The air is chilly within the quiet lounge illuminated by warm light. Hadrian's refined face showed a subtle but noticeable hint of exhaustion, which did not escape Moulin's gaze. The youth looked at him worriedly, approaching the man with long strides. Snow did not leave the couch and snuggling on the warm cushions while observing his two master.
That reminds him... Where was that big black beast that always follows him around?
Warm hands rested upon the youth's waist, slightly pulling Moulin closer.
In Hyantor's eyes, the esteemed High Lord appeared like a pitiful puppy, enjoying the attention of his master's concerning touches. No matter how much he looked, he was still in disbelief. It was phenomenally disturbing. The merchant lord's face was filled with unease.