A Gorgeous White

Chapter 410: || || Troubling Beginning

As the cool breeze brushed past them, Moulin's distant eyes looked at the man more deeply. He never failed to sense the pride and arrogance in the man's face. Despite this, sincerity dripped from the beastman's words. Before, Moulin previously thought it was him who stepped out of line. Yes. Unquestionably, he was also at fault.

It was childish of him to be so insensitive and high-tempered. Even after his rebirth, it seemed as though he never grew from his temper. He ought to try and change this trait of his.

"I..." Moulin furrowed his brows, "I also apologize. I was quite rude..."

He tried to say the next words but his mouth denied him and made him mumble out the rest. A sigh escaped the youth's lips, drowned out by the wind's gentle caress.

Sarion looked at him in surprise. Indeed, he didn't expect Moulin to apologize to him too. The man blinked a few times before clearing his throat, hastily thinking about what to say next. The aphrodite's exquisite silver eyes softened. They are like the night's glistening moonlight, gentle and precious.

Finally, Sarion straightened his back, hoping to look calm, and said in a sincere tone, "It's alright. I... I hoped to compensate for my unruly behavior. If there is anything you want or need me to do, I will do all I can to accomplish it. I give you my word..."

Now, he feels like a child who wished to do anything to please the object of his affection but his expression was calm and serene, so unlike the arrogant loud man, he was during his last meeting with Moulin. He wondered if his words were too inappropriate. Was it?

Moulin smiled and gave him a thoughtful look. "Well, there is something..."

"There is? What is it? Be free to tell me." Sarion hastily spoke. His voice reverted to his normal loud and proud tone.

Moulin's eyes flashed secretly. He smiled, stood up from the wooden bench, and gestured for the beastman to follow him. Curious, Sarion and his followers followed the captivating youth towards the garden's exit. Snow and the two large creatures with him sensed Moulin's movements and hurriedly chased after the young maeruthan.

The walk was long and silent as countless gazes followed them. Sarion was beginning to get nervous. Not long after, they arrived before a tall dark wooden double-door. They could hear the noise inside. Uncontrollable chaos brewed within the room. Moulin held the door handle and innocently turned to the man behind him.

"I have a friend who needs a few pairs of hands to aid her work. You and your men wouldn't mind doing it, right? My Lord?"

Sarion's forehead creased. he reached out to stop Moulin. "Actually, I thought-"

"You gave me your word." The youth's voice seemed like a sword pointing at Sarion's neck.

"I... Of course..." The man dazedly replied.

Moulin beamed and hurriedly opened the door. Snow, Kier, and Dira perked up and rushed inside the room, bumping past Sarion and his men. Ear-piercing screeches, roars, and powerful beastly bellows filled their ears. The sound echoed endlessly in the hallway making heads turn. Sarion's eyes are wide in shock as the room before him was cramped with all kinds of creatures; big and small, majestic and strange-looking ones.

Beast tamers are scattered throughout the entrance hall. A few chaotically worked together to stop a group of lizards from climbing up the walls and most chased around some massive creatures that were quite slow but difficult to stop. Several flying beasts with massive wings perched at the top of the high windows, eager to mate. but what caught most of Moulin's attention was the beautiful floating giant serpent swirling slowly in the air. Its glistening scales glittered like water under the sun.

"Ah! You're finally here!" Quipped a certain blonde beastman. Malyana's ruby eyes glowed gorgeously as she hurriedly approached the two people by the door. Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail, showing off the pale skin of her neck.

"Let me guess you decided to come and help because you feel guilty about having a delicate woman do heavy work." She raised a brow.

Moulin's eye curved as he smiled. "Ah, not me. But I brought someone who could help."

Malyana turned to the three people behind the youth and the handsome man at the center instantly caught her eye. She grinned, winking at Moulin. "You know me well, Moulin."

She said to the three dumbfounded people, "Come, there's no time to waste. We're quite short-staffed right now but a few more people will undoubtedly lessen the workload significantly. Hurry! Hurry!"

Without another word, Moulin pushed Sarion inside and the beastman's followers followed their master confusingly. Sarion was about to object but Malyana placed a finger against his lips.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you." Her alluring gaze turned Sarion stiff as a rock.

"I'll have Pola bring Snow and Kier back before night!" Malyana beamed at Moulin before the doors shut close.

...

She was as assertive as ever. Moulin chuckled briefly before he turned to leave. He hope Sarion and his followers could help Malyana round up the creatures before something goes wrong.

Marion looked quite strong. With that kind of physique, the man will do just fine.

Unknown to him, the little gem of his bracelet glowed faintly, flickering. Somewhere on the highest floor of the Central Tower, a certain expressionless man continuously tapped his index finger on the smooth dark surface of the desk.

"Ah, you came..." Jagra welcomed Moulin inside the room and told the doctor a few words before seeing him out.

"How is he?" The youth asked as he sat at the edge of the boy's bed, placing a hand on the child's head to check the temperature. He was a little warm but he looked much better than before. The boy was steadily breathing and even shifted to sleep comfortably under Moulin's soft hand.

"He's alright. He's recovering from the fever and would probably wake up in a few hours." Jagra leaned on the doorway, examining Moulin's concerned expression while the youth gazed at the boy.

"His wounds..." Moulin caressed the child's wrapped-up arm. "They would leave scars wouldn't they?"

Sighing, Jagra replied. "Yes. Moulin... this child. You don't even know him. Ghana has found no information about him and you're letting him stay inside the Towers without your brothers knowing. Not even the High Lord knows about it. What if-

"Hadrian knows." Moulin interrupted.

Jagra stared, "You told him?"

"...no."

Jagra wore a confused expression at his response. "Then how did he know? Does he..."

"Well, he knows, whether I tell him or not. Why couldn't he?" Moulin naturally spoke while his soft gaze fell on the child. When he turned to face Jagra, he was met with the latter's confused expression.

Jagra furrowed his brows. The complication on his face made Moulin feel as though he'd said something wrong.

Thoughts rushed within Jagra's mind. Wouldn't... it feel odd for Moulin? Did he not feel even the slightest discomfort? Inwardly, Jagra dismiss his curious thoughts and decided to shift the subject. However, the strangeness in Moulin's words lingered in the depths of his mind. The sight of Moulin's worried look towards the sick child made Jagra sigh.

"I'll request Lady Phaelona to examine the boy. So stop worrying and hurry to your brother's office. lord Emlen will be suspicious. You already know what happens if you show up late again." Jagra explained reassuringly, "Afterwards, it might cause trouble if the child stays here any longer. I'll bring him and a physician to my place instead. Worry no more. I'll take care of him."

Moulin took a few seconds to consider before nodding his head in agreement. He raised his gratitude-filled gaze. Silver eyes shimmer like an endless river of diamonds. "Thank you..."

"You're welcome..." Jagra mirrored a smile.

Moulin left the room after taking one last glance at the little boy on the bed.

The next morning, within the wide room of Lord Emlen Fraunces's office, the lord silently scanned the documents on the table. He picked up the quill pen and wrote a few sentences on the surface. His writing wasn't as impeccable as his eldest brother but it was significantly elegant nonetheless. After a while, he glanced at the round mirror, elegantly gilded with silver, situated near the corner of his desk.

His grey eyes narrowed as he examined his little brother's bored expression. The young man reflected within the mirror yawned briefly, barely awake and surrounded by towers of books. His silvery hair flowed over the armrest of the chair while he seated himself horizontally and a few smudges of ink stained the youth's rosy fingertips as he played with the piece of paper in his hand. His bright eyes emotionlessly read the document word after word.

Moulin had been running around to who-knows-where lately. Undoubtedly, he'd been exercising his body but not his mind. When Maxille found out that Moulin had been frequently slipping out to explore, he and Emlen decided to push some responsibilities towards the uncontrollable young man. Since their father was unconscious, more work piled on the two brothers' desks. It was time to give Moulin a share of the workload. But before that, he must learn and work his way from bottom to top.

Moulin didn't know that the start of the journey given was several hundred written documents. The mana-infused information devices were quite scarce since a few years ago. At first, Maxille handed only a few thick books out of pity for his little brother. But then Moulin urged him to give him access to the whole archive in the second Tower. Out of surprise, Maxille agreed.

Now, here he was, reading silently in the room next to Emlen's office. immersed and oblivious to his cramped and messy surroundings. He'd passed a few tests earlier. Emlen sighed and a helpless smile formed on his face. Perhaps, it wouldn't be long before Moulin could accompany them to every lord's assembly.

Sudden knocks from the door interrupted his thoughts. The person stated his identity before Emlen allowed him entry. The lord arranged his papers and set them aside. Emlen opened his palm patiently. The three people who entered the room hesitated as they each gave him the documents one after the other.

Meanwhile, Moulin slowly lifted his gaze from the book. He heard faint sounds coming from Emlen's office and he couldn't help but be curious. It was then that he realized how messy his surroundings were. Moulin's brows furrowed as he carefully stepped over some books and documents, cautiously lifting his feels to fit his toes on the tiny uncovered spaces of the floor layered with countless towers of wisdom. However, the place still looked like wondrous scenery in his eyes.

Moulin controlled his strength, contracting his limbs as he finally placed his foot beyond the sea of delicate intellect. Sighing in relief, he walked towards the door separating him and the people within the other room. He was about to stop when-

BANG!

Moulin froze, startled. His eyes widened slightly.

Then Emlen's voice roared throughout the place. The walls seemed to shake.

"WHERE WERE THEY?! Sitting and doing nothing?!"

Another banging noise caused Moulin to hesitate. Then heavy footsteps tread the ground. He could already imagine his brother's furious expression as he stormed out of the room. Moulin closed his eyes as he heard the doors slam close.

Then there was silence.

What happened? Moulin worriedly thought as he slowly opened the door and entered Emlen's office. The scattered paper on the ground and messy desk welcomed his eyes. It seems not all of them left for a single person was kneeling on the ground, staring at him in surprise.

The teenager was dressed in grey robes and a brown satchel hung on his hip, bumping the ground every time he moved. He looked at Moulin stunned.

Seeing the boy's appearance, Moulin inwardly sighed. Must be a scribe's apprentice. He was left to pick up the pieces of paper scattered on the floor.

A crease appeared on Moulin's forehead as he approached the boy, kneeling to help him clean up.

Flustered, the boy's eyes widened. "A-Ah, no need y-young master. I-I can handle it."

Moulin shook his head and helped him clean up. The boy swallowed and continued to pick up the documents with the silver-eyed man's help.

"My brother's anger is hard to quell. Tell me, what caused him to be so furious?" Moulin asked once he handed the last sheet to the young man.

The young man stopped, "I-I cannot..."

"Please..."

The apprentice trembled, looking away and glancing at Moulin. Lured into those captivating eyes, the boy hesitated before slowly giving Moulin the documents. Moulin smiled accepting them.

"Thank you."

Not long after, he helped the boy up the floor and nodded to him before the teenager politely vacated the room. Moulin then lowered his gaze. Two words in bold letters caught his attention.

"Devil... worshippers?"