Chapter 216: Blinded By Love

For a full day, a raging snowstorm laid upon the stronghold. Blizzards had almost covered every courtyard. A frigid cold slips into the hearts of many, along with the shivering of their bodies. It was a day so strange, every single person had questioned. However, it didn't last long. 

When night came, the skies were cloudless. So clear and bright every person would gape at its magnificence. After the violent storm, beauty took its place. And within a vast room in a lone tower, a silver-eyed youth with his head hidden behind his knees sat on the cold bed. 

Moulin resides in the darkness of his room that Lord Hendrick had provided for him. The previous patriarch was confused why Moulin suddenly requested another room. However, instead of asking Moulin if he was dissatisfied with Lord Hadrian's room, the man immediately sent a servant to prepare a special guest room for the youth. 

Lord Hendrick took one look at the youth's pale face, his aghast eyes, and a hand on his abdomen; he knew something had happened to Moulin. He had always thought it was good to separate Moulin from Hadrian, for he could not trust Hadrian keeping Moulin in his quarters. It turns out he was right. He should've had intervene.

Moulin was quickly designated a room, and it didn't take long for him to settle down. Keir and Snow, who were found by some servants, were hurriedly returned to Moulin's room. The snow-white fox and the midnight wolf whined as they watched their master, who wallowed in anguish. 

That night, the food had gone cold by his bedside as he slept with a disturbed mind and heart. It was Snow and Keir who slept in his comfort. But inside, Moulin missed the warm embrace that held him tight each night and the gentle gaze he loved so much. However, anger and distress burrowed in his chest. A feeling akin to betrayal slowly devoured his interior, and he slept with it all. 

It seemed as though it was sleep which saved him from the torment. 

The following day, he woke up with reddened eyes. A maid attended to his every need. He bathed, he dressed, and he ate. And when all was finished, Moulin, with slow steps, headed to the balcony. With blank eyes and a suffocating chest, he breathes in the cold morning air. 

The snow was left to melt on the stone banister. Dripping on the statues of maidens beneath it appearing as if they were weeping. 

Hadrian's deep voice lingered in his mind. 

'I broke your womb's seal.'

Unconsciously, Moulin palms his lower abdomen. His brows furrowed as he pressed his lips together. 

Did Hadrian really mean to imprison him? To bind him to his side forever. Even resorting to breaking the seal of his womb to force him from leaving? Was his love so dark and forceful to the point of breaking his trust?

'Yes.'

Moulin paused. It felt as though Hadrian was speaking beside his ear. Moulin deeply recalled the brute strength the man had used to pin him to the bed. Even clawing on his skin would not even earn Moulin an even a muted reaction.

'His love is selfish...' Moulin narrowed his eyes. He was furious. To look so helpless and weak underneath Hadrian sparked humiliation inside him for the first time. 

However, there was no hate in his heart. He could not hate Hadrian. No matter how angry and betrayed he felt, he could not hate him. It was different from the love he had experienced in his previous life. Moulin had humiliated himself countless times for something so stupid as believing he was loved. This time, he wanted to stay strong. There were countless hurdles ahead of both of them. This was just one of them.

Stay strong... Stay strong... and don't break. 

Moulin lets out an exhale as he lowered his hand. His gaze sweeps across the numerous roofs beneath the tower.

"Young Master..." The servant behind Moulin called with a bowed head. 

Without turning, Moulin replied, "Yes..."

"You have a guest wishing to meet you, Young Master." 

This time, Moulin turned his head. His expression was neutral as he wondered who it wanted to speak to him so early in the morning. If it were Lord Hendrick or Hadrian, they would've just entered the room.

"Who is it?"

The maid furrowed her eyebrows as she lowers her head, "It... It is Lady Heizea, young master." There was uneasiness in her voice as she spoke. There was no one who didn't know the animosity the lady had shown to the honored guest a week ago.

Moulin stopped. 

...

Why is she here? 

Moulin narrowed his eyes. If she wanted to stir up trouble, Moulin would take this chance to relieve some stress. He was tired of being pushed around like a weakling.

Silver eyes gleamed with intent. He slightly lifted his chin. His hair, swept by the cool wind. And with a cold voice, he spoke. "Send her in."

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

Thud!

Knees crashed on the carpeted floor. Although the floor was covered, the noise was loud enough to make one wince. Moulin, however, sitting on the chaise couch with an expressionless face, only stared.

Lady Heizea kneeled before Moulin. Her crimson hair draped down her strong shoulders, and her amber eyes were glued to the ground as she bowed her head. She looked so submissive, like a slave who would give her life to her master or a loyal warrior who's able to accept being killed by the hands of her lord.

The sight was genuinely shocking for the maid who sneaks a glimpse behind her before exiting the doors under Moulin's orders. 

The youth before the female warrior and aristocrat only looked away from her. His eyes drifted to the vast skies of the balcony. Wearing an indifferent countenance, he pulled the white sash around his shoulders closed. 

His mind was a bit chaotic. He didn't expect Heizea to apologize suddenly once Moulin allowed her entrance. There was remorse, guilt, and regret in her eyes as she did. And when Moulin only gave her a skeptical look, the guilt in her heart worsens. Her father always told her to cherish and value the people who would save her life. 

Moulin's interference with her execution has made her realize how she had wronged the youth who didn't even know her that well. She had thought herself a righteous person. However, she was blinded by obsession and jealousy. Even before her punishment, her eyes were opened. What a fool she was...

She immediately went down on her knees, and once again apologized.

Presently, Moulin wasn't in the mood to humiliate or forgive. His expression looked as if he was in a trance. His elegant figure sat with a hidden allure.

"My Lady..." Moulin opened his mouth. "What was in your mind when you attacked me in the courtyard?"

Heizea lowered her eyes. Guilt filled her face, but she replied truthfully. "I thought how a person like you had seduced the lord. How if you had not existed, the lord would be mine..."

Moulin slightly narrows his eyes. A wistful smile graced his lips. "Is it love that you feel for him?"

Heizea stiffened. Why was she asked this kind of question? 

Her brows furrowed as she contemplated for an answer. "... I... realized that perhaps it is not love that I feel. Lord Hadrian is a mighty being. He could trample the two courts if he wishes to. Even the king is under his hold..." Heizea's voice slowly fades.

"You wanted his power. The dominance he brings to people." Moulin breathes slowly as he returns his gaze to the kneeling woman before his feet. Once again, the wistfulness in his smile was evident.

Heizea's brows slightly raised. For a long time, she did not speak. Her mind circled the youth's words. 

"Yes..."

Moulin softens his gaze. The young woman was clearly older than him if he would exclude his actual age, and she appeared inexperienced. 

"There is no need to apologize, My Lady," Moulin spoke. "Please rise..."

Heizea hesitated, but she obeyed Moulin. She stood like a knight ready for battle. Hoping to be recognized and chosen by the young master.  For some reason, Moulin was deeply reminded of his dear friend Ghana. She and Heizea would perhaps become great friends if they would meet.

The two began to converse with each other. They filled the atmosphere with harmony and calmness as they talked. And when it was time for Heizea to leave, Moulin snuck a look at Heizea's fingers. 

"Does it hurt?" Moulin asked with furrowed brows. His eyes stared at all ten bandaged fingers. Dark blood stained the fingertips as though the wounds were still fresh. Moulin could imagine the excruciating pain as the fingernails were wholly pulled off. It would have been difficult for a lady like Heizea.

Heizea glanced at her hand and revealed a faint smile. "I would be lying if it wasn't. However, a Hercullian knight must be strong to endure even the worst situations." Pride filled her voice. 

To Moulin, it was a relief that she hadn't lost her will to continue knighthood. 

"Young master, Thank you for saving my life." Heizea bowed to Moulin. It was a bow of reverence and gratitude. Genuine respect showed within her bright eyes.

And with a smile, she bade farewell to the youth before exited the room.

Once the lady was gone, Moulin returned to sit on the couch. He sighed as he tilted his head backs and covered his eyes with his forearm. "Blinded by love, huh."

Suddenly, he felt a soft paw touch his thigh. Moulin lowered his hand and met the identical gaze of beady silver eyes, staring at him with worry. Moulin breathed out and smiled. He picked up Snow from the floor and caressed the little beast's soft snow-white fur. Keir appeared as well. The wolf jumped on his lap energetically with a bark. Snow patted the wolf's face away with annoyance. It was his and his master's time! Why are you here?!

Moulin smiled as he watched the two. One was hissing in irritation while one was whimpering pitifully. 

The sight made his chest grow lighter.

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

His sandals clicked on the smooth floor. His footsteps echoed throughout the hallways towards the hallways of the treasury. A young man with dazzling silver eyes and two little pups, hurrying to match his pace, walked at his side. 

It was the sight the servants and knights saw, and they could help but admire the Lord's lover. Indeed, he was a fine young man! 

Ignoring the gazes of many, young Moulin ventured the hallways with an empty heart. His thoughts kept drifting to a particular lord. With a shake of his head, he forced himself to vanish the thoughts of his head. Moulin knew they needed some time apart. In truth, he needed this time to sort out his thoughts carefully. 

"Snow, Keir, stay close..." Moulin called with a faint smile. 

Once they neared the first doors of the treasury halls, Moulin did not expect a familiar person leaning at the side of the wall as if waiting for someone. Raven hair, sea-green eyes, Moulin recognized him the moment he laid eyes on him.

When Aedion heard those soft familiar footsteps, he quickly pushed himself off the wall and stared at the approaching youth with wide eyes.

"Moulin..." There was worry in Aedion's expression.