Within the mind-muddling haze surrounding the lone man inside the decorated room, playing with the golden hilt of his scabbard and the patient light in his eyes, he smiles at his lonesome state. Lord Quade Accrius had already finished three bottles as he waited. It was funny to think how he used to hide and conceal his depravity back when the Kron hadn't corrupted most of the world—hiding his inner self just to please his family and those worthless fools who were so bold and proud in front of him.
Now, he didn't have to hide anymore. The world was darker than it already was. What was the use of feigning goodness? Quade laughed lowly as he slowly swirled the wine in his cup. He leaned back, wondering about how long was Malyana apprasing her new goods.
Eyeing the bed situated not far from the couch he was sitting on, he imagined smooth and delicate pale flesh rubbing the satin sheets. The low moans and cries from sweet delectable lips. Quade closed his eyes, half smiling. He hoped the person they would send him had much lighter colored hair and rare bright eyes. It would be better if they would be a little fierce as well. The more similar..., the better.
Knock! Knock!
At the sound, Quade lifted his head. A smirk was plastered on his face. 'Finally...'
"Come in..."
The doors opened with a slow creak. Suddenly, Quade felt as though this person was intentionally making him wait to raise his interests further. Quade narrowed his eyes. 'What a minx...'
"Don't keep me waiting." He said darkly, adjusting in his seat and popping off the first few buttons of his shirt. The man observed as the person closed the door behind him and stepped into the low light of the room.
His eyes widened slightly. Adorned by the translucent red silk, his skin was rosy and pale as though warm milk was poured on it. The person was indeed a man. However, his androgynous figure would pass him for a woman. Walking towards Quade in torturous slow steps, the person's arms and shoulders were bare. The two slits of the red silk skirt accentuate his slender legs with his wrists and ankles adorned by gold and jewels. Indeed he was a soul-sucking appearance. It was enough to drown Quade in awe and silence.
But what was more captivating was the loos soft curls of pure-white hair draping down the person's torso. The red gauze that masked half of his face only served to heighten Quade's curiosity. It felt as if a lustful deity was visiting him.
"Come here, My sweet." Quade sat up straight, allured by the beauty of the creature presented before him. So similar... So damn similar... It felt as if Quade was really touching 'him'.
Obeying his orders, the masked beauty walked closer and closer until he was only a step before the man's feet. Quade could no longer bear it and grabbed the young man's hips with both his hands. His fingers felt the soft flesh beneath that thin garment. He wanted to rip it off. The young man didn't even release a single yelp or gasp as Quade had his way. This made the lustful man even more curious and captivated. The mystery was drowning him.
"What soft skin you have..." Quade smelt the sweet perfume from the young man's garbed belly. He felt some muscle beneath. This must be a well-fed fellow. The better... Quade didn't need to worry about breaking him open.
Suddenly, Quade felt fingers trailing from his nape up to the strands of his hair. The ticklish feeling he felt burned inside him. From all the whores he had been with, this was the quietest and mysterious one. The thrill Quade felt made him smile obsessively. Oh, how daring.
He looked up. "Why don't you show me your face-"
Quade stopped.
...
Piercing silver eyes were frighteningly staring deep at him as though it was cutting through his eyeballs and digging into his skull. A shuddering chill crept up Quade's spine. Suddenly, he felt as though a ferocious predator was looking at him, the prey. He felt like he shouldn't even lift a finger.
This feeling... it was all so familiar. So nostalgic... Someone used to look at him like this...
Staring into those terrifying eyes, Quade unmovingly held his breath. Silver eyes... Pure white hair...
His heart drummed as the answer unearthed itself from the back of his mind. Impossible... Impossible...
"Hello, Quade..."
Suddenly, the person's eyes curved. Quade failed to predict the youth's next movements. He felt Moulin grab his jaw and slam him back on the couch.
Crack!
Quade's agonizing cry was blocked by Moulin's hand. There was a sharp throb on Quade's jawbone.
In the next instant, a biting cold spread itself from beneath the youth's palm. Quade's eyes widened in fear as the severe cold stretched outwards, biting into the man's skin, freezing his lips. And he was struck by a painful punch on his temple. His body laid limp on the couch, looking lifeless.
"Drunk idiot..." The youth in red whispered. He couldn't believe how Quade was quickly knocked out with a single punch. Moulin yearned to do more. What a joke...
Ripping off the red lace from his face, Moulin used the fabric to tie up the unconscious lord. He rose up and carefully analyzed the room for any threats. He stiffened when he heard footsteps. No, Ghana and the others should've taken care of the guards outside; it could be them. But just to be safe, Moulin materialized a dagger of ice in his hand.
Whoosh!
The young maeruthan immediately swiveled and hurled the dagger behind him.
"!!!"
Hadrian caught the dagger effortlessly and cocked one eyebrow. His expression remained neutral afterward as he made his towards his lover in red.
"Did you not know it was me?"
Moulin shrugged as he turned around. "I did. But where's the fun in that, My Lord. I should punish a sneaking man."
Moulin's expression remained serious as when he felt strong arms slid around his waist, hands pressing against his skin. The warmth of Hadrian's touch was tantalizing. Moulin missed it.
"Where did he touch you?" Hadrian's words tickled his ear. The hot breath caressed the youth's delicate skin. "Tell me..."
Moulin gasp when one of Hadrian's hands suddenly splayed itself on his stomach. Possessive finger pressing into the silken garb as if threatening to rip it open.
Hadrian's chest pressed closer into the aphrodite's back. "Tell me..." His tone became darker and colder.
"Ahem!"
Moulin froze, and he looked up to find Malyana crossing her arms with an intrigued smile on her face. Behind her was Emlen's scrunched-up expression. The young Lord's expression was similar to that of a crumpled paper.
Malyana raised her eyebrows with a grin. "As much as I would like you two to continue, I believe it is best to relieve your desires privately."
Moulin reddened intensely.
Emlen roared. "I-I... Get the fuck away from him!"
He marched towards the two and grabbed Moulin. Emlen's face was dark as he glanced at the unbothered Hercullian Lord, who cared more about Malyana's words than Emlen's warning. Emlen flashed a dark look on the unconscious sleazy bastard on the couch as well. In anger, he kicked Quade's limp body. "Fucking bastard."
The four acted quickly, covering any traces of them in the private room and taking the unconscious captive. Nhero raised the signal, and the group guarding the private room immediately dispersed. It was as if nothing had occurred.
.....................
"There, That ought to do it..." Ghana said as she rose from the floor, admiring her creation before her. Quade was tied up in a chair, wearing an amulet to restrain all his abilities. The man was a maeruthan, after all. It was best to be cautious.
Moulin nodded as he eyed the unconscious man in the room. Malyana had prepared a secret room just underneath an inn she owned in the South City. The area was abandoned, and it was the perfect place to hide and torture someone. Moulin didn't even want to know how Malyana meant by that.
"Are you alright?"
Turning his head, Moulin faced the fox lady standing beside him. "Yes..."
Malyana nodded as she crossed her arms, "Lord Accrius belongs to one of the maeruthan families who help found this City. Although his lifestyle didn't seem to change even if the Lord of the City was replaced, it was interesting to witness an obsessed man. I recalled he was enamored of a young maeruthan in his youth... he died sadly..." Her ruby eyes seemed to take in even a slight reaction from the young man beside her.
"..."
Moulin chuckled. "I don't know what you mean, My Lady."
"Hm, I'll find out for sure." Malyana sighed before she went to leave the room. Ghana and the rest followed after her, intent to inquire about their free-living spaces in the inn.
The only person who remained was Moulin. A white silk coat was wrapped around his shoulders as he stood... waiting.
Finally, when minutes have gone by, he spoke, "I know you're awake. It's useless to pretend in front of me."
...
Out of the blue, a deep chuckle sounded. The once unconcious man slowly raised his head. His eyes were brimming with excitement. "It's been a long time, young master Moulin."
Moulin grimaced.