Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!
Chapter 105: ’How Are You?’

Chapter 105: ’How Are You?’

With the help of Lucius and Cashew, Florian had finally managed to piece together a plan—or more accurately, a proposal—to test the princesses.

Now, he was on his way to Heinz’s office, holding the neatly stacked papers in his hands. Lucius wasn’t with him this time; he had other pressing matters to attend to, namely overseeing the ball arrangements. Cashew, on the other hand, had gone off to fetch his lunch—something Florian had insisted on since he wasn’t in the mood to face the princesses during mealtime.

The thought of being bombarded with questions by Scarlett or Camilla made him shudder. ’I can only imagine the chaos they’ll bring the moment they see me,’ Florian thought grimly as he walked briskly through the quiet corridors.

To his surprise, the palace felt unusually empty. There wasn’t a single knight, maid, or servant in sight. He furrowed his brow, glancing around. ’Weird. Maybe it’s because it’s lunchtime... or because everyone’s busy preparing for the ball.’

The announcement of the ball had thrown the entire palace into a frenzy. Apparently, it was the first grand event of its kind since Heinz ascended the throne. Sure, there had been the welcoming ceremony for the harem, but that had been much smaller in scale compared to what this ball was shaping up to be.

’Lucius seemed so busy earlier,’ Florian thought, recalling the butler’s brief visit to assist him. Despite being swamped with work, Lucius had gone out of his way to check on Florian before heading back to his duties. ’Kudos to him. He didn’t have to do that.’

Florian’s train of thought came to an abrupt halt when he spotted a familiar figure walking toward him. The man stopped as well, and their eyes met.

"Lancelot," Florian greeted, blinking in mild surprise. "Good afternoon."

Lancelot looked momentarily startled but quickly inclined his head in a bow. "Good afternoon, Your Highness. Where are you headed?"

"To King Heinz’s office," Florian replied, adjusting the papers in his arms. "I need to discuss something with him."

"About the ball, I presume?"

"You know about that too?" Florian asked, tilting his head. ’Word really does travel fast around here.’

"His Majesty summoned me to discuss security," Lancelot explained plainly.

"Oh." Florian nodded, unsure of how to keep the conversation going.

An awkward silence fell between them, and Florian could feel the tension rising. The two of them simply stood there, staring at each other, as if neither knew what to say next.

’WHY is it so awkward all of a sudden?! It wasn’t like this yesterday!’ Florian internally screamed, his heart raced in mild panic.

Yesterday, he and Lancelot had shared a few moments that had been... well, eventful, to say the least. Florian had thought he’d managed to smooth things over by being his usual obnoxious self, but now it seemed Lancelot was back to acting weird around him.

’If he’s starting to develop feelings for me too, I swear to—’

"How are you?" Lancelot suddenly asked, cutting through the silence. His tone was calm, but there was something earnest in his expression. "Your wounds seem better than yesterday, but... how are you, Your Highness? As a whole."

Florian blinked, caught off guard by the question. ’As a whole? Is he asking because of how I acted in front of Arthur yesterday?’ If that were the case, Lancelot was acting just like Lucius—overly concerned.

Florian sighed internally. ’Why can’t he just go back to being obnoxious?’

"I’m fine," Florian replied, offering a small smile. "Really, I’ve basically forgotten about everything that happened."

"Is that healthy?" Lancelot asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Florian blurted out before he could stop himself. Realizing his mistake, he immediately clamped his mouth shut. ’Shit.’

"Oh?" Lancelot’s lips quirked into a faint smirk. "I’m guessing the butler’s been asking you the same thing?"

"...Yeah."

"I don’t see why he’d need to ask. He can already see how you feel."

Florian’s brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Lancelot shrugged nonchalantly. "Unlike the rest of us, he can see your emotions."

"What?" Florian’s voice dropped, his confusion evident. "What are you talking about?"

Lancelot paused, then his expression shifted as realization dawned on him. "Wait... you didn’t know?" He let out a low scoff, shaking his head. "Damn. I knew that butler was a pervert, but I didn’t think he’d keep something like that from you. He’s an Aurathil, Your Highness."

"Aurathil?" Florian repeated, narrowing his eyes. "What the hell is that? Explain it properly."

Crossing his arms, Lancelot leaned against the wall with an amused look on his face. "Aurathils are special-born Concordians blessed with the ability to sense emotions. It’s a gift—one that doesn’t require mana stones or spells to activate. It’s just... innate."

Florian’s mouth went dry. "So... you’re telling me Lucius has been able to read every emotion I’ve felt... this entire time?"

"Exactly," Lancelot said with a sly grin. "And he’s probably used that ability to tell when people are lying too. Haven’t you noticed how he always calls you out on your bluffs?"

’FUCK. Lucius, you... you goddamn motherfucker!’ Florian’s mind raced, a mix of anger and disbelief coursing through him.

It all made sense now. Lucius’s uncanny ability to know how Florian was feeling, the way he always stared at him during conversations, how he’d seen through every one of Florian’s lies—it wasn’t just intuition or attentiveness. It was a literal ability.

’And he hadn’t said a word about it.’

’That smug bastard has been reading me like an open book this entire time!’ Florian fumed, his grip tightening on the papers in his hands.

Meanwhile, Lancelot seemed thoroughly entertained by Florian’s reaction. "Oh well," he said with a chuckle. "Looking at you now, I’d say you’re doing just fine. But if I were you, I’d punish that butler for keeping secrets." He waved casually as he turned to leave. "I’ll see you around, Your Highness."

Florian didn’t respond. His mind was too busy cursing Lucius in every language imaginable. Some of those curses were so harsh they would’ve been censored had they been spoken out loud.

But one thought rose above the rest: ’I’m giving that butler a piece of my mind later.’