A Gorgeous White (BL)

The heavy oaken doors opened. Beige tassels trembled against the wind, brushing past the dark wooden chair legs. The sudden noise pulled a corner of the lips of one of the two people within the room. A magnetic smile that could trap anyone in a trance, had they not known this man's identity. He had already risen from the chair, buttoning his black shirt, while those familiar footsteps neared.     

Fiery golden eyes lifted to meet dazzling silver ones.     

The visitor's snowy hair fluttered as though there was a breeze that carried it. It left a wondrous scent behind. Fresh lavender doused in honey. Addicting and sweet.     

Colahn stepped back from behind the chair as discreetly as he could. One would think he was a respectful man. But if one heard his thoughts, they would think otherwise. He felt as though he wasn't meant to be in this room at all.     

Long legs strode towards the two men. They looked at Moulin's expressionless face, nearing their vision.     

Lord Hadrian faced him with a slightly softened look before a slender hand abruptly reached out, pulled the clean buttoned collar, almost tearing the seams, and brought their lips together in a searing kiss.     

Colahn immediately shifted his gaze elsewhere. He is as still as one of the furniture in the room. 'I really shouldn't be here indeed.'     

A groan rumbles out within Hadrian's throat as he slipped his tongue inside those plump persistent lips. Moulin pulled away slowly and shot him a look. His cheeks are flushed and he smelled so good, fresh from the bath.     

With a pleased expression, Hadrian cradled Moulin's cheek gently.     

"You did well, young master."     

Moulin raised a brow, "I did? Had we been a step too late, more lives would have been at risk. We were... lucky."     

"You gave your best and the result was... excellent."     

Moulin couldn't concede. "Still... perhaps we could have done better."     

"Perhaps, but not everything is as predictable as it seems." Hadrian's fingers crept up to brush the stray strands of hair away from the youth's silvery gaze.     

Moulin paused. For a transmigrated soul like him, he should already be aware of that. With a despondent sigh, he reached to straighten his lover's collar until it looked neat and decent. Hadrian is right.     

"How is he?"     

It took a moment for Colahn to realize that the question was directed at him. He straightened his back and cleared his throat, hoping to appear proper before the little lord.     

"We have not produced any solutions... yet, young master. However, we will not rest and continue to observe his excellency's spiritual pulse. Please do not worry."     

He witnessed as Lord Moulin's expression deepened. Moulin noted his words, one by one.      

Colahn continued. "I will recommend some soothing elixirs. The Lord should bear in mind the curse's sensitivity to your emotions. Once triggered, it will be difficult to appease yourself back to normal. I shall bring the elixirs to our next examination. His excellency may inspect them himself."     

Hadrian nodded and Moulin replied for him, "Thank you, Colahn."     

"It is my pleasure."     

When the seer left, Moulin released a deep sigh. His eyes fell on a rough open palm, awaiting his acceptance. Moulin remained silent as he let the lord lead him to the chair and had him sit on his lap like a child eager to hear stories.     

Moulin frowned but he was too lazy to complain.     

"We have guests with us tonight. They arrived earlier than we expected." Hadrian began his 'story-telling'. His hand dangerously crept downwards from the curve of the youth's waist.     

Blinking, Moulin spoke. "Guests?"     

"From Ralor." Replied Hadrian. He added with a disarming smile, "Dress nicely for the banquet."     

Moulin frowned slightly. "What do you think you're doing with your hand?"     

.....     

Bright warm lights filled the small hall. It was simple yet grand, with plain columns decorated with swaths of silk as well as full-bloom flower arrangements placed at every corner. Elegant music filled the halls in soft melodic whispers. The people within were only a few officers and esteemed people. Some brought their heirs. Dressed in their finest, they internally hoped to gain a good impression from the visitors from Ralor.     

Suddenly, there was a noise. Several gazes shifted toward the hall's stone-arched entrance. The doors opened to reveal two familiar people; The famous Fraunces brothers.     

Lord Maxille Fraunces, garbed in his finest, looked every bit like his father, domineering and an outstanding leader. And walking beside him was the foretold "Spirit of the White Forest", the legendary ice-wielder sentinel with the rare ability to purify malevolence. His glistening translucent sleeves sparkled like water under the sun, a few gold accessories decorated his long loose hair, and his family's insignia embellished the center of his collar.     

Garb in beautiful red silk, highlighting his figure, he looked ravishing and dangerous. A red rose within a beam of pure moonlight.     

Several pairs of eyes lingered on him as he walked. While others dress to impress the guests, he was only dressed for one specific person tonight.     

Moulin followed Maxille towards a group of elders and quietly excused himself, oblivious to the countless gazes upon him.     

He stops, serving himself a glass of wine from the deserted table. No servants were allowed to step inside the hall unless a mishap occurs. Moulin pulls the corner of his lips. Some of their nobles didn't appreciate the thought of self-service.     

There were a few familiar people within the room. Sarion with his father, Chief of the Morfaers, a few high-ranking veresyahs, and even some sentinels. Unfortunately, Ghana could not attend. The aftermath of the demonic cult incident had to be dealt with, she left to take care of it.     

"My dear, you are quite a sight"     

A familiar voice caught the youth's attention. Moulin calmly turned. His expressionless face failed to surprise the other party.     

Lord Fridal Hyantor looked gallant and at first sight, one could instantly recognize him as a wealthy man. He wore a dashing smile but in the youth's eyes, he appeared devilish.     

"Hello, young master." He greeted.     

Moulin returned the greeting and added, "Has Helios been entertaining you well? or does it continue to bore you?"     

The Grekellian man paused before releasing a hearty laugh. The noise caught the attention of nearby people but Moulin and Fridal couldn't care less.     

"Erik was right," Friday spoke. His smile broadened which caused Moulin to frown. "You have quite the tongue."     

"Please find some other form of entertainment, my lord. I fear your little follower might lose a limb one day."     

'If he continues to spy on me...'     

Friday furrowed his brows, "Ah, Erik means no harm at all. Unless someone wants his life. I am harmless as well, I assure you."     

'Sure, old man.'     

Moulin squinted his eyes suspiciously. The Grekellian merchant lord felt as though he needed to defend his honor before a sudden noise caught their attention.     

Moulin felt a tingle inside him. The bond pulled within his soul. With a small smile, the youth raised the wine to his lips. He spoke a few words to lord Fridal before returning to his brother's side.     

Several people entered and the atmosphere immediately altered. The music softened until they were as quiet as whispers. Bright silver eyes stared intently.     

The first to step in was none other than his excellency Lord Hadrian Hercullio, the sun himself. As usual, his expression remained cold. His strides are heavy and intimidating like a conqueror viciously entering the heart of a kingdom.     

His eyes, golden pools of gold, swept across the room, startling the audience, urging them to hide themselves. Moulin could even sense his brother tensing beside him.     

Two eye-catching people trailed behind the Hercullian Lord. A very tall lady with lustrous pale blue hair that swayed above her hips walked with ultimate grace. A beautiful smile hung on her lips and her eyes are darker than the frightening depths of the ocean. She is a stunning blue lily. Gentle looking as she casts a smile to whoever meets her eyes.     

Her eyes scanned the room with curiosity, openly commenting about the quaint elegance of the hall. Another person walked a step behind her.     

The other person looked more reserved. He was not as tall as the giantess beside him but his aura was no less intense. Dark midnight hair and incredible bright green eyes. They looked as though they were glowing radiant emeralds. Calm and detached, slender and quiet. Adorned on his noble suit, a golden accessory embellishing two swords behind the Auronian crown.     

Moulin's thoughts drifted...     

It was an Auronian prince.     

He'd never seen a real prince before. Moulin lowered his gaze slightly.     

The guests followed behind high lord Hercullio, managing small talk. Many came to give their greetings and expressed radiating smiles. Before Maxille could even take a step closer, the group of persistent men crowding around the High lord and the guests parted, and Lord Hercullio ambled expressionlessly towards the Fraunces brothers. Confused, the esteemed guests fixed their eyes on him.     

Many watched, some were surprised, and others looked in greed and envy.     

Moulin looked uninterested and calmly took a sip of his wine. His eyes drifted towards the group of veresyahs and their intimidating antlers, gilded with gold. The thin metal wove through their hair beautifully.     

Although dying, the mystical world continues to intrigue him.     

He gasps when a firm arm wrapped itself around his waist. He could feel the rough press of the man's palm caressing his lower back.     

"What intrigues you so much that you would ignore my presence?"     

Moulin resisted the urge to roll his eyes and politely faced the man holding him close. Countless eyes fell upon them, never straying. They both wore red and it fitted them beautifully, like a pair of lovers from an enchanting painting.     

Moulin realized Hadrian's eyes weren't on him. The lord stared at the group of veresyahs who curiously looked at them.     

Ah, this jealous dog.     

He wanted to tease. But Colahn's warning echoed in his mind. It would do them no good if Hadrian's emotions acted up.     

"You are too close. My brother is here." Whispered Moulin while his bare hands pressed against the man's warm chest. His cheeks are flushed making him look more exquisite to the eyes around him.     

Hadrian turned to the man standing a few steps away from them. Maxille didn't even try to hide his unease yet he remained impeccably handsome and orderly. When he met the high lord's gaze, he nodded.     

"My Lord..." He muttered.     

Hadrian straightened with a small smile as he returned the greeting. It allowed Moulin some space but the hand on his back remained.     

"Who is this lovely creature?" A soft voice interrupted them and a figure slipped into their conversation.     

The beautiful blue-haired lady, one of the guests, scanned Moulin's body. The youth felt exposed before her fiery gaze and she stared at his face quite longer than he thought.     

"Klaria, High Lord of Ralor..." Hadrian introduced with a whisper to Moulin.     

"It is my pleasure to meet you Lady Klaria."     

Her eyes squinted with mirth. "My sweet, you can call me anything you want."     

The youth stilled. He blinked in confusion. "Ah..."     

"Klaria..." Hadrian Hercullio's deep gaze fell on her.     

"My Lord."  Klaria smiled softly and the sweet look in her eyes vanished. Her demeanor changed instantly.     

Moulin became even more confused.     

In the next second, she turned her gaze to Maxille Fraunces, apologizing for her behavior. Surprise filled the lord's face and he quickly tries to lighten her feelings.     

"Your ladyship, the Raloran base flourishes beautifully, I have heard."     

"Oh, you flatter us" Klaria chuckles. "It is nothing compared to Helios's prosperity... and Grekellia as well."     

"Bah!" Fridal Hyantor scoffed loudly startling Moulin. The Merchant Lord stood a few steps away from them, eyeing Klaria in irritation. "Off with the act, woman. No stupid fool will fall for your wicked tongue."     

With a hand on her lips, Klaria looked hurt and worried. "It seems the Lord's ears have gone terrible. Old man, why would I sound so terrible? Was the compliment too much for your meager self?"      

Veins bulged on the man's forehead. His expression hardened in frustration. "You! You insulting-"     

"That is enough..."     

"..."     

"..."     

A young man stepped forward. His eyes are bright yet deep and he walked so elegantly no one could take their eyes off him. None moved to continue.     

The man raised his head and stopped before the brothers and Lord Hadrian.     

Maxille was the first to speak, "Your Highness, it is a pleasure to see you again."     

"Likewise, my friend." The prince replied with a small smile.     

Moulin continues to observe the prince but before he could greet him, the man lowered his head with a bow.     

"Vascilicus Tiberius Octanian Aurona, fourth prince of Aurona. It is an honor to meet you, young master Moulin Fraunces."