Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 541

"Request…?" Florian echoed, glancing down at her. His chest tightened. "If… it's to help your kingdom, my lady, I don't think I can—"

"No. Nothing like that, I…" Monica's voice wavered.

Her hands were trembling now, though she stubbornly refused to let go of his. "After reading everything… after knowing what happens…" Her breath shuddered as her pink eyes softened. "All I wish is for it to never happen."

Florian's brows furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"It means…" Monica drew in a deep, uneven breath.

"Hendrix—my son—he is the most important thing in my life. And I know him. He's driven by two things: by the desire to save you… and by the need to save our kingdom. But both of those paths could kill him."

Her voice cracked at the last words, though she steadied herself quickly. "I don't care about my kingdom anymore, not if it means losing him. I only want him alive."

Her lips pressed tight for a moment before she continued. "But I can't tell him I know. Even if he discovered the truth, my stubborn boy would never listen. He would keep pushing forward. And His Majesty…"

She sighed, her shoulders sinking as though weighed down by years of exhaustion. "He seems different now. Not like how I knew him, nor how Hendrix remembers him. He seems to have taken a liking to you."

Florian's eyes widened. He almost laughed at the absurdity, except his throat clenched. "Taken… a liking to me? That's— that's silly, Lady Monica. He's only more comfortable with me because I no longer…"

He faltered, realizing the words spilling out of him, "…no longer like him and—"

Monica's gaze silenced him. A steady, unreadable look that cut deeper than any reprimand. He closed his mouth with a weak swallow.

'What is with that look? It's like she knows something I don't.'

"I only wish for things to change," Monica said at last, her voice gentler now. "Perhaps the Gods have intervened. Perhaps it's simply the Concordian blood, granting this second chance. Whatever the reason… this is another life. And in this one, I don't want them to kill each other. Or destroy each other."

Florian's throat tightened, a strange ache building in his chest.

He forced himself to speak, though his voice trembled. "What… makes you think they'll listen? I'm…" His fingers curled against his lap.

'I'm nothing in this… just a piece being moved around.' He forced the words out. "I'm just a piece in all of this."

Monica smiled faintly, though it carried sadness rather than amusement. Slowly, she rose to her feet, as though preparing to leave.

Her composure had returned, calm and regal, even as Florian blinked in confusion at the sudden shift.

"Prince Florian," she said softly, "for such a beautiful person, you have such low self-esteem."

His eyes widened at her bluntness.

"You have more of a role in this than you realize. The fact that both my son and His Majesty hold you in such high regard says enough. My son is willing to risk everything just to save you. And I have heard whispers that His Majesty tore apart the kingdom itself just to find you."

"That doesn't—!" Florian's voice broke, a protest rising, but Monica cut him off with finality.

"I will end our conversation here. Please, do not tell Hendrix about this." She turned, gliding toward the door with quiet purpose.

But just before leaving, she paused and looked back over her shoulder, her pink eyes shimmering with something unspoken. "And please, do consider my request."

"But you—"

She didn't let him finish.

The door shut behind her, leaving Florian in the silence of the lounge, his thoughts scattered like broken glass.

"…you didn't even really say your request." His whisper fell flat into the emptiness, the sound swallowed by the quiet of the lounge.

Florian sank back against the couch, his shoulders heavy, his fingers curling into the fabric of his lap until his knuckles whitened. His chest ached with a weight he couldn't quite name. Monica had said she didn't want the past to happen again.

But… wasn't it already different?

Hendrix seemed stronger now. Sharper. More cunning than what Monica described.

And Heinz… Heinz seemed calmer, more composed, even after being presented with the will.

'The will…' Florian's brows knit. Why did it even matter? If Heinz could seize the throne without it, then the parchment meant nothing.

Even with its words declaring Hendrix the rightful king, Heinz still ended up ruling.

Wouldn't he have done so regardless?

Nothing lined up. Nothing made sense.

The only thing Florian could piece together from the whirlwind of Monica's story was that she wasn't what he expected.

She wasn't cruel. She wasn't scheming. She wasn't trying to pit him against Heinz or push him toward Hendrix.

'To think she knows about the regression of Hendrix… maybe even Heinz.' He blinked, his chest tightening. 'And instead of hating Heinz and supporting Hendrix, she just wants them to stop fighting.'

That alone… left him unsettled.

Monica may not have been perfect. She had been part of Heinz's suffering, knowingly or not, by choosing to stand beside Henry. But she wasn't the villain in all of this either.

She was just a princess who once loved her kingdom. And now, a mother who loved her son.

And her love for her son ran deeper than pride or loyalty to land. She was willing to give it all up—her title, her country, her legacy—if it meant Hendrix would live without hatred consuming him.

Florian exhaled shakily, dragging his hands down his face. "I want to help her but…" He muttered to the empty room, his voice rough. "…like everyone, she's really overestimating my relationship with Heinz."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify