Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!
Chapter 208: Drugged!

Chapter 208: Drugged!

Riven remained by the food table, savouring the rich flavours of the Lion Kingdom’s delicacies. He was going to miss these when he eventually went back to Ronan or Soren, though they wouldn’t mind acquiring these items for him.

Just as Riven reached for another pastry, Lady Seraphina approached him again. He tensed slightly, recalling their earlier interaction, but her demeanour seemed more composed this time.

"Representative of the Wolf Clan," she said, handing him a glass of wine, "I hope you’re enjoying your stay in our kingdom."

Riven glanced at Leon, who was still engaged with the officials, then back at Seraphina. Unsure of the proper etiquette, he accepted the glass and took a polite sip.

Seraphina watched him intently, then insisted, "Please, finish it. Otherwise its considered an insult here."

Riven hesitated, feeling the pressure of the situation. Before he could respond, Leon appeared beside him, smoothly taking the glass from Riven’s hand.

"Apologies," Leon said, downing the wine in one go. "My guest is a lightweight. I’ll take it on his behalf."

Seraphina raised an eyebrow but said nothing, turning to mingle with other guests.

Leon turned to Riven, a smirk on his face. "Consider that my way of saying thanks for all your help. Now we’re even."

Riven frowned, the words stinging more than he expected. Weren’t they friends by now? Why did Leon still talk about favours being owed?

He looked at Leon, searching for an answer, but the King had already moved on, engaging with other guests. Riven sighed, feeling a mix of pride and confusion.

As the evening progressed, Riven couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. The lines between ally, friend, and subordinate were becoming blurred, and he wasn’t sure where he stood anymore.

Riven had been nibbling on a fruit tart when he noticed something strange—Leon was tugging at the collar of his shirt like it was suffocating him. His face was flushed, more than just the usual high from feeling proud or smug. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow, and his eyes were unfocused.

Riven blinked, confused, until it clicked. That wine. It has to be-

His gaze quickly flicked around the ballroom. The Dowager Queen was nowhere to be seen—she must’ve already made her brief appearance and dipped out. The officials were still mingling, chatting away, oblivious to their King slowly coming undone in the middle of the room.

Riven saw Seraphine nervously looking at Leon. She was in a rush to leave. Riven shook his head. It was just as he expected.

Leon stumbled a little, fingers now working at the buttons of his formal shirt. "Ugh, it’s so damn hot," he mumbled, voice a little too loud, like someone who didn’t realise just how much alcohol, or whatever was in that drink, had hit them.

"Shit," Riven muttered, abandoning the table immediately and moving toward him.

He stepped in front of Leon just as the King had gotten halfway through unbuttoning his shirt. "Alright, that’s enough festivities for tonight," Riven said under his breath, trying to laugh it off even though his eyes were scanning the room, already plotting their escape route.

Some of the officials started looking over, clearly catching on that something wasn’t right.

"I think that’s our cue," Riven said loudly, stepping forward to address the crowd like he actually had the authority. "His Highness is feeling tired. The night’s been long, and we appreciate all of you attending."

A few people looked at him like he’d grown a second head. There were murmurs—who was he to be giving orders?

Riven’s jaw tightened. This was going to get messy—

But before he could say anything else, Lady Seraphina’s voice cut through the murmuring crowd.

"Well," she said, walking forward gracefully, wine glass in hand, "it is getting quite late, isn’t it? Let’s not overstay our welcome. I’m sure His Highness will want some rest after such a grand evening."

Her voice was smooth, polite, and laced with that matriarchal authority these women respected.

The tension broke almost instantly. One by one, the officials nodded and exchanged farewells before beginning to file out, their steps clicking against the polished ballroom floor.

Riven nodded his thanks to Seraphina, though he didn’t fully trust her. Not after earlier.

Once the room had cleared out, Riven turned back to Leon, who had now given up on the buttons and was straight-up tugging at his sleeves like they were trying to strangle him.

"You’re really testing my patience tonight, Your Highness," Riven muttered, slinging Leon’s arm over his shoulder.

Leon mumbled something incoherent and leaned on Riven more than he probably realised. He was burning up. The guy wasn’t drunk—this felt different. Whatever was in that wine, it had to be something strong or unnatural.

Riven looked toward the grand hallway that led to the royal chambers, then back toward the hall that led to his own room. The King’s wing was too far. Leon wouldn’t make it without collapsing or doing something stupid like stripping in front of the guards.

"My room it is," Riven sighed.

He shifted Leon’s weight and hurried down the hall, dragging the half-delirious lion along. The guards gave them a couple of weird looks, but no one stopped them. After all, Riven was the so-called representative from the Wolf Clan. And more importantly, Leon didn’t seem to mind clinging to him like bark on a tree.

As they reached Riven’s room and stumbled inside, Leon immediately tried to shrug off the rest of his jacket. "I’m gonna melt..." He groaned, dropping heavily onto the bed, halfway undressed.

Riven closed the door and locked it behind him. "Just don’t puke on the sheets."

Leon groaned in response and flopped onto his back. Riven sighed, brushing a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of what just happened.

First, the wine. Then the weird tension with Seraphina. And now Leon was acting like he was drugged.

Something was off. Very off.

"Wait- AH!"