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Chapter 48: ’A Few Days Later’

Chapter 48: ’A Few Days Later’

It had officially been a few days—more than a week, in fact—since Florian found himself in this strange new reality, and only a handful of notable things had occurred during that time.

First, there was the peculiar recovery. After waking up one morning feeling utterly drained, both physically and emotionally, Florian had expected the sensation to linger. Instead, he awoke the following day feeling better than ever, as if a weight had been lifted.

It wasn’t hard to come to a conclusion: whenever he was in a vulnerable position or mentally unwell, memories and emotions from the original Florian seemed to surface.

’It’s only a theory,’ he thought, ’but it’s a solid one.’

The pattern had become too obvious to ignore. Every time he lost control—when Scarlett humiliated him, not once but twice, or when Lucius had come dangerously close to crossing a line, or even when fear of Heinz left him paralyzed—those intrusive fragments of the original Florian’s life and feelings reared their ugly heads.

What continued to puzzle him, though, was the mix of the memories. Some were clearly things the original Florian had experienced, while others seemed to be glimpses of events that hadn’t even happened yet. That dissonance left him unsettled, as though he were standing on the edge of something he couldn’t fully understand.

The second thing of note was the announcement that Florian was no longer allowed to eat with the princesses—a unanimous request from the royal harem. Florian wasn’t surprised. Honestly, he was relieved. Meals in the company of the princesses had always been tense, and now he could dine in peace—or, at least, relative peace. Most of his meals were now taken in his room with Cashew for company.

And Lucius.

Lucius, who seemed to spend more time in Florian’s room than anywhere else whenever he wasn’t occupied with managing the palace or preparing for the upcoming visit.

Florian couldn’t decide whether Lucius’s constant presence was comforting or suffocating. Cashew, at least, gave him space when needed, bustling about silently or leaving Florian to his thoughts. But with Lucius around, Florian was perpetually on edge. It was as though the man’s very existence disrupted his ability to focus.

Thankfully, today was an exception. Lucius was swamped with preparations for tomorrow’s village visit, leaving Florian blessedly alone with Cashew.

Tomorrow.

The word hung over Florian like a shadow, heavy and ominous. Tomorrow was the day the kidnapping was supposed to happen.

And he still wasn’t prepared.

"I heard His Majesty has been visiting the princesses the past few days, Your Highness," Cashew said, breaking the silence. He was spraying water over Florian’s carefully tended plants, his tone light but curious.

"Yes," Florian replied absently, his eyes fixed on the blank parchment in front of him. "It’s for the village visit. They’re preparing."

"Preparing for what?" Cashew asked, his head tilting slightly.

Florian glanced up, his mind drifting back to the novel’s intricate details. "A king having a harem is rare in Concordia," he began, crossing his legs as he leaned back in his chair.

"Usually, a king has one queen and, at most, one or two concubines. That’s it. In cases where a king has only one partner, the queen shares responsibilities during visits like this. While the king focuses on protecting and providing, the queen’s role is to assist the villagers—providing food, medicine, and other necessities."

Cashew nodded, listening intently.

"The queen’s actions reflect the royal family’s kindness," Florian continued. "It’s an Obsidian family tradition—a way of strengthening the people’s trust and loyalty. The king oversees her efforts, of course, to ensure everything runs smoothly and to present a unified front."

"And what about kings with concubines?" Cashew asked curiously.

"In that case, the queen’s tasks are divided among her and the concubines," Florian explained. "The queen takes on the more important responsibilities, while the concubines handle smaller, menial tasks. The king still supervises, but he divides his time among the women."

"But His Majesty doesn’t have a queen yet," Cashew pointed out.

"Exactly," Florian said with a wry smile. "That’s why he’s dedicating each day to spending time with at least two of the princesses. He’s assessing their skills and personalities to assign them tasks that suit them best."

’In the novel, Heinz didn’t even bother with Florian,’ he thought bitterly. ’He already deemed him useless. The only reason Florian went along was because he had to.’

"T-Then why isn’t His Majesty spending time with you, Your Highness?" Cashew asked hesitantly.

Florian’s smile didn’t falter. "I’m not a queen candidate," he said simply. It was the truth. Heinz’s announcement had made that perfectly clear. Of course, the real reason, as Florian well knew, was that Heinz couldn’t stand the sight of him.

"But you’re still going with them?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Florian sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I don’t have a choice. Oh well, I might just grace them with my presence," he added with a soft chuckle, his tone light and teasing.

Cashew hesitated, worry flickering across his face. But when Florian laughed, the tension in the room eased, and he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Florian leaned back further in his chair, letting out a soft sigh as he tried to focus on the gentle rhythm of Cashew tending to his plants. The sound of water misting onto leaves and the faint rustle of foliage should have been calming. It almost was. But no matter how hard he tried to let go of his worries, his thoughts kept circling back to the one thing he wished he could stop thinking about.

The kidnapping.

His chest tightened as the weight of tomorrow pressed down on him. He’d been trying to push it aside, to convince himself that he had more time, more options. But the reality of it all loomed over him, dark and inescapable.

’Why can’t I just feel relieved?’ he thought bitterly, closing his eyes for a moment. ’I have one quiet day to myself, and I can’t even enjoy it.’

But how could he? The clock was ticking, and he was no closer to figuring out a solution. Telling the knights was the most obvious choice, the most logical one. They’d take the threat seriously, and maybe they could even stop it from happening.

But then came the problem.

’How the hell would I explain how I knew?’

The question hit him like a punch to the gut every time he considered it. There was no plausible way for him to have that kind of information. It wasn’t like he could casually explain,

"Oh, I just happen to know the plot of a novel because I was reincarnated into this world."

And if he couldn’t explain, it would raise suspicion.

’Neglected prince orchestrates kidnapping for attention,’ he imagined them saying. He could already picture the looks of disdain and pity, the whispers that would ripple through the palace. It didn’t matter that the accusation would be false. It would spread, poisoning the air around him even more than it already had.

His reputation was already in tatters. A "useless" foreign prince in a kingdom that valued strength, power, and magic—a kingdom where he had none of those things. The original Florian had been looked down on for so long that the idea of him doing something desperate for recognition wasn’t far-fetched in the eyes of others.

He rubbed his temples, the beginnings of a headache creeping in.

’Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,’ he thought, the frustration bubbling in his chest.

But what other choice did he have? He didn’t know who was behind the kidnapping, what their motivations were, or even what they planned to do with the princesses. The only thing he did know was the outcome if no one intervened—and it wasn’t good.

"Are you all right, Your Highness?" Cashew’s gentle voice broke through his spiraling thoughts.

Florian opened his eyes, forcing a faint smile as he sat up straight again. "I’m fine, Cashew. Just thinking."

Cashew frowned slightly but didn’t press further. He returned to his work, quietly humming a tune under his breath.

Florian’s gaze drifted back to the blank parchment in front of him. He picked up the quill resting on the desk, twirling it absently between his fingers. Maybe he should write down his thoughts, map out the possibilities, and see if anything made sense.

’But what would I even write?’ he wondered, staring at the empty space.

He put the quill down, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk and bury his face in his hands. "This is hopeless," he muttered under his breath.

Cashew looked up from the plants, concern flickering across his face again. "Your Highness—"

"Don’t worry about me," Florian interrupted quickly, sitting up and giving Cashew another reassuring smile. "Really, I’m fine."

Cashew hesitated but eventually nodded, returning to his work.

Florian stared at the parchment again, his mind racing.

If telling the knights wasn’t an option, then what? Could he warn the princesses? No, they wouldn’t believe him, and even if they did, what could they do? He didn’t have allies, and he certainly didn’t have the resources to stop an entire kidnapping plot on his own.

The bitter truth settled over him like a heavy cloak. He was powerless. A prince in name only, trapped in a kingdom where magic was a birthright he didn’t possess, and respect was a currency he didn’t have.

’Useless,’ he thought, the word echoing like a taunt in his mind.

There was a knock at the door, sharp and unexpected, shattering the tense quiet of the room. Florian flinched, his thoughts scattering as he glanced toward the door. Before he could even respond, the door creaked open, and Lucius stepped inside.

Florian’s eyes widened at the sight of him. Lucius, who was always the picture of composure, looked... frazzled. His usually pristine uniform was slightly askew, his hair was mussed as though he’d run his hands through it one too many times, and there was a faint, tense crease between his brows.

Florian straightened in his chair, his heart skipping a beat. The last time Lucius had looked this disturbed, it hadn’t ended well for him. He tried to keep his voice steady as he asked, "What happened?"

Lucius closed the door behind him with a quiet click, his movements unusually stiff. He turned to face Florian, his expression grim. "The king is waiting for you in the garden."

Florian blinked, confused. "The garden? Why?"

Lucius hesitated for the briefest moment, as if reluctant to answer. Then, with a sigh, he stepped closer, his face serious. "Apparently, it’s your turn."

Florian frowned, not understanding. "My turn for what?"

"To spend time with His Majesty."

Florian’s face dropped, his breath catching in his throat. "What?"

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