Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!
Chapter 41: ’A Game Of Sympathy’

Chapter 41: ’A Game Of Sympathy’

"What do I do when they ask about King Heinz summoning me?" Florian abruptly stopped in his tracks, the echo of his boots resounding in the quiet hallway.

The two trailing behind him—Cashew and Lucius—halted as well, exchanging a brief glance. Florian turned to face Lucius, though his gaze was carefully averted, not quite meeting Lucius’ eyes.

"They’re bound to ask," Florian continued, his voice laced with anxiety. "Judging by everything we’ve observed in the reports, the princesses are curious—and some are even outright angry—that His Majesty keeps summoning me."

Florian exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. The tension in his shoulders was evident. He understood why they were upset. The original Florian had never been summoned. Not once. In fact, he had been entirely ignored by Heinz until the day of his execution.

’And yet here I am, breaking that pattern,’ Florian thought bitterly.

The princesses had been in the harem for a month now, and during that time, Heinz had regularly met with them—whether for conversations, meals, or the occasional royal obligation. But since his abrupt announcement that he was seeking a wife, the king had seemingly gone silent.

In their eyes, Florian realized, Heinz was ignoring them while inexplicably paying attention to him.

’Which is half true,’ Florian mused. ’In reality, Heinz barely leaves his office or room. All his decisions hinge on my reports. He’s not even roaming the palace like he did in the novel.’

Lucius’ steady voice broke through Florian’s spiraling thoughts. "You can say that His Majesty is assigning you work. After all, you are still a noble."

Florian frowned. "Yes, but I’m also still part of the harem. Ignored or not, the princesses are going to question why I’m working."

Lucius tilted his head slightly, as if considering his next words carefully. "You could say that you’re earning your way out of the harem, Your Highness. That might garner sympathy."

"Sympathy?" Florian echoed, his skepticism evident. "How would that build sympathy? They see me as a threat. With how the original Florian acted, it’s no wonder they’re wary of me."

Lucius’ lips twitched into a faint, knowing smirk. "They may see you as a threat now, but framing your actions as the struggles of someone trying to prove their worth could soften that image. I’ll teach you how to position it properly."

"You see..." Florian’s voice cracked as tears began to slide down his cheeks, slow and deliberate, catching everyone in the dining hall off guard.

"Y-Your Highness?" one of the princesses’ maids stammered, exchanging wide-eyed looks with the others. This wasn’t the first time Florian had been seen crying—after all, the original Florian was notorious for throwing tantrums and sobbing when Heinz ignored him.

But this was different.

This wasn’t a desperate display of begging at Heinz’s feet. This was quiet, dignified sorrow. It was elegant. It was pitiful. And it was working.

"I have accepted my defeat," Florian choked out, his voice trembling as he dabbed his face with a napkin. "I know His Majesty will never love me... and so I asked him if I could go home."

A collective gasp echoed through the hall, though Scarlett’s face remained a mask of fury, and Bridget simply furrowed her brow in surprise.

"B-But Prince Florian, that would mean the destruction of your kingdom!" Alexandria exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.

Florian nodded solemnly, allowing the weight of her words to settle in the air. "I know... That’s what I thought at first. That’s why I acted out..." He let his voice crack again, clutching the napkin to his face, though he peeked through the fabric to gauge their reactions.

’Lucius was right. They’re eating this up.’

Alexandria was the first to speak again, her voice hesitant but filled with curiosity. "So... you mean... the reason you pestered His Majesty and did all those things was because you wanted him to send you home?"

Florian lowered the napkin slightly, his red-rimmed eyes glistening with tears. "Yes... I-I just wanted to go home so badly. I didn’t want to be here..." His tone was shaky and drenched in anguish.

By now, even Bridget and Mira, who typically maintained a detached demeanor, were looking at him with traces of sympathy.

"When His Majesty announced he was taking a bride," Florian continued, "I finally gathered the courage to ask him if I could leave... because I knew I would never be an option. And... I didn’t want to be."

Mira’s sharp eyes softened as she leaned forward. "What did he say?"

’Two princesses down,’ Florian thought as he sniffled and wiped his cheeks. "He got mad. Rightfully so... After all, I am an offering to His Majesty, a representative of my kingdom. My duty was clear from the beginning, and I failed to fulfill it."

"Then why does he keep summoning you?" Bridget interjected, her gaze skeptical yet curious.

Florian hesitated, his fingers tightening on the napkin. "Because... His Majesty, ever so kind and noble, granted me a chance. I—I can’t share the details, but he’s given me an opportunity to prove myself, to earn my way home."

’Only the last part is a lie,’ Florian thought grimly. ’Heinz hasn’t agreed to let me go home. But that’s not going to stop me.’

"Why can’t you tell us the details?" Bridget pressed, her tone sharp.

Before Florian could respond, Lucius stepped forward, his voice calm and authoritative. "His Majesty made Prince Florian swear not to reveal the specifics of his task. If he does, the deal will be void. However, His Majesty permitted the prince to share enough to ease the princesses’ concerns, as His Majesty is aware of the frustrations circulating within the harem."

Lucius glanced briefly at Florian, who nodded, as though confirming his words.

"I do not wish to be a stranger to the princesses," Florian added, his voice trembling again. "I asked His Majesty for permission to explain my circumstances. I... just want to befriend you all. I know my past actions have made you wary of me, and I take full responsibility for that."

"Oh my..." Alexandria murmured, her hand pressed over her chest as she looked at him with visible pity.

Bridget and Mira exchanged thoughtful glances, their expressions softening as they mulled over his words. Even some of the maids in the background were dabbing their eyes, clearly moved by the prince’s sorrowful tale.

’Come on,’ Florian thought, his heart racing. ’Say something. Anything. Be my friend.’

And then—

"Pfft."

The sound cut through the emotional tension like a blade, turning every head toward Scarlett, who was smirking as though she’d just heard the most ridiculous joke of her life.

"Are you serious, Prince Florian?" she asked, leaning back in her chair with a scoff. "Do you honestly expect any of us to believe those crocodile tears of yours?"

Florian froze, his tear-streaked face turning toward her as a single thought echoed in his mind.

’What?’

The tension in the dining hall was thick enough to cut with a blade.

Scarlett crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair with a smug expression plastered across her face. "Well? Are you going to tell them, Prince Florian?"

Mira frowned, her piercing gaze shifting between Florian and Scarlett. "What do you mean, Lady Scarlett? What exactly are you accusing him of?"

"Yes," Alexandria chimed in, her usually calm tone tinged with exasperation. "Lady Scarlett, if you’re just looking for another excuse to pick a fight with Prince Florian, then—"

Scarlett interrupted with a derisive laugh, the kind that sent a shiver down Florian’s spine. "Pick a fight? Please. I don’t need excuses for that. No, I’m simply pointing out the obvious." She leaned forward, her sharp gaze locking onto Florian. "Those tears of his? Fake."

The room fell silent.

Scarlett smirked, reveling in the attention she’d drawn. "I come from the most politically savvy and powerful kingdom next to Concordia. As heir, I was trained to detect lies from a young age. I know what genuine tears look like, and those?" She jabbed a finger in Florian’s direction. "They’re nothing but an act. And not a particularly convincing one, either."

Florian’s eyes widened as he blinked at her, feigning surprise. "I-I don’t understand what you’re saying, Lady Scarlett." His voice trembled, perfectly mimicking the hurt of someone wrongly accused.

But internally, he was spiraling.

’What the hell?! Scarlett saw through it? I expected this from Bridget, maybe Mira—but Scarlett? She’s actually using her brain?!’

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