Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!
Chapter 50: ’Are They A Threat?’

Chapter 50: ’Are They A Threat?’

"I shall remain on the side in case you need anything, Your Majesty, Your Highness. I will also bring some refreshments," Lucius said, his tone perfectly polite and respectful. It was so formal that Florian had to fight back a cringe.

’He’s acting so different.’ Florian thought. The Lucius he knew was anything but stiff or formal when they were alone. The contrast was almost comedic, though he supposed Lucius’s impeccable demeanor was expected in front of the king.

It was funny, though—Lucius had always been professional in the novel, no matter the situation. He only dropped the mask of formality during their private, intimate moments. Moments Florian would rather not dwell on, given how drastically his circumstances had changed.

"Much appreciated, Lucius," Heinz said without looking up, his tone dry and bored as he scanned the papers in his hand.

’Of course, he’s reading something,’ Florian thought, feeling the familiar awkwardness of being in Heinz’s presence. The man exuded an aura of authority that was almost suffocating.

Not knowing what else to do, Florian sat down stiffly, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his tunic. The silence stretched, broken only by the rustle of paper as Heinz flipped a page.

Lucius had mentioned before that Heinz tailored his interactions with each princess based on Florian’s reports—their likes, dislikes, and habits. But now, Florian couldn’t help but wonder why Heinz had chosen the garden for him.

’It’s a beautiful place, but what does it say about me?’ Florian thought, his gaze wandering over the vibrant flowers. He’d never paid much attention to the garden before. The last time he’d been here was for the tea party with the princesses, and he’d been too preoccupied to notice the scenery.

"You must be wondering why I brought you here," Heinz said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet.

Florian flinched, startled by the unexpected comment. He let out an awkward laugh, hoping it masked his nerves. "Well, yes, Your Majesty. Though I don’t mind assisting with the village task, I just assumed it was something meant primarily for the queen candidates."

Heinz didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he placed the papers on the table with deliberate care, his movements measured. Florian watched him closely, trying to decipher the king’s expression, but Heinz’s face remained impassive.

"Your reports on the princesses’ interests are accurate," Heinz said finally, his tone neutral.

"Yes? That’s...great?" Florian replied hesitantly. He wasn’t sure what to make of the statement. ’Does he think I fabricated them?’

"If only they were more thorough—perhaps more personal," Heinz continued, his gaze sharp. "It’s not enough to know how to approach them."

’Did he bring me here just to critique my reports?’ Florian wondered, stifling a sigh.

He forced a polite smile. "Yes, I’ll work on that, Your Majesty. The truth is...the princesses still see me as—well, I’m not sure what they see me as. I just know they dislike me. Which is understandable, considering that, at the end of the day, I’m still a man."

"Do you truly believe that’s the reason?" Heinz asked abruptly, his piercing gaze fixed on Florian.

Florian blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Well, I cannot see another reason. I don’t think they view me as a threat. It’s been well-established that I am not, even when I was..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "...acting rather childish."

Heinz leaned back in his chair, his attention shifting to the garden. His eyes lingered on a particular flower—a striking rainbow-colored bloom with sharp thorns.

"Do you see any of them as a threat?" he asked, his tone casual but his words deliberate.

Florian froze, his mind racing. "Pardon?"

’What does he mean by that?’

"I mean," Heinz clarified, "do you believe any of them are not what they seem?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. Florian bit his lower lip, unsure how to respond. ’That’s...an odd question. But maybe he’s testing me. Perhaps he wants to know if any of the princesses harbor ill intentions. After all, one of them might become queen.’

His eyes flicked to Lucius, who stood nearby, close enough to overhear the conversation. Lucius met Florian’s gaze, his expression calm and composed. With a subtle nod, he encouraged Florian to speak honestly.

"To be honest, I think they’re as genuine as they can be," Florian said slowly, choosing his words with care. "Even Princess Scarlett doesn’t bother hiding her contempt for people."

His gaze drifted to a pair of figures in the distance—a red-haired princess and her orange-haired companion. Though far away, Florian immediately recognized them as Scarlett and Camilla.

"As much as I...don’t get along with them," he continued, "it doesn’t seem like they mean any harm."

He paused, glancing back at Heinz. The king’s expression was unreadable, his sharp eyes giving nothing away.

"After all," Florian added, his voice quieter, "they were all offerings from their kingdoms to you, Your Majesty."

’They’re just trying to survive.’

The silence that followed felt oppressive, and Florian resisted the urge to fidget. He couldn’t tell if Heinz was satisfied with his answer or not.

Finally, Heinz leaned forward, picking up his papers again. "Hmm," was all he said, his tone as unreadable as his expression. "Right, offerings by different kingdoms."

Florian let out a quiet breath, feeling like he’d just passed some sort of test. But as he glanced at Lucius, he saw the faintest hint of a smile on the man’s lips—a smile that said, You handled that well.

Silence stretched between them once again, and this time it was far from comfortable. The stillness felt heavy, pressing against Florian like an unseen weight.

Unable to help himself, Florian stole a glance at Heinz from the corner of his eye, hoping to gauge the king’s mood. He fully expected to see the same indifferent, unreadable expression that Heinz so often wore—a mask of stoicism that gave away nothing.

But when Florian’s gaze landed on him, his breath hitched.

Heinz’s face was dark, his sharp features set in an expression that could only be described as...angry.

Florian’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. ’Angry? Why would he be angry?’

His mind raced to find the answer. Had he said something wrong? Was it his tone? Perhaps his hesitation had given the wrong impression. Florian replayed the conversation in his head, searching for the moment he might have misstepped.

’No, I was careful. I answered honestly, just like Lucius encouraged me to. Then what is it?’

Heinz’s gaze was fixed on the rainbow-colored flower with its sharp thorns, but his focus seemed far away, as though his thoughts were spiraling into a place Florian couldn’t reach. His fingers gripped the edge of the papers he held, the subtle tightening of his hand betraying the tension he was trying to suppress.

Florian swallowed, the sight unsettling. Heinz was always composed, always in control. To see him like this, even for a moment, felt wrong—like witnessing something he wasn’t supposed to see.

"Your Majesty?" Florian asked cautiously, his voice softer than usual, testing the waters.

Heinz didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly exhaled through his nose, as though forcing himself to remain calm. When he finally turned to Florian, the storm in his eyes had not fully dissipated.

"You seem uneasy," Heinz said, his tone deceptively even, though there was an undercurrent of something Florian couldn’t quite place.

Florian blinked, caught off guard by the observation. "Oh, no, I—" He stopped himself, realizing how unconvincing he sounded. He took a breath and tried again. "I’m just...concerned. You seemed upset, Your Majesty."

Heinz’s gaze didn’t waver. "Do you often concern yourself with the moods of others?"

’Is this a test? Or is he deflecting?’ Florian wondered, his heart beating faster.

"I believe it’s natural to notice such things," Florian said carefully, keeping his tone neutral. "Especially when it involves someone as important as Your Majesty."

For a moment, Heinz’s lips twitched, as if he were on the verge of saying something. But instead, he leaned back in his chair, his hand relaxing on the papers.

"Important," Heinz repeated, almost to himself. His voice was quieter now, contemplative.

The tension in the air didn’t dissipate, but it shifted, becoming something more subdued. Florian’s curiosity burned, but he knew better than to press further. Instead, he glanced at Lucius, who stood at a respectful distance, still within earshot. Lucius’s expression remained calm, but there was a faint crease in his brow, as though he too had noticed the change in Heinz’s demeanor.

’Even Lucius looks unsure,’ Florian thought. ’What could possibly have caused this reaction?’

Florian’s thoughts were interrupted by the soft clink of a tray being set down on the table. He looked up to see Lucius carefully placing a teapot, two delicate cups, and a plate of neatly arranged biscuits. His movements were as polished and efficient as ever, his expression unreadable.

"Tea and biscuits, Your Majesty. Your Highness," Lucius said, bowing slightly as he stepped back.

"Thank you, Lucius," Heinz replied, his tone calm and indifferent as he reached for the teapot.

Florian quickly followed. "Yes, thank you," he said, trying to sound equally composed, though the unease in his chest made his voice come out softer than intended.

Lucius nodded and moved a step back, resuming his position nearby but out of the way.

Heinz poured the tea with steady hands, the fragrant steam curling up between them. Florian hesitated before picking up his own cup, taking a tentative sip. The warmth was soothing, but his mind remained restless.

For a while, they sat in silence, the only sounds being the faint rustle of leaves in the garden and the occasional clink of porcelain as they sipped their tea. Florian forced himself to nibble on a biscuit, though he barely tasted it. His thoughts were elsewhere, focused on what he knew was coming.

After a moment, Heinz set his cup down, his sharp eyes flicking to Florian. "Once you’ve finished, you’re free to go," he said. "I suggest you rest early and take the entire day off. Tomorrow will be long and tiring."

Florian froze for a split second, his cup halfway to his lips. The words sounded innocuous, but they hit him like a stone dropping into his stomach. Heinz, of course, was referring to the village visit—a task Florian had already been dreading. But Florian’s knowledge extended beyond that.

Tomorrow wasn’t just about the village.

’The kidnapping,’ he thought grimly, his grip tightening slightly on the delicate teacup.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, forcing a small nod. "Of course, Your Majesty," he replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his mind.

Heinz’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the papers on the table, his demeanor calm and unreadable.

Florian, on the other hand, was anything but calm. The idea of saying something about the kidnapping clawed at him, an insistent voice in the back of his mind.

’Should I tell him?’ he wondered, his heart pounding. ’If I warn him, maybe he could stop it. He’s the king, after all. If anyone could prevent it, it’s him.’

But then another thought crept in, chilling him to the core.

’What if he gets angry? What if he thinks I’m involved? How else would I know something like this? He might think I orchestrated it myself.’

The memory of Heinz’s dark expression earlier flashed in his mind, and Florian felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. He had seen firsthand how cold and calculating Heinz could be. If he gave the wrong impression—even unintentionally—he could end up in serious trouble.

’I can’t risk it,’ Florian decided, his chest tightening. ’Not now. I’ll just have to handle it tomorrow.’

With that, he set down his empty teacup, standing carefully. "Thank you for the tea, Your Majesty," he said with a small bow.

Heinz nodded once, his attention already back on the papers.

Florian turned to leave, his steps steady but his mind racing. Lucius opened the door for him, offering a faint, unreadable smile as Florian passed.

As he stepped into the corridor, the cool air hit him, and he exhaled shakily. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his resolve hardening.

’Tomorrow,’ he thought, his jaw tightening. ’I’ll figure it out tomorrow. No matter what happens, I have to be ready.’