Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 396

Chapter 396: ’It’s Always Him.’

As Florian’s eyes fluttered open, he begged—pleaded—that he’d see Lancelot.

Or Lucius.

’Even Heinz, please.’

But fate was cruel.

His heart dropped like a stone in his chest.

A stranger stood over him. Gruff. Broad-shouldered. Filthy. A beard like wire and eyes sharp with menace. He held Florian as if he weighed nothing—like he wasn’t a person but cargo.

And behind him... more men.

Armed. Leering. Their armor mismatched, their faces dirty and twisted into smirks. Not soldiers. Not knights.

Predators.

Florian’s breath caught in his throat, the chill of dread slithering down his spine.

’They’re not palace guards or servants... Who are they? What is this?’

"W-Who—who are you?" he croaked out, throat dry, voice trembling like a dying flame. But the question barely left his lips before a rag was shoved into his mouth.

"No questions," one of them hissed, pressing the cloth over his mouth with a gloved hand.

"Mmmph!!" Florian cried out, muffled. ’What the fuck is this?!’

He thrashed, arms struggling weakly, but his body felt disconnected—numb. Every limb was heavy, like stone chained to his bones.

And then—her voice.

Above him.

"Now, now," Alexandria purred from the balcony, her tone light, sweet—mocking. "You know what to do. Go, before anyone sees. We wouldn’t want another dramatic rescue, would we?"

Florian’s blood turned to ice.

He twisted his neck, and there she was—perched like a vulture, watching him with a look of amused disgust.

’No. No. No—She planned this?’

He couldn’t breathe. Not from the cloth, but the betrayal crushing his lungs.

"Didn’t think it would work," the man carrying him grunted. "But shit—turns out you’re even dumber than she said."

Behind them, one of the others laughed. "I thought he’d put up more of a fight. What a letdown."

"Maybe he’ll be more entertaining when he begs," another chimed in with a cruel grin.

Florian’s eyes widened in raw terror.

’Fun...? They’re not just here to kidnap me—’

’This is just like Arthur... like Charles... only worse—’

"Nmmph!! NMM!!" Florian screamed into the cloth, fighting harder. He kicked wildly, his legs flailing, eyes darting toward any shadow, any figure—anyone.

’Please, someone—someone help me—’

But rough hands caught him again, stronger this time, bruising his ribs, twisting his arm. Laughter. Hot breath against his neck. He gagged.

"Struggle all you want, pretty thing," one of them whispered near his ear, voice thick with sadism. "Won’t save you."

He looked up at Alexandria—desperate, pleading, furious.

Her smile hadn’t changed. The same practiced, polished expression she wore when she brought him sweet drinks. When she asked about his health. When she said she believed him.

Now it was unrecognizable—twisted into something gleeful and deranged.

"Such a shame," she sighed dramatically. "If you had just stayed away from His Majesty like you said you would... we might’ve actually gotten along."

’You lying, rotten—’ 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Ywuh bihch!!" he shouted into the cloth, eyes burning, tears of rage and terror spilling over.

But the laughter only grew.

"Sleep," the man carrying him whispered, a single word laced with unnatural weight.

A spell.

It pierced straight into Florian’s skull.

His vision blurred. His muscles slackened. The fire inside him guttered.

’No—please, not again—not again—someone—Hein—!’

The world tilted sideways.

Sound bled into static. Alexandria’s figure blurred.

And then—

Nothing.

Only black.

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

Alexandria was satisfied.

More than satisfied.

She stood at the edge of the balcony, watching with a triumphant gleam in her eyes as the men she hired disappeared into the shadows, taking Florian with them—to gods-know-where. Frankly, she didn’t care. What mattered was that he was gone.

Finally.

"Time to go," she whispered, as if sealing a curse, before slipping back into Florian’s room. With graceful ease, she placed a folded note on his bed—a note she’d penned herself, copying his handwriting down to every delicate curl of ink.

It was a ’farewell’ letter.

A trembling confession that Florian had "run away" in fear of being punished for Delilah’s death. That he "couldn’t take it anymore." That he "saw no escape from Concordia."

And when those filthy brutes were done with him—when they had their fun—they’d kill him. Leave his corpse somewhere it could be "found," with this note nearby.

A perfect lie.

A neat little tragedy, wrapped up in a bow. A prince too scared to face his crimes. A "suicide." No loose ends.

"Finally..." she exhaled, her lips curling into a smile as twisted as the thoughts dancing in her head. "He’s gone. And now, it’ll be just me and His Majesty."

She looked around the room one last time—Florian’s room—and a soft laugh escaped her lips.

When did it start?

When did I start wishing he would just... disappear?

At first, she didn’t care about Prince Florian.

He had been pathetic—lovesick and embarrassing, clinging to His Majesty like a starved mutt. Heinz never paid him much mind, and so neither did she.

Alexandria had always believed she was the favorite. The king visited the princesses regularly, but it was her room he lingered in. Her laugh he returned. Her affections he never refused.

When the king announced his plans to choose a queen, Alexandria had been ecstatic. It’s me, she thought. Of course it’ll be me.

And then—

"Pardon? You said... Prince Florian got summoned by His Majesty? At night?" Alexandria had asked, lips twitching as her maids gossiped like wild birds.

One of them—insignificant, forgettable—had nodded excitedly. "Yes, Lady Delilah was all aflutter about it. Said the prince looked flustered and surprised."

That was when the seed took root.

She started watching Florian.

And she saw it. The shift.

The king began to call on Florian more often. Talk to him longer. Look at him differently.

At first, Alexandria believed Florian was still uninterested—that maybe Heinz was just using him for political matters. So, she thought, ’I’ll befriend him. Gather information. Make him useful.’

Until she realized Heinz wasn’t using Florian—he trusted him. Valued him.

Favored him.

The only one he smiled for.

And Alexandria snapped.

She wanted Florian ruined again—wanted the pathetic, clingy version of him to return. So she could watch him break.

Alexandria had stared at her reflection that night for hours, rage simmering under her skin.

’Did he go to Florian? Again? Always him? What is he planning on doing?’

Everything she tried failed. Everything only made Heinz draw closer to that cursed prince.

FLORIAN.

"And so very deadly."

"I discovered how to lure them—how to coat myself in the flowers that make them follow. How to make them crawl. And do you know what happens when one finds its missing wing?" She leaned in. "It panics. And releases a stress toxin that’s... quite fatal."

She stepped closer. "I need your help to make Florian disappear. I need you to take the fall."

"You’ll know when the time comes," Alexandria whispered. "And if you don’t help me... well—"

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