Chapter 210: I Miss You

"Your family wishes to hear your voice..."

The winds of the seas were loud and forceful. However, the youth with dazzling eyes of silver could hear nothing. His ears were absorbing those words, and his mind, torturously slow, processing it with all its might—heartbeat quickens. A strangling sensation imprisoned his heart, but a river of relief and disbelief pours into its emptiness. Moulin could not believe what he was hearing. His small mouth parted, but no words were spoken. Not even a whisper.

His family wanted to hear from him again? What does this mean? Are they... Did they want to talk to him about something? Perhaps, question him? To once again reprimand him, is that it?

Or...

Did they just want to know how he was faring?

Moulin's pupils quivered. His heart ached. His departure from his home was most painful. He acted so arrogantly and confident before he left. Do they hate him?... 

Guilt filled Moulin's chest. Did he hurt them?

His thoughts ran chaotically. It filled his mind painfully, making him more and more distressed. It was Hadrian who brought him back to the present with his deep worried voice.

"Moulin?" Lord Hadrian said. The golden rings within his eyes deepened in color once he saw the distressed expression on his beloved's face. Quickly, he gently caressed Moulin's cheeks. The softness of the youth's skin glided on his rough knuckles. Hadrian helplessly stared at his lover, whose tears threatened to fall. "Are you not happy? If you don't want to, you can decline. They wouldn't blame you."

Hadrian explained softly. 'But of course, that would be more pleasing.'

"I..." Moulin furrowed his brows. The tremble of his fingers on the Lord's back was evident. "I... Why? W-Why do they want to talk to me?"

Hadrian exhaled. The worry on his eyes deepened. "I do not know... "

"..." Moulin clenched his fists. His gaze lowered while he pressed his lips together. He didn't know how to face his family. He didn't know what to say to them when he meets them again. Will his brothers give him those looks of disbelief and horror? Will his father be disappointed with him?

"They will not hate you..." 

Silver eyes widened at Hadrian's words. Moulin lifted his gaze to meet the lord's golden gaze. The wind whooshed past the balcony. Curtains fluttered, sun catchers twinkled, and the sound of crashing waves faintly noised. 

"They won't?"

Hadrian smiled. "How could they hate you? They love you so much. Don't worry..."

Slightly appeased, Moulin unblinkingly released a faint sigh. Although he was barely comforted, he trusted Hadrian's word. Moulin lowered his head and let the tall man embrace him, slowly relieving his heart.

After a moment of hesitation, Moment finally spoke. "When?..."

"Whenever you are ready..." Hadrian nuzzled his head in Moulin's hair, and he slowly stroked the youth's back. Moulin could not see his expression. An expression of cold indifference. "You will be communicating through the one of the relics in the treasury. They could not visit us, nor can you visit them..."

Moulin opened his eyes wide, and he lifted his head. "Why?"

Within a few seconds, Lord Hadrian Hercullio scrutinized Moulin's expression. He truly loathed the people that had captured Moulin's attention. Finally, he knitted his brows and sighed as if he could not bear to keep the answer any longer. "The Kron has breached the estate. Ten knights perished altogether a yesterday. The estate is restricted. Imperial sentinels have taken over."

"What?" Shock filled Moulin's expression. "H-How?"

Hadrian shook his head, implying how he was unknowledgeable of the answers Moulin wanted to obtain. 

"I-I... Talk to them now." Moulin's pupils quivered. Fear and worry filled his eyes. With an aching heart, he could not understand. His family's home was in unbreachable. His father and his brothers' awareness were infinitely sharp. They were more perceptive and guarded against the Kron than anyone else. How come such a crisis occurred?

Hadrian nodded. "I'll give the word to mages. But first, you must rest..."

Before Moulin could refuse, Hadrian had already carried him to the bed. He couldn't utter a single complaint when he was washed (again) and dressed in fine clothes. Afterwards, Hadrian abruptly disappeared in a flash before his eyes. Moulin blankly stared at the place where the man was standing. 

Not even a goodbye.

...

Moulin's eyes closed as he sat on the bed. The soft furs of the blanket tickled his palms. However, his expression remained neutral. Once again, he loses himself in his thoughts. Drowning his own consciousness into the river of questions and sorrow. 

"Ao?" 

Moulin slightly widened his eyes. Wearing a sad look in his pupils, he turned to his side where a particular snow-white fox and a little black wolf sat on their hind legs. The two softly whined as they sensed Moulin's dismay.

Moulin revealed a faint smile and wearily stretched out a hand. "Come here..."

Snow and Keir whined as they slowly approached Moulin. Their movements were slow, as if they were curious. Both settled in Moulin's lap, wrapped within the youth's soft embrace. Moulin lowered his head, his expression unseen, but one could notice the slight tremble of his fingers. 

Snow lifted his gaze. The worry and despair within his master's eyes were mirrored to Snow's identical ones. A curtain of wavy silver-white hair caged him and Kier. But they laid unmoving. Hoping to comfort their sweet and kind master.

Half an hour passed, but Moulin didn't have the strength to pay attention to the ticking glass clock by the crystal display. 

Suddenly, he heard faint footsteps. Moulin abruptly lifted his eyes and was caught off-guard when the man suddenly swoop down to claim his lips in a light, passionate kiss. 

Dazed, Moulin's stilled.

A chuckle left Hadrian's lips. The man narrowed his eyes as he revealed a smile. "Cheer up..."

"..." Moulin lowered his gaze on Hadrian's lips. He leaned slowly and pressed his lips on that smiling mouth. Eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. He kissed Hadrian as though to appease himself. His eyes were moist, but there was not a single tear that fell down his cheeks—bottling his emotions up. 

When he pulled away, Hadrian knitted his brows. There was a faint smile on Moulin's face. That smile alone made his heart waver. It felt threatening. 

Hadrian sighed as he carefully took Moulin's hand.

"Come, it's time..."

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

Footsteps echoed throughout the marbled hallways. A pair of people walked side by side with fingers interlocked. Inseparable and eternal. 

When they neared the gigantic door of heavy solid gold, smoothly, it opened to grant them entrance. Afterwards, they encountered three more entries in the same hallway. There were no guards to assist in opening those doors. It welcomed the presence of the Lord of the Golden fortress. 

Lined in rows, floating within a crystal barrier, were hundreds of rare artifacts and the most powerful relics never to be touched by the weak. They glistened, and a strong ambiance wafted from each of them. However, Moulin didn't spare them a glance. He was the least interested in those rare objects.

They arrived at the final door, A door more humungous than the doors they had entered. More sacred and intimidating. It didn't open as they neared, but Moulin watched as the prominent lord beside him raised his hand and swiftly pushed the doors open. With a creak, light peeked from between the opening of the doors. It grew larger until it flashed and receded.

Before Moulin's eyes, was an empty hall. Silver eyes roamed the area. The ceiling was soaring above his head. It was the largest room Moulin's had entered. No luxurious decorations, no furniture. There weren't even curtains that covered the high windows at his left. The daylight was free to pierce through the crystal panes and illuminate the grand floor.

And at its center, A tall elliptical mirror. It was uncovered and exceptionally clear, appearing embedded on the wall. It mirrored their approaching figures. 

Moulin moved forward. His steps sounded loud in his ears. Before he could even reach half the room, he stopped and turned to look behind his shoulder. Hadrian stood behind him with a smile.

He said, "Touch the mirror, and you can talk to your family. The treasury has recognized you as its guest, so you can return here as frequently as you want." His voice left echoes as he finished his words. 

Moulin knitted his eyebrows. "You won't accompany me?"

Hadrian's smile slightly fell. He adored the look of dependence on Moulin's face. With a soft voice, he spoke. "Unfortunately, Only one can enter this room for the mirror to activate."

When he saw Moulin's discomfort, the man chuckled lightly. "Don't worry; I will wait for you behind these doors."

Hearing that, Moulin relaxed. He watched as Hadrian turned and departed the room. The doors closed shut, and the silver-eyed youth was left alone in the emptiness of the bright halls. 

His sandals clicked on the glass-like floor. Slow and pleasing to the ear. As he walked, he passes through the beams of bright light from the windows.

Moulin was nervous. However, he knew he had to face his family somehow, but it was their reactions that made him want to turn away. Inside he had convinced himself that he had betrayed his family, and it haunted him. 

When he stood a step before the mirror, his eyes stared at his reflection. For a moment, Moulin felt as if he was staring at the original soul of his body. And faintly, his promise to him also resurfaced in his mind.

'I will love them in your place...'

Moulin closed his eyes and released an exhale. Slowly, he lifted his fingers and reached to touch the mirror. His fingertips gently touched the cool surface of the glass, and a faint light was emitted. It was brief, lasting for only a few seconds. 

Afterwards, Moulin left the light vanished. Gradually, his pupils peeked between his lashes. Hesitation. Worry. Nervousness. Anxiety. It all piled up within his chest.

"Moulin..."

The youth stiffened at the sound of the familiar voice. He could no longer contain the heaviness in his heart, and his eyes watered as he hastily lifted his head.

It was his mother's gentle countenance.

Longing spilled from her beautiful eyes. Her ash brown hair gently fell on her shoulders. Her gaze was warm, moistening as if was at the brink of pouring tears. The mirror showed half of her body. Her background was vague.

With quivering lips, Moulin spoke with difficulty. "Mother..."

'I missed you.'