A Gorgeous White

Within the crowded streets of the central district, countless gazes settled upon the group of travelers garbed in thick clothing, dark and ominous. Battle-hardened and scarred, they wore an oppressive aura crushing anyone within their path. Their weapons sounded, heard beneath the thick leathers. Children stared at them with fear and awe and their parents took them away from the sight of these bulky men. The men are eye-catching, surrounded by vibrant stalls and bright people. One wouldn't forget them when they passed.

The people should have gotten used to their presence a few years ago by now. However, whenever they appear before their very eyes, it felt as though they were seeing them for the first time. With such aura and looks, they are striking like the brutish warriors of the ancients.

The Grekellian men rode a boat, crossing the river to the High Towers. When they set foot on clean ground, they are welcomed with the sight of gigantic open gates and the group of people awaiting them. Among them were Helios's well-known warriors, great leaders, and most especially the Golden High Lord of Helios. Fridal stared at the regal golden-eyed man who, as usual, never gave him a satisfied look. However, this annoying being bested all of the High Lords within the land. Although he was irritating with that cold gaze and disapproving expression, Fridal find it amusing to anger him even more. But not to the point of risking his life, of course. That would be... foolish.

"Ah, a sight for sore eyes you are, My Lord." Fridal grinned. Eyes flashing with delight.

"Hyantor," Lord Hercullio acknowledged, indifferently.

Fridal sighed, "You could at least grace me with a smile, you ice-cold statue."

Hadrian didn't respond but instead raised an arm and led them to the Tower's entrance. Most of the audience stayed away from the frightening men with Fridal as they walked. A few warriors led their mounts away as well as their wagon. And while the large group of people entered the great halls of the Second Tower, one particular white-haired young man slowed his steps, quietly observing the group from afar. In his arms, rested a lazy snow-white fox who wasn't in the mood to run around. He had just suffered a fierce scolding from Moulin for ruining his father's favorite garden.

At first sight of Helios's guests, Moulin gaped at their height and build. They looked as though each of them ate a cow for breakfast.

The High Lord of Helios didn't waste any time and headed to argue negotiations with Fridal Hyantor more privately. The welcoming feast would have to wait. However, before he left, he eyed the dark-haired man with amethyst eyes. Fridal blinked before finally understanding the silent High Lord's request. He turned to his impatient men with a nutty grin.

"You all better not do anything outrageous during our stay or else I'll send you to the afterlife myself." His eyes glowed ominously before he turned around and followed Lord Hercullio.

The Grekellian men stared incredulously at their leaders departing back before grumbling away to follow a trembling young man leading them to their respective lodgings. The crowd then dispersed. Mutters and whispers faintly faded as each person left. Most of them sighed in relief after hearing Lord Hyantor's warnings.

Maxille, whom Moulin accompanied today, left first to attend to some matters. And so, Moulin stood, watching as Lord Hercullio and his guests disappeared from his field of vision.

Lips thinning, Moulin was about to turn away and leave as well when a frightening growl startled him. Snow eagerly growled in response and his master turned around warily.

"...!"

His eyes widened at the sight of a large red tiger. Beautiful white stripes decorated its body. The fascinating and fearsome beast sat before Moulin, staring with bright orange eyes. Although the creature looked frighteningly dangerous, it looked tame, obediently sitting. It seems like it growled just to catch the young man's attention.

Snow bared his teeth viciously at the giant feline. The tiger raised its fluffy paws as if to reach for Snow. However, Moulin took a step back evading its touch. Whose pet was this? Where did it come from? And why is it here?

Moulin gazed at the elegant beast with a questioning look.contemporary romance

"Dira, behave..."

A calm soothing voice spoke and immediately placated the impatient tiger. Moulin curiously shifted his gaze to the unknown stranger and paused in surprise. The first thing he noticed was the man's unbelievable build. He was overly bulky, muscles threatening to rip through the thick dark clothing. A plain black mask concealed his face, only revealing a pair of gentle brown eyes. He was bald with a few scars decorating the side of his head.

After a moment of silence, Moulin withdrew his gaze from the man and turned to the eager tiger staring at him.

"Is he yours?" Moulin asked.

The man chuckled, "She. And no she's not. Dira follows whoever she wants. Although I am in charge of taking care of her, I cannot control her curious nature."

"She's beautiful..." Moulin smiled, fearlessly reaching out to stroke Dira's head. The tiger obediently let him pet her, purring deeply. Meanwhile, Snow huffed in irritation.

"Apologies for startling you. Dira is... well... Fond of foxes." The masked man sighed before reaching out a hand, "I am Erik."

"Moulin..." The youth said with a charming smile, shaking the man's rough hand. His silver eyes glistened beautifully. "Perhaps, she enjoys feasting on them as well? It seems Dira doesn't try to hide her hunger at all."

Erik embarrassingly nodded. "Yes, unfortunately, foxes are her favorite. Apologies."

A mellow laugh filled his ears. "Well, this naughty brat in my arms is no ordinary fox. But I may consider feeding him to your beloved tiger if he does anything foolish again."

The threat was undoubtedly clear and the small white fox shivered in fear before growling at Dira menacingly. With one fierce look from Moulin, Snow immediately silenced himself, sulking and burrowing into Moulin's arms. His actions were pitiful.

Erik chuckled, "Your little creature looks beautiful."

Moulin revealed a helpless expression. His eyes are filled with doting affection as brought his fingers to caress the little brat's little snout. Snow adorably licked his master's slender digits playfully, striving for his attention. Yes, don't look at that ugly cat! Look at me!

"He's quite a handful though..." The youth commented, sighing regrettably.

"Hmm..." Erik quietly examined the strange young man's pure-white hair and dazzling silver eyes, much like the little fox's eyes within the youth's arms. The resemblance of color matched the pair significantly. And their mana, Erik could sense it, almost similar. But if it wasn't for the odd thickness of another person's essence obscuring the young man's own aura, he was certain the pair of animal and fox shared the same mana.

Such a violent and fearsome aura. It was impressively hidden within the youth's own. If one weren't careful they wouldn't be able to detect it. What concerned Erik was the familiar oppressive mana fused with Moulin's... it was much like...

Erik's eyes widened briefly in realization. He stepped forward. "Pardon me for asking but... what is your relationship with His Excellency, Lord Hercullio?"

Moulin blinked a few times at the unexpected question. A trace of embarrassment slithered in his eyes. "I-"

Before he could answer, a sudden voice interrupted them. "Why, he's Lord Hercullio's long-lost beloved."

A familiar man with glistening golden pain adorning his face and arms strode towards the two men. His robust figure was barely covered by the loose robe he wore. Undoubtedly, there were a few maidens who giggled as they walk away, glancing at a certain beastman's sexy figure. His provocative smile is laced with amusement and laziness.

As usual, two servants followed him even when he approached Moulin and Erik.

"Ah, I see..." Surprise filled the man's brown eyes before he turned to greet the approaching man. "Master Sarion, It's good to see you, my friend."

"Likewise, Erik. You look bigger than the last time we met... as usual." The man waved a hand before glancing at Moulin with a teasing smile. The only response he received was a cold indifferent stare.

This man again...

"I had heard about you before, young lord," Erik spoke thoughtfully, scratching his chin to recall. "I never thought His Excellency had found you. Before, I was only informed of your... passing, several years ago. Forgive me if my words have offended you."

Sarion was about to interrupt when Moulin beat him into it. Moulin shook his head in understanding. His irises are like rays of glittering moonlight. "It's alright, Erik. Those were just... rumors."

Delight shone in the man's brown eyes. "I hope you two will have a blessed life together, young lord. It seems you both need each other very much."

Moulin's eyes softened as he kept those words in mind. A gentle smile adorned his lips. His silence was his gratitude. Yes, we both need each other. No matter how far the distance is between him and Hadrian, they will find a way to return to each other's arms.

"Thank you..." Moulin spoke with tender eyes.

Out of the blue, his eyes narrowed as he senses an odd presence within the halls. A shadow escaped his searching eyes in a blink of an eye. Moulin found remnants of dark mana behind one of the pillars he sees behind Erik. However, before he could track it, the energy dissipated. Not a trace of it left. Moulin's pupils quivered.

Was it... just his imagination? No, he wasn't imagining it. He had clearly sensed malevolent mana within the area.

Or did he?

................

A dark-haired man sighed heavily as he sank into one of the couches of the esteemed High Lord's office. At last, the negotiations were settled for today. And as usual, they'd be going on another battle of words tomorrow. Just thinking about it felt exhausting. like always, no one was as harder to crack as Lord Hadrian Hercullio. The man was unbelievably unyielding. Impenetrable! Indestructible! Damn stubborn!

Fridal could only complain in his heart. Ah, he missed having people beg and submit before him. He groaned in annoyance.

"Your grandfather was more amiable." He mumbled before shifting his gaze from the ceiling to the High Lord sitting at his desk.

He received no response. Fridal's gaze deepened the longer he looked at Hadrian. "You look unwell."

"I'm fine." Hadrian glowered.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"..." Hadrian withdrew his gaze before turning to look at the windows.

"Alright. If you say you're fine, then you're fine." Fridal conceded. He spread his arms, silently thinking about the interesting things he'd seen on his way here. To his dismay, he witnessed only a few but then one particular subject filled his mind. Violet eyes narrowed, intrigued.

"Ah, that young man with white hair and silver eyes. Is he your fabled lover? The one you lost several years ago?"

Silence now was suffocating and Fridal's smirk grew wider.

"He is then. Don't ask me how I knew. Your people don't know how to keep their mouths shut. Erik told me something interesting today. That lover of yours seems to possess the same essence that filled your city's famous 'White Forest'."

He chuckled, "How interesting..."

done.co