Chapter 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. 

"Y-Young master..." She stuttered with red ears. "It... It is good to see you again..."

Ever since the news came to her that Moulin had safely returned to the manor, she felt joy and fear at the same time. The third young master had returned during a dangerous time. But it was better than letting him be with that man...

Pressing his lips together, she lowered her head even more. Is... Is he still angry at me?

"Pola..."

She flinched.

The youth stopped. His outstretched hand withdrew. Guilt filled his eyes, and he drew back. He was the one that pushed her away. Of course, this should be her reaction. Moulin could not help but regret it. Ah, he was certainly a dumb fool...

"How are you, Pola?" He only asked with a faint smile. 

Pola lifted her head with hesitating eyes. "I... I am well, young master. Thank you for your concern..."

"I am glad you are safe."

Seeing that gentle smile once again, Pola sighed in her heart. Warmth brimmed inside the emptiness of her chest. He wasn't angry at her... he was speaking to her kindly... staring at her with gentle eyes. It felt almost surreal. The feeling was beautiful.

Seeing her dazed expression, Moulin sighed. 'I must've confused her.'

Deciding not to trouble her any longer, he nodded to Pola and turned away. 

Pola was frightened by the sudden departure. She hastily called out to him, "Young master, wait!"

"...?" Moulin stopped. He turned and looked at her alarmed expression. 

Pola immediately fixed herself and gave a shy smile, "C-Can I help you with something? Y-You, look like you're searching?"

Silence dawned between them. Moulin felt warmth seep into his heart as Pola's words entered his ears. With a faint smile, he nodded. "Yes... Yes, of course. I am looking for Phaelona and Colahn. Do you know where they are?" 

Pola nodded earnestly. "Yes, young master. I can take you to them if you want-"

"I would be happy if you could..." Moulin revealed a beautiful smile. The joy in his expression was evident. Pola sighed in relief. A cloud of glee surrounds her as she bowed gratefully. 

With soft steps, she led Moulin through the hallways and corridors. There was silence between them, but it was peaceful and comfortable. Both of them were satisfied with it. 

Arriving before a half-opened door, the sound of mutterings escaping from it, Pola gestured Moulin to the door with a respectful bow.  There was a smile on her face, and Moulin felt pleased with it. Feeling light in his heart, he slowly knocked on the doors twice. The sound quickly caught the attention of the two arguing people inside. 

With irritated eyes, they turned to gaze at the intruder.

Phaelona and Colahn stopped. 

"Hello, Am I disturbing you?" Moulin asked with furrowed brows. The two looked like they would bite each other's heads off. The workroom was a complete mess. Beakers and vials were scattered on the rug, towers of books were placed at every corner, some had even toppled down, and the round wooden desk were filled with scribbled and torn articles. 

Pola peeked inside, and her face instantly fell. 'I just cleaned this room!'

Clearing his throat, Colahn, the head seer, fixed his collar and bowed. "A pleasant afternoon, third young master."

Moulin nodded to him with uncertain eyes. On the other hand, Phaelona, the head mage, looked with bright eyes as she boldly strode towards Moulin.

"Young master, Moulin. It is delightful to see you!" She smiled with curved eyes. "However, it is also a surprise. I thought your brothers had locked you up for good."

"Right." Moulin frowned. "I see you are doing well..."

"Oh, yes. I am!" She grinned. Suddenly, she shot a fierce glare at the man beside her. "If it weren't for some ungrateful fool, I would've felt better."

"Here we go again..." Colahn muttered under his breath. "Honestly, how childish can you get..."

"What did you say?" Phaelona gritted her teeth. Her sparkling eyes burned with age. 

A round of cursing passed before Moulin. Pola apologized on the two people's behalf, but Moulin only told them not to worry so much. 

"Enough..." Moulin lets out a sigh. 

At the same time, Phaelona and Colahn stopped. Realizing that they were making a fool of themselves before the third young master, they quickly fixed themselves and decided to save their argument for another day. 

"What brings you here, young master?" Colahn asked with a straight back.

Silver eyes deepened. "I came to inquire about my mother." His voice was soft and weak, but everyone in the room had heard it clearly. 

The elven mage turned her gaze away with a sigh, "Yes, of course. As her son, you should be curious."

"Please tell me everything you know..."

Colahn knitted his brows and turned to Phaelona. His eyes were questioning. The female elf only sighed and shook her head. She leaned her hip on the edge of the table and crossed her arms. 

Phaelona took in the hidden desperation in the young master's silver eyes. Her gaze softened, and she started. 

"Your mother contacted the disease through touch. It was one of her personal maids who carried the Kron. The first time she collapsed was the time we discovered that the Kron had taken her. The Kron devours the energy and mana inside the victim, only leaving the impurities to rot the body. Her torso was already covered with black veins. It seemed that she was hiding it at first."

"Moulin narrowed his eyes. "Why would she-"

"So she could see you..." Phaelona answered. "It was a stupid act. However, she knew that if she was discovered, then she could not talk to you any longer." A sigh escaped her lips. "Most of the infected maeruthans would not last a week. But your mother... she held on for your return..."

Moulin's throat constricted. He raised his hand and covered half of his face. "Why..."

Phaelona shook her head. "She made a risk, but it still wasn't enough... In the end, her body gave away..." Lifting her eyes, she sighed. "None of it was your fault,  young master."

"Is there... a chance?" Moulin's voice was broken and driven by fear. 

Colahn and Phaelona stopped. He could not respond. They were trying, but their work couldn't produce any result, just like the seers of the temples and the mages of far lands. They were hopeless.

"Young master... " Phaelona could not help but softened her voice. Her eyes were gentle. "It will be alright..."

Alright...

Pain drove inside his soul. He knew the meaning behind those words of comfort. They could not do anything...

Nothing...

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

"Your body seems to be recovered. Hm, no complications at all..." 

Slowly lowering the youth's hand, the doctor cleared his throat as he lifted his gaze. 

Silver eyes stared dazedly at the orange skies. The sun was setting, bringing with it the pain of the day. And what was left was numbness. Moulin sat on his bed with a despairing look. Snow looked at his master and could only nuzzle his snout on Moulin's waist to comfort the youth.

The sight made the man sitting on the chair beside his bed give a sympathetic look. 

"Thank you..." Moulin turned his head with a smile.

"There is no need to thank me, young master. Your health is my priority." The doctor smiled.

"Vonin, a word."

A deep voice spoke behind him. The eldest young master of the Fraunces family approached the bed. His analyzing eyes glanced at Moulin's expression before he turned to talk with the man.

After a while, the doctor left the room, leaving the two men inside, along with the heavy silence.

Maxille furrows his brows. "Moulin... "

"Hm..." Moulin didn't turn to face his brother. Darkness has already filled the entire sky. 

"Are you alright?" Maxille asked. Although he already knew the answer.

...

"No..." 

Pressing his lips together, Moulin shook his head. His fingers clenched on the blankets tightly, knuckles turning white. With a hoarse voice, he continued. 

"I'm not alright..."

Suddenly, Moulin felt strong arms embracing him. A hand guiding his head to rest on Maxille's chest. Maxille embraced Moulin with a sigh, comforting the youth with his caresses.

Moulin them buried his face on his brother's chest. Shoulders trembling and hands clutching tight.