Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!
Chapter 173: ’Problem After Problem’

Chapter 173: ’Problem After Problem’

"Y-Your Highness!"

The moment Florian stepped inside his room, he was enveloped in a tight embrace. Cashew, his ever-loyal attendant, clung to him, voice thick with relief.

Florian exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he returned the hug, resting his chin atop Cashew’s blond head. "Hello, Cashew," he murmured, his voice carrying an unmistakable warmth.

’Ah. Now I feel much better.’

Cashew always had that effect on him. Being with him felt like home—or at least the closest thing to it. Maybe it was because he reminded him so much of Kaz. Like a younger brother.

Or perhaps... it was Florian’s body remembering. The original Florian had taken Cashew under his wing for the same reason.

Cashew pulled back slightly, his eyes wide with lingering worry. "I-I was looking for Your Highness last night... but... I couldn’t find you. The princesses were worried and... I saw Sir Lucius, and he told me you... you got poisoned again..." His voice shook, the last words barely above a whisper.

Florian’s heart clenched at the way Cashew’s lower lip trembled. He placed a gentle hand on the back of his head, fingers threading through soft blond locks in an attempt to soothe him. "I’m fine. I was saved just in time again."

Cashew let out a choked breath, gripping the fabric of Florian’s sleeves. "W-Why does Your Highness always get hurt? I-I couldn’t do anything again."

Florian felt something in him twist. ’Why is he blaming himself?’

"You don’t have to do anything, Cashew," he said firmly. "Just because you serve me doesn’t mean you have to shoulder my burdens. You’re still young."

Cashew shook his head, stubborn as ever. "Y-Your Highness is very kind to me. You took me in... even though palace servants should come from good families... I-I want to do more..."

"You’re doing enough," Florian assured him, squeezing his shoulder. ’He’s so grateful to Florian. How terrible was his life in the orphanage for him to feel this way?’

Cashew didn’t reply, but his small frame trembled, silent tears soaking into Florian’s coat. Florian let out a quiet sigh before ruffling his hair with uncharacteristic fondness.

’Ah. I feel bad now. I must have really worried him... Though, Lucius could’ve just lied to him instead of telling him I got poisoned.’

Florian made a mental note to scold Lucius for that later.

But it seemed he wouldn’t need to.

"Your... Highness?"

Florian’s head snapped up.

Lucius.

He had completely forgotten that he left the door open. And that he was still standing by the entrance. Hugging Cashew.

Cashew immediately pulled away, sniffling as he hurriedly wiped his tears. Florian turned to face Lucius. "Lucius? Aren’t you supposed to be—" He stopped himself. He had almost mentioned Julius. But Cashew was still in the room.

Lucius must have realized this too. His sharp gaze flickered to Cashew. "Cashew, His Highness hasn’t eaten yet. Go and fetch something for him."

Cashew straightened, nodding quickly. "Y-Yes! Right away, Your Highness!" He bowed and rushed out, as if eager to avoid further embarrassment.

’That was fast. Then again, he probably didn’t want Lucius to see him cry.’

As soon as the door shut, Lucius turned back and closed it firmly. Florian narrowed his eyes.

"Did you really have to tell him that I was—"

"Julius is dead."

The words hit Florian like a hammer to the chest. His breath caught, his mind blanking for a moment before the meaning fully registered.

"What?"

"Julius is dead, Your Highness," Lucius repeated, his tone grim. "When I went to retrieve him, to have his memories erased... he was already dead."

"Dead... as in..."

"He was murdered."

Florian’s stomach dropped.

’That fast? That means...’

"I know what you’re thinking," Lucius said, his voice clipped. "His Majesty has already deployed Lancelot and the royal knights to investigate. But he’s ordering discretion. He doesn’t want to cause panic."

Florian clenched his jaw. "He still wants to keep this a secret? Someone was murdered!"

Lucius sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "I don’t know what he’s thinking, but he insists on containing this. He ordered me to walk the palace grounds, to monitor anyone displaying suspicious behavior. Any suspicious emotions."

’What the fuck?’

Florian had barely stepped into his room, and already, he was drowning in problems again.

"He also instructed me to inform you to stay in your room. After Cashew returns, knights will be stationed around your quarters. We cannot risk anything happening to you."

Florian took a few steps back before dropping onto the sofa, running a hand through his hair with a groan. "Whoever is after me is shameless. They actually killed Julius, and for what?"

"If my assumptions are correct... it’s to send a message."

"Send a message?" Florian repeated, his frustration mounting. "Was the aphrodisiac not enough?!" His voice rose, nearly a shout. He couldn’t help it.

Week after week. Problem after problem. It just kept getting worse.

Lucius stepped forward, kneeling in front of him. "We won’t let anything happen to you, Your Highness. I know it’s frustrating, but you have to remain calm." His hand settled over Florian’s, firm yet reassuring.

Florian knew he should push him away. But experiencing BL scenarios was the least of his concerns right now.

And honestly?

He was scared.

Terrified.

He thought execution had been his worst possible fate.

But this—this was worse.

Especially because... whoever was targeting him might not just be some noble seeking revenge.

There was a chance that the person hunting him... was a regressor. Like Heinz.

’I can’t catch a break. This is exhausting.’

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

’Someone’s targeting His Highness?’

Cashew’s breath hitched as he clutched his hands to his chest. His fingers trembled slightly, a weight pressing down on his small frame.

Cashew had always been obedient. That was how he survived. That was how he was taught to be.

He had nothing—not a noble lineage, not a powerful family, not even a last name worth remembering. He was just a lowly orphan, brought into the palace as a servant. And yet... he had never felt resentful. He had been grateful.

Especially to Florian.

His Highness, his prince.

When Florian changed, Cashew hadn’t questioned it. He didn’t mind. If anything, he had felt relieved.

He was relieved that his prince wasn’t crying all day anymore. That Florian had stopped clinging so desperately to the king, begging for his love.

And... if he was being honest with himself, he was glad Florian had grown closer to him instead.

But then Florian was kidnapped. Then poisoned. And now... poisoned again.

Cashew felt helpless.

Completely and utterly helpless.

All he could do was offer Florian a hug. A useless, pitiful hug, as if that alone could protect him from the people trying to hurt him.

He knew Florian was hiding something. He wasn’t a fool. Florian was protecting him.

But Cashew... Cashew wanted to protect Florian too.

And yet, what could he do?

Unlike Sir Lucius or even Sir Lancelot, who had the strength and power to fight for Florian, Cashew could only wait. Sit in this grand palace, in his prince’s empty room, waiting, waiting, waiting—while Florian suffered outside these walls.

And now, to hear that someone was actively targeting Florian...

Cashew was terrified.

A deep, suffocating fear wrapped around his chest, sinking its claws into his heart.

What if—what if one day, Florian didn’t return?

What if one day, he was too late?

What if one day, there was no one left to wait for?

He wanted to help. He needed to help.

But how?

How could a mere servant boy—a thirteen-year-old with no power, no strength—possibly protect his prince?

’What... can I do for His Highness?’ Cashew’s thoughts swirled as he forced his legs to move, walking toward the kitchen to fetch food.

Florian always smiled at him, even when he was hurting. He tried so hard not to make Cashew worry.

Even now, even after being poisoned, Florian had greeted him warmly. Hugged him. Let him cry.

Cashew clenched his fists.

’What can I do for him? His Highness did so much for me. He fought for me when no one else would. He made sure I could stay by his side. He took me away from that awful orphanage...’

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