The walk back was ominously silent.
Their footsteps resounded through the massive hallways. Every servant, every knight paused to bow as they walked by, not lifting their heads until their figure's disappeared from their sight. Moulin glanced at the man walking beside him. Hadrian kept a hand around his waist. As though he was afraid that Moulin would run off once he released the youth.
When they arrived at the dining halls Lord Hendrick immediately stood up from his seat. Concern filled his eyes and his complexion was pale. When Grandfather Hercullio caught sight of Moulin's familiar figure, he sighed in relief and slowly sat back on his chair. For Moulin, the man's actions made him confused. He looked so worried.
Hadrian pulled a chair for Moulin before silently taking the seat next to his grandfather.
"My Lord, Are you feeling unwell?" Moulin asked when he turned to observe the older man's expression.
Lord Hendrick smiled faintly, "No need to worry, child. I am well."
A those words were spoken, servants began to place the food on the table. Their actions were extremely cautious, Moulin noticed. The youth also discovered the faint tremble of their hands as they worked.
Unconsciously, his eyes slowly shifted at the man sitting across him. Wearing a cold expression, he didn't even bother to meet Moulin's gaze.
None of them spoke during the meal. Lord Hendrick, who Moulin thought was always bright and pleased, uneasily concentrated on his meal. It was as if all sound was sucked into an invisible void rendering the hall soundless.
As just like that, the meal passed quickly, and Hadrian abruptly escorted Moulin to his quarters before his grandfather would make a move to talk to the youth.
Within the room, Snow finally reunited with Keir, who was brought into the room just moments ago. The two friends immediately run off to play, leaving the bedroom to the two silent men.
The calm wind from the balcony brushed Moulin's face making him unable to resist walking over. However, his feet stopped before the arch, and he furrowed his brows. He remembered how Hadrian spoke to him at the courtyard—boldly declaring his authority within the fortress before his eyes. He felt the dreadful darkness within the lord's voice. Hadrian felt so distant at that moment.
He had always known how Hadrian treated others differently than how he treated Moulin but Moulin had never thought the man would treat others to that extent.
Moulin stopped once he realized his thoughts...
From the way Hadrian spoke to him. His threats, the darkening look in his eyes, the vicious words.
Unease filled Moulin's expression.
Hadrian didn't intend to keep him here...
Right?
...
Moulin blinked and abruptly shook his head. No, why am I assuming that kind of idea?
Although this was what his kind was telling him, warning him, Moulin felt like it was all a bluff. He didn't like to think of something to make his faith on the lord waver.
Before he could further sort his thoughts, Hadrian suddenly spoke from behind him.
"Moulin..."
The youth flinched at the call of his name. The loose strands of his silvery hair danced with the passing wind as he slowly turned to face his lover. Silver eyes slightly squinted but there was no softness of warmth in it.
Hadrian stood with a soft gaze. As if it didn't matter if the world around him would burn down into cinders. As long as he had the young man before him within his sight, he didn't need to care about anything else. A covetous need rose from his chest. It was broiling with smoldering fire. When he had realized that that worthless maid had lost his beloved. It felt as though death was striding within the halls.
