A red streak had painted the side of the man's temple.
The tips of golden strands were dyed red as they caressed the stained skin. Moulin's eyes widened and he stepped closer to the lord while under the curious stares of the other two people in the tent. His slender fingers reached out. Delicate fingernails were painted red...
"You are hurt" Moulin softly whispered to Hadrian.
"Are you worried?" The hint of amusement of Hadrian's voice seemed to prick at Moulin's patience.
Was it something to be amused about?! The youth internally rolled his eyes as he released a sigh. "I don't like you being hurt..." He openly expressed.
"As do I to you..." Hadrian grabbed Moulin's raised hand, keeping it in his grasp. Without turning to the other occupants of the area, he spoke in a low voice as he brought Moulin's palm to his cheek. "This fortress is a trap. It seems the hostages were a lure to pull us within the boundaries of the island's barrier."
