Chapter 193: Tell Me, Tell Me...

There was no loose seam. No stretched portion. It looked completely untouched, except for the little bloodstains that appeared because of the little wounds on the youth's hands. He had struggled to shake off the force of the scythe's slash with his bow of ice. Unfortunately, the force was so strong, the ice dug into Moulin's palms, piercing through his skin.

With a relieved smile on his serene face, Moulin slowly lifted the delicate blue ribbon and elegantly tied up his hair. His eyes stayed low. Internally, he resisted meeting Emlen's face. 

Slowly, the smoke dispersed and the area was revealed. 

The ground was clean from snow. A dark layer of the soil met the gentle fluttering snowflakes falling from the gray sky. A huge triangular crater gaped before the snowfall and the two brothers were standing within its center. Their boots stepping on the slightly warm earth.

"Moulin..." 

Emlen called out with a trembling voice. 

The youth flinched. His slender brows furrowed and slowly he lifted his gaze. Hesitant silver eyes met miserable gray ones. Moulin's anger wavered. 

"I'm sorry-"

"Brother..." Moulin interrupted with uncertain eyes. "Please don't deny it... " He softly spoke with furrowed eyebrows. Worry and ambiguity in his expression were evident. 

Emlen paused. "What?"

"You are troubled... And clearly, it is because of me..." Moulin declared as he slowly stepped backwards.

Emlen hastily shook his head, "I'm not..." He stopped when Moulin stared at him intently. His words then refused to escape his mouth as if there was an invisible needle sewing his lips shut.

Pain... There was pain and worry in Moulin's eyes. He didn't miss it. 

The youth only stood still and waited for his elder brother's response. Moulin's heart thundered in anticipation as he waited.

"Yes... " Emlen lowered his head. "I am deeply disturbed, anxious, and worried..."

"Why? Can you tell me? If you do, you won't feel afraid anymore..." Moulin spoke. "Tell me..."

"I cannot..." Emlen frowned with closed eyes. "I cannot tell you..."

Moulin's comforting smile fell. "What?" 

He abruptly clenched his hand and winced at the pain. Moulin knew there were wounds on his hand but he didn't care. Emlen, however, noticed the youth's reactions and hastily stepped forward to inspect his little brother's hand. 

Seeing the scraped skin on the youth's delicate palms, bleeding and shaking, Emlen felt as if a sword had pierced his heart. His breaths shook. "I'm sorry for hurting you, Moulin. It is all my fault..."

Moulin snatched his hand away and glared at his brother. The anger returned and he clenched his jaw. Silver eyes flashed with fierce animosity. "If you do feel sorry for your actions, you will tell me what you are terrified of telling me! Why can't you tell me?"

Moulin took a step backwards and clenched his fists. "You are troubled because of me, aren't you? If you tell me then perhaps I can repent. I can fix it."

Emlen exhaled. "But can you really?"

"What?"

"Can you discard all of it for me and your family?" Emlen pressed unfeeling eyes. "Turn your back on everything you have hidden to come back to us?"

Confusion filled the youth's face. Moulin's lips quivered, desperate to know the truth behind those words. "What do you mean?-"

"This!" Emlen abruptly reached out for the ribbon that tied up Moulin's hair. Curls of silvery strands bounced on the youth's slender shoulders when the hair tie loosened. Moulin's eyes widened and anger and hopelessness flooded his heart. Silver eyes watched with wide eyes how Emlen pulled off the blue ribbon from his hair. 

The man looked at the blue lace with scorn. "For this measly thing, you even wavered and risked your life to save it? How much do you treasure this?" His hand closed in a tight grip.

"What are you- Please... Give it back..." Moulin swallowed as he asked. His lashes trembled as he stared at Emlen. 

Emlen took in a sharp breath. His eyes absorbed the despairing look in those bright silver pupils. His comforting tone could comfort even the most melancholic maidens but it didn't work on Moulin."Brother... Don't get too attached to such worthless material. Tell me... How could this thing be more important than your own life?"

"Please... return it to me..." Moulin lowered his tone. 

Emlen furrowed his brows. "Is it that important? Did... Someone special offered this to you? Is that the reason why?"

Moulin forced himself to remain calm. What would Emlen know? He doesn't know anything. What could he know? Why is the compelling me to answer these questions?. 

...

Suddenly, dread filled Moulin's heart when an assumption rose in his thought.

Did he...

"Moulin!"

The youth's thoughts were interrupted when a familiar voice called out his name from afar. Slowly, Moulin shifted his gaze and saw Maxille's figure approaching them. The man's gaze was sharp as he assessed the ruined environment. He could sense the faint ambiance of mana lingering within the air. 

Moulin returned his gaze to Emlen who was quietly staring at the ribbon in his hand. 

The youth pressed his lips together before he spoke.

"Please... Give it back..."

Emlen stared at him for a couple of seconds before he sighed. He gripped the ribbon one last time before he opened his palm and slowly handed the ribbon to his little brother.

In an instant, Moulin abruptly took the ribbon and then turned his heels. He fled with while clenching the bloody ribbon in his heart. Maxille went to stop him, however, Moulin only shook his head and ran past him. The eldest brother confusingly turned his head and watched as the youth ran further away from him with a lowered head. 

It pained him to see the depressed expression Moulin wore. 

Outrage flashed in his piercing gray eyes. He abruptly turned his gaze, eyeing the dazed Emlen standing in the middle of the crater. With long strides, he neared his brother and glared. 

"What do you do?"

"..." Emlen drew his eyebrows together with a miserable grimace. He could never lie to Maxille.  They were always like that. "We... were sparring and I hurt him..."

"I believe there is something even deeper than that measly excuse, Emlen." Maxille narrowed his eyes. He coldly glanced around them. "A spar? And you were bold enough to use your sacred weapon against Moulin? Do you want to kill him?"

Emlen's eyes turned bloodshot. He whipped his head towards Maxille and snapped. "I would never!"

"Then why?..." The heir slightly raised his chin as he began to read his brother's expression. His gaze was as cold as ice. "Why did you dare to raise a blade to Moulin? Do you hate him? Are your emotions that uncontrollable... You vented your emotions carelessly without a thought to Moulin."

Every word struck Emlen's heart. The man clenched his hands and gnashed his teeth, "You're telling as if I'm the problem here..."

"Then is Moulin the problem?" Maxille scoffed.

"..."

Emlen lowered his head. "No..."

"I will hear about this in my office. If you even dare miss out on anything, then I will avenge our youngest brother without mercy..." Maxille coldly spoke. He turned his head and started to walk away. 

Emlen pressed his lips together. He lifted his eyes and looked at his eldest brother with hopelessness

"Brother..."

Maxille paused. He turned his head.

"I want to talk to you about something..." Emlen voiced out hoarsely. "I really... don't know what to do..."

The young lord ceased his movements and faced Emlen. It was the first time Emlen had asked him with such a helpless expression. Somehow, it made Maxille worried. With an expressionless look, he nodded. 

"Let's talk in my study."

........................................

"Huff... Huff... Huff... " 

Lips opened, struggling to catch a breath. The heels of his boots clicked on the hallways as the youth ran. His loose silver hair swayed as he moved with hastened steps as if he was being chased. 

"Huff... Huff... "

When the passing servants saw his figure, they instantly bowed their heads even after Moulin just ran past them. Their expressions were confused. The third young master always behaved calm and unhurried. Did something happen?

After several minutes of running, Moulin finally came back to himself. His steps gradually slowed down. With uncertain eyes, he walked slowly. His heart, pounding endlessly inside his chest and his fingers slightly quivered as he gently held the ribbon within his hand. He swallowed dryly with half-closed eyes. 

He was anxious and flustered. His mind was in chaos as he tried to decipher his second brother's words in his head. Every single one of them meant something...

Moulin slowly lifted his hand and loosened his fingers.  The blue ribbon resting on his palm was already stained red from the blood on his hand.

Moulin was saddened. The ribbon was soaked with his blood. It looked filthy...

Moulin didn't realize he had halted his steps. When he raised his gaze, his helpless eyes slightly widened. 

He was right before mother's room... 

Moulin's eyes softened. He didn't know he had subconsciously headed towards his mother's room. Truly, he wanted to talk to someone and confide them about his problems. Currently, Hadrian wasn't here when he needed him.

Would mother listen to him?

Moulin furrowed his brows and shook his head. No, Mother should be resting at this moment. He shouldn't disturb her...

With a heavy heart, Moulin turned around and achingly tried to calm his mind and his heart. 

Suddenly, the doors behind him opened with a creak. A soft voice gently called.

"Moulin?"

Footsteps halted. Moulin flinched. After a couple of seconds, he hesitantly turned his head.

The sight of his mother's surprised expression slightly calmed him. 

Lady Maxiel knitted his brows. She had sensed Moulin's presence beyond the door. She thought her precious son was here to visit her, however, Moulin turned around began to leave. She felt that something was wrong and when she finally had a look at her son, her intuition was right. 

Moulin looked like a mess. And his expression... 

The lady sighed and gently reached out for her son. "Come inside, Moulin."

Moulim hesitantly hid his hands and lowered his head. "Mother..."

Lady Maxiel's eyes softened. Her son looked adorable when he tried his hardest to refuse her but internally couldn't. 

"Come inside. Moulin. Tell mother about your worries..."

At those words, the youth felt his heart warmed. The overflowing sensation that hope had come to save him filled his chest. He smiled with reddened eyes and nodded. 

"Okay..."