Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!
Chapter 128: ’Report’

Chapter 128: ’Report’

"Y-Your Majesty, what are you doing here?"

Florian barely managed to keep his voice steady as he stepped toward the door, forcing his expression into careful neutrality. Heinz stood tall in the doorway, his presence effortlessly commanding, like a shadow cast over the room. Even Cashew, standing stiffly beside him, trembled slightly, his fingers clutching the fabric of his tunic.

"I’m here to talk. May I come in?"

Florian’s mind reeled.

’Talk? He could have summoned me. He always summons me. Why come here?’

Still, he forced a polite smile, the corners of his lips barely lifting.

"Are you sure, Your Majesty? My room might not be... to your taste."

’Please leave. Please don’t come in.’

Heinz didn’t hesitate. "I’ll be fine."

Without waiting for permission, he stepped inside, brushing past Florian and Cashew as if he belonged there. His gaze swept across the room, taking in every detail—the neatly arranged books, the delicate flowers by the window, the soft glow of butterflies fluttering in slow, dreamlike patterns.

"This is my first time seeing your chambers."

Florian bit the inside of his cheek, his fingers tightening slightly at his sides as he watched Heinz’s sharp crimson eyes scan his space, lingering too long on things that felt too personal.

’Hopefully, the last as well.’

Still, he played his role. He had to.

"Right. Do you want anything, Your Majesty? Tea? Cookies?"

He gestured toward Cashew to close the door, but before the boy could move, Heinz spoke again.

"I would like to speak with you privately, Florian."

His gaze flickered to Cashew, cold and expectant.

"That means your... servant must leave."

Florian stiffened.

"Oh."

Cashew’s face fell instantly, his hands balling into small fists. He didn’t want to leave. It was written all over his downcast eyes, in the way his shoulders tensed like he was bracing himself. Florian exhaled slowly before reaching out, resting a hand gently on top of Cashew’s head, fingers threading briefly through his hair in silent reassurance.

Lowering his voice, he murmured, "You may return to your room for now, Cashew. I’ll summon you again later."

Cashew swallowed hard, his reluctance evident. "O-Okay, Your Highness."

He turned to Heinz and bowed, though it was more stiff than usual. "Your Majesty."

Then, with one last fleeting glance at Florian, he stepped out, closing the door behind him. The air in the room felt heavier the moment he was gone.

Florian inhaled deeply before turning back to Heinz, who had wandered further inside, now standing by the flowers, watching the butterflies dance lazily in the dim light.

"Are these the same butterflies you brought with you when you first arrived?"

Florian blinked at the unexpected question.

"Eh? No... Well, technically. These were the original Florian’s pets, Your Majesty."

"And these flowers?" Heinz reached out, stopping just shy of touching a petal. "Do you maintain them in his stead?"

"No, Cashew is the one who tends to them."

Heinz hummed in acknowledgment, tilting his head slightly. "Cashew. The servant that he absolutely insisted on keeping, despite our suggestions for him to take a maidservant instead."

His red eyes flicked toward Florian, unreadable.

"I’m surprised. You seem just as close with him as he was."

Florian’s fingers twitched slightly, but he forced an easy smile. "Cashew is... an easy person to grow fond of."

Heinz didn’t reply, but something flickered in his gaze before he turned away.

Florian gestured toward the couch. "Please, have a seat."

Heinz complied without hesitation, sinking into the cushions with effortless grace. He crossed one leg over the other, twirling a long strand of his dark hair between his fingers, his sharp eyes drifting across the room once more.

Florian, however, remained standing. He kept his distance, posture rigid, arms crossed lightly over his chest as he struggled to push down the unease bubbling under his skin.

Heinz didn’t speak. He simply sat there, watching, as if waiting for something.

The silence stretched too long. Florian’s fingers twitched, his foot tapping against the wooden floor in a nervous rhythm.

’Isn’t he going to say anything?’

He cast a quick glance at Heinz, only to find the man perfectly at ease, like he had all the time in the world.

’Should I say something? Is he waiting for me to speak? But why is he here in the first place? He’s never come to my chambers before. Why now?’

Before the thoughts could spiral further, Heinz finally spoke.

"Well?"

Florian stiffened slightly. "Eh? Well?"

"Your report." Heinz’s voice was smooth, even. "What are your observations on Alexandria?"

Oh.

So that was why he was here? But why in his chambers? Why not his office, like always?

Despite the unease twisting in his stomach, Florian quickly straightened, clearing his throat. "Right. My report."

He turned sharply on his heel, striding toward his desk. His hands moved on instinct, fingers finding the stack of carefully written notes detailing everything he had observed about Alexandria.

Even as he picked them up, the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave.

’Something about this isn’t right.’

Florian pressed his lips together, inhaling quietly through his nose, steadying himself.

"Alexandria was still shaken," he began, his voice calm but firm, "but she seemed relieved that you were okay."

He kept his gaze on Heinz, searching for some reaction—an acknowledgment, a flicker of concern for the girl’s distress. But Heinz’s face remained unreadable, a mask of detachment. He simply nodded, his posture unshaken, his focus steady.

No softening of his gaze. No hint of curiosity about Alexandria’s state beyond what the report provided.

Florian clenched his jaw, a faint tension rippling through his expression.

’Of course. He doesn’t even ask how she’s doing. Straight to the point, as always.’

He pushed on. There was no room for hesitation in a conversation with Heinz.

"She seems to admire you a great deal, Your Majesty. I’d say you two are a good fit."

At that, there was the slightest raise of an eyebrow—faint, fleeting—as if the observation had sparked some distant amusement.

Florian pressed further. "During your conversation with her, there were moments where she lied."

That struck a chord. Florian saw the shift immediately—the sharpening of Heinz’s gaze, subtle yet unmistakable.

"Where?"

"We couldn’t pinpoint which answers were untrue," Florian admitted, shaking his head slightly.

Heinz nodded, his composure unbroken. He didn’t look surprised.

"And the test?"

Florian hesitated for only a moment before replying, his words measured. "She panicked. But..." He took a breath, recalling the scene vividly. "She stayed in the room to pray for your safety. She was crying, shaking—completely terrified—but she didn’t tell anyone about what had happened."

Florian waited, expecting a question, a remark, anything. But once again, Heinz only nodded.

The tightness in Florian’s chest grew, the frustration simmering beneath his steady demeanor.

’That’s it? That’s all?’

The words echoed in his head, but he kept them firmly locked behind his clenched teeth.

With a quiet exhale, he stepped forward, extending the stack of papers he’d been holding. Heinz took them with practiced ease, his eyes dropping to the neatly written notes. The room descended into silence, the sound of shifting paper filling the space.

Florian stood still, though his weight shifted ever so slightly from foot to foot, his eyes flicking between Heinz and the notes. There was something in the air, unspoken, pulling at the edges of his thoughts.

Then, the question surfaced, unbidden. It gnawed at him with sharp insistence, refusing to be ignored.

His fingers curled into tight fists at his sides as he struggled with the decision to speak. His gaze lingered on Heinz—on the way he seemed so effortlessly composed, as if nothing in this world could crack his carefully maintained exterior.

’Should I ask him about the thought I had earlier? Just to confirm...’

Florian hadn’t realized how intently he was staring until Heinz, without even looking up, broke the silence.

"What is it?"

The words jolted him. Florian stiffened, his posture straightening instinctively. "I—" He faltered, the weight of his thoughts holding him back.

This was his chance to back out. To let it go.

But the question clawed at him, demanding to be voiced.

He swallowed, his voice quieter but no less determined. "Your Majesty... was the cause of your death in your first life... poisoning?"

For the first time, Heinz’s steady mask cracked.

He looked up, meeting Florian’s gaze directly.

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the room felt heavier, the air tense with the unspoken.

Then, Heinz chuckled—a quiet, low sound that seemed to carry a weight of its own.

"You’re quite clever, Florian."