a gorgeous white by Heather_anare

231: I am not alright

Since the night when Moulin intruded his mother's room, the sight of her pale coughing form imprinted itself in his mind.

Unimaginable fear gripped him tightly. Like chains, shackling him until he could not move a muscle. Every time he remembers it, his chest would ache, and it was hard to smile during the hours after. He decided to inquire Phaelona, their family's mage leader, and Colahn, their seer. Moulin doesn't know anyone that could know his mother's wellbeing aside from the two. If there were something he could do to helo, he would do it if it means that there would be a hopeful recovery for his mother.

Currently, he was walking towards the seer's and the mage's abode, the House of Tremaine, named after Lord Dontae's grandmother. From head to toe, he was dressed. Gloved, arms garbed with long sleeves, Moulin wanted nothing more than to bare his feet and hands and walk down the snowy path. However, he could only endure, for it was one of his brothers' and his father's conditions if he ever wanted to step out of the room. It was for his own safety.

A sigh escaped his lips.

"Ao!"

Moulin smiled as he turned to his side to watch Snow playfully running around him. Seeing the little fox, all playful and energetic, Moulin couldn't help but recall a particular black wolf pup who has always accompanied Snow.

"Do you not miss Kier, Snow?" Moulin smiled.

At the mention of the beast's name, Snow abruptly stopped and lowered his head. He lets out a pitiful whimper.

'It looks like he really missed Kier.'

Moulin helplessly crouched down and picked up the fox. He cooed softly, "Don't worry, he's alright. You'll... see him again." Moulin comforted. When he finished his words, he held Snow tightly. Thoughts, drifting to a place far away. To a fortress on the cliffside. To a vast, majestic room... To a particular man with golden eyes.

Moulin's eyes lowered. He continued to walk silently until he arrived before the massive wooden entrance of the House of Tremaine.

A cloud of gloom seemed to enshroud the whole place. The courtyard was filled with rare herbs. He could not see a single soul.

With furrowed brows, he began to explore the place. Not long after, his feet led him to an outdoor hallway. The sculpted pillars were massive. It felt as though he was walking inside a temple. Moulin could barely remember the seer's wing and the mage's wing. However, he had a faint idea about where Phaelona's work room was located.

Creak!

Moulin raised his brows and quickly shifted his attention. His eyes stopped at a frail figure carrying a wooden box of glass beakers.

Those freckled cheeks and round eyes, Moulin didn't need to think to recognize the person appearing before him. The young woman sighed wistfully. She was exhausted from trying to move the heavy equipment to the storage rooms.

"Pola..."

Hearing her name called, she blinked and turned her head.

Bright pupils grew wide. Her mouth parted in shock. She was frozen from where she stood, staring at the young man standing a couple of meters from her.

Silver eyes softened. It has been a long time since he had seen her. Old dreadful memories were gone in a blink of an eye. Moulin could not bear to be angry at her anymore. Relief filled him when he realized Pola was safe from the Kron. Thankfully, she was doing well.

On the other hand, the young girl remained frozen. It was when Moulin called her name a second time did she snapped out of her trance and immediately bowed.