Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!
Chapter 325: ’Precious, Too Precious.’

Chapter 325: ’Precious, Too Precious.’

After Lancelot told Florian everything, the room fell into a tense, fragile silence. Florian’s face was lowered, his curly bangs casting shadows over his eyes, obscuring his expression entirely.

Lancelot shifted uneasily, studying him.’Is he... crying?’ he wondered, his brows pulling together. The idea alone made his chest ache.

But then—

Florian exhaled, long and heavy, like he was holding back a storm."That..." he began, voice low.

And when he finally looked up, Lancelot was startled.

Not tears.Rage.

Florian’s eyes burned—not with grief, but with fury. His lips curled, and his fists trembled slightly at his sides.

"That bastard!" he snarled, his voice raw and rising. It jolted Lancelot to hear such venom in that usually soft voice.

’He’s angry,’ Lancelot thought, blinking in surprise. ’He’s not even crying... he’s furious.’

"I knew he was an asshole, but not that kind of an asshole! What the fuck?!" Florian’s voice crescendoed into a yell, echoing in the room. He was pacing now, animated with righteous indignation. "Listen, Lancelot. Don’t you dare give him the satisfaction! I’ll help you. We’ll talk to His Majesty. We’ll make a plan. We’ll outsmart that bastard and get your mother back—you hear me?"

Lancelot stared at him. His vision blurred—not from tears, but from something just as overwhelming.

Hope.Support.Someone standing with him, not above or behind.

Florian kept ranting, eyes ablaze. "I can’t believe that man! The audacity. Andrew doesn’t even look like he’s tough shit! Walking around like he’s—"

Lancelot suddenly stepped forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Florian gasped, the words dying on his tongue. "L-Lancelot? Why are you hugging me again?"

Lancelot didn’t respond immediately.

The truth was—he missed this. Not the hug. Not even the warmth.

He missed him.

For weeks, he’d taken mission after mission. Petty skirmishes, meaningless tasks—assignments his knights could’ve handled blindfolded. But they weren’t distractions. They were avoidance.

Avoidance of the one person he didn’t know how to face anymore.

He had heard the rumors. And he wasn’t blind. Heinz had been hovering more, smiling more when Florian was around. There was something in the air between them. A quiet tension. A closeness that made his chest tighten.

He wasn’t stupid, either.

During the aphrodisiac incident—when Florian had been too quiet the morning after, and Heinz had been different—Lancelot knew.

That kind of potion didn’t wear off easily. Not without help. And Heinz had been the one to stay.

The next time Lancelot saw him, Heinz had looked changed.

It had haunted him ever since.

And Heinz... was king.

Lancelot could never steal from the man he served.

But it wasn’t just loyalty.

It was fear—that maybe, just maybe, Florian had already given his heart away.

Because Florian had never once looked at him the way Lancelot looked at Florian.

He had known from the beginning that Florian wasn’t interested. That Lucius’s constant flirting was brushed off not because of Lancelot, but because Florian simply... didn’t want that. Didn’t want them.

Lancelot had accepted it.

Or tried to.

But still...

Still, he yearned for him.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing about it did. Yet it felt like something deep in his bones was whispering that—somewhere, sometime—Florian had been his. That maybe in another life, or another world, they’d had something real.

And now, seeing Florian rage for him... fight for him...

’It’s unfair,’ Lancelot thought, heart aching. ’How can I not fall harder?’

He pulled back only slightly, just enough to press a soft, reverent kiss to the top of Florian’s head.

"Thank you, My Prince," he murmured against his curls, holding him just a bit tighter—because letting go felt like tearing his soul in two.

"W-What... wha—" Florian stumbled back, flustered, his face redder than Scarlett’s hair. "Why... why would you—?!"

He looked too shocked to even finish the sentence.

Lancelot burst into laughter. The sound was sudden, rich, and completely unguarded. For the first time in days, he felt lighter.

"It was just my thanks," he said through his grin, "for making me feel better. I’ll speak to His Majesty after the summit."

He turned, hiding his face before he could do something even dumber—like kiss him again.

"Thank you for providing your comforts, My Prince," he said teasingly, glancing over his shoulder. "I’ll leave you to your rest."

"You—!" Florian spluttered behind him, still clearly flustered.

Lancelot laughed again as he opened the door, the knot in his chest unraveling just a bit.

’I have to find whoever’s targeting him,’ he thought as he stepped into the hall. ’I have to make sure he’s never kidnapped again. He’s too precious... far too precious.’

Meanwhile...

"Is everything ready?" the hooded figure asked, voice low and sharp like a dagger in the dark.

They stood in a shadowed alley, the only light spilling from a flickering lantern a few paces away. The air was thick with dampness and the distant scent of smoke—perfect for a meeting meant to be forgotten.

The tall, burly man across from him didn’t flinch. His arms were crossed, face partially hidden beneath a stained cowl, but his expression was cocky.

"Of course everything’s ready," he replied, his voice gruff with impatience. "My men are eyeing him as we speak."

The hooded figure scanned the alley again, making sure no eyes watched from windows, no ears lingered nearby. When he spoke again, his voice was cold, calculated.

"You will kidnap him after three days. Not before. Not after." Stepping closer, the shadows of the cloak almost swallowing the space between them. "And make sure you don’t make the same mistakes as the others. He is smarter and tougher than he looks."

The burly man scoffed, but there was a flicker of unease in his posture."We don’t make mistakes," he grunted. "We’re not amateurs like the last fools."

He leaned in slightly, just enough that his breath could be felt through the hooded figure’s mask. "Just don’t forget about the payment. My men don’t risk their lives to kidnap a prince for free."

"Perfect."