything to do with the annoying man in her master's quarters.
"Tonight... Will be the first Ecklarian snow of Zenin, isn't it?"
"... I heard the first Ecklarian snow would fall in a few days or so." Pola blinked.
1¹1¹
"No, it will fall tonight..." Moulin corrected as he watched the maids scurry away sheepishly. His silver eyes gazed at the gray clouds blanketing the sky above the estate.
"... " Pola looked at Moulin in admiration. His master must perceive when the Ecklarian snowfall would occur! A master of ice and beauty, Indeed.
Moulin silently held the books in his arms as he stared at the sky beyond the crystal glass windows.
The Ecklarian snowfall was the fall of golden snow. It would only occur in the coldest places in Aurona. A myth was born from the rain of golden snowflakes. The wistful story of a man and woman separated by death. It was once said that the man was the god of ice and the woman, a human of poor birth. Their love was never meant to be for a God could live for thousands of year's and human life would pass in just a blink of an eye. Giving up immortality for a mere human would be blasphemous but this god proved the unholy.
However, by the time he turned human, the woman had perished. Stolen of time. Aged to death.
The despair could not be described. It was excruciating and pitiful. His lone figure was left to disappear as he accepted the punishment for the defilement of his godhood. But to the gods' and goddess's pity, his soul was left untouched. To bless the land the woman had loved. Who waited for him until death.
The fall of gold and tears from th sky in Aurona.
This golden snow is the sign of their eternity.
Such cliche' story had made Moulin grimace, but deep inside he longed for such love.
He wondered what would become of Hadrian and him if their relationship was exposed to the world. Numerous eyes criticizing them, and words denouncing them.
However, it was not like they were performing an irrefutable crime. Countless noble men and women weaved through aristocrats secretly in each of the imperial courts. Moulin was well-aware of this. However, Moulin and Hadrian weren't just ordinary nobles. They had reputations, carrying the name of their families on their shoulders. Hadrian's archnobility was carefully watched. He was the pillar of strength of sentinels and warriors. One would be a fool not to know about him.
Moulin shook his head. He turned away from the window and began to head towards the doors of the library. As he passed by Pola who was struggling to carry some of the books, Moulin spoke softly, "Pola, I have a request from you..."
"Anything, young master." Pola followed him out of the doors. Her heels energetically clicked on the marbled floors of the hallways.
Moulin glanced at her with a smile.
....................................
The sound of a thick book abruptly closed shut noised in the room.
Hadrian's pair of golden orbs deepen when he lifted his head. His tall figure stood before the open balcony of his beloved's room. The paleness of the weather brought a gleam of coldness on his stern expression. The golden rings within his pupils radiated with serenity.
It annoyed him. The emptiness of the room gave a lonely presence. It was dull without his fierce beautiful lover.
Perhaps, he could venture out for a short time...
Suddenly, he stopped.
A smile occurred to his face when the doors behind him opened. Moulin always appears at the right time.
Turning his head, he saw Moulin striding towards him with a smile. The youth carried two lanterns in his arms.
"Come and join me, My lord."