Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 527

"Your Majesty?" Florian called softly, shifting against the heavy weight that pinned him down.

His back ached—dull, constant, the sort of ache that came from nights without reprieve—but he still tried to twist his body just enough to glance over his shoulder.

There he was.

Heinz.

Eyes closed, face calm, looking for all the world as though he were in the deepest of sleeps.

As if he weren't the very reason Florian's back had never gotten a proper break.

'He's awake. I know he is.'

For the past few days—no, nights—they'd been tangled up like this, "fooling around" as Florian liked to call it in the privacy of his own mind.

And in that time, he'd learned. He'd learned the cadence of Heinz's breathing, the subtle shifts of his chest, the faintest tension in his body. He knew the difference between genuine slumber and feigned sleep.

And right now, Heinz was feigning. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Your Majesty, I know you're awake," Florian said, his voice firmer this time. He jabbed a finger into Heinz's side, earning nothing more than silence.

Florian scowled. His patience was not endless.

"Heinz," he said again, sharper now.

Finally, Heinz's eyes opened. Amusement glimmered in them like sunlight catching steel, a smug curve tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Took you long enough," he murmured, his voice low and warm in the stillness.

Florian's scowl deepened, though his cheeks betrayed him with the faintest heat.

He resisted—barely—the urge to roll his eyes, because that would only feed into Heinz's satisfaction.

The king's hand shifted, brushing lazily across Florian's side, a touch both possessive and unhurried.

"Didn't I tell you," Heinz continued, "to start calling me Heinz when we're alone?" His gaze softened, though his smirk did not fade. "Using my title, here, when it's just the two of us… it doesn't quite fit, does it?"

'Yes, but I still can't get used to calling you just Heinz out loud.'

Florian thought, biting down his hesitation as he gave a small nod. "I have a question. Just… a random question."

Heinz shifted against him, one brow arching, but his tone came out indulgent. "Alright. Go ahead."

Florian inhaled, steadying himself. "Did the original Florian ever get letters from his family?"

The reaction was immediate. He felt the subtle stiffening of the muscles pressed against him, as though every line of Heinz's body had been struck by invisible tension.

Florian's eyes narrowed slightly. "Heinz?"

The king's expression faltered—the amusement from moments ago wiped clean, leaving behind something sharper, heavier.

His face dropped into a shadowed seriousness, and Florian recognized it instantly. It wasn't the first time. Every time he mentioned the original Florian, Heinz's composure cracked, just for a heartbeat.

A grimace, a shadow, something hidden.

And it always left Florian unsettled.

'It happened again. What in the world happened during those four days he disappeared?'

The question had eaten at him for days now. Whatever it was, it tied directly to the boy who came before him. The one who should've been here instead of him.

Florian clenched his fingers lightly against the sheet, but curiosity gnawed at him harder than fear. He needed to know.

"Well…" He hesitated, then pressed, "the original Florian's mother and sister—they seemed to love him. At least from the memories I've… seen. So, I was wondering if he ever actually received their letters?"

For a long breath, Heinz simply looked at him. His jaw worked, his eyes unreadable, before at last he spoke, clipped and deliberate.

"No. He didn't."

Florian blinked, startled. "Really—"

"Yes." Heinz cut him off sharply. "Letters always went through us. Florian never once received a single one."

The finality in his tone was like a blade slamming down, leaving no room for argument.

"Oh." The word slipped from Florian's lips before he could stop it. His chest tightened faintly.

'But why?'

His mind spun. If his mother and sister had cared, had longed for him, then why—why hadn't he been allowed to see their words? Their reassurances? Their love?

'Did they not like him after all?'

That was what Florian thought at that time.

Florian's eyes snapped toward a familiar silhouette.

White hair that glimmered like snow under candlelight. Eyes, golden as polished amber, watching the crowd with calm detachment.

Lucius.

The one who might—must—hold the answers he needed.

"Lucius…" Florian breathed the name before he could stop himself.

"What, darling?" Leticia asked gently, following his line of sight but clearly not understanding.

"I—I have to go talk to a friend for a bit. Is that okay?" Florian asked quickly, his pulse hammering against his throat.

Mother and daughter exchanged a glance, a silent conversation flashing between them.

Leticia, at last, gave a small nod. "That's fine. It is your party, after all. But…" Her voice softened, motherly concern spilling into it. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine… mom." Florian forced a smile, forcing the word out, letting it hang there between them like a fragile thing.

Leticia sighed, her expression tender. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, her touch warm and fleeting. "Come find us again, okay? I've missed my baby boy so much. And don't forget to speak to your aunts. They've been waiting just as eagerly to see you."

"…Okay." Florian whispered.

He turned, his steps carrying him toward Lucius with urgency clawing at his veins. But he barely made it two strides before a firm grip caught his hand.

"Rian."

The name—so intimate, so sharp on her tongue—halted him in place.

Florian blinked, his brows furrowing as he turned back. Kazaria's fingers wrapped tightly around his, her expression darkened with a frown that didn't suit her youthful face.

"Yes…?" he asked carefully.

Over her shoulder, he could see Leticia drifting away, her skirts sweeping as she moved toward a cluster of women who must have been the "aunts." Yet Kazaria hadn't moved.

She had stayed rooted there, eyes locked on him as though unwilling to let him go.

And something about the weight in her gaze made his stomach twist.

'Why does she suddenly look upset?'