Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 216: ’Unique Meat’

Florian stiffened.

’Food?’

His stomach churned. The village was suffering—the curse had withered their crops, left their livestock starving. Hunger clung to the people like a second skin, their cheeks hollow, their eyes dull with exhaustion. Food was scarce. Too scarce to be offering it so freely.

’Why?’

Why would they do that?

Yet Augustus only smiled, his lined face unreadable. He turned toward the door, nodding slightly. "Just in time. Come in."

The wooden door creaked open, the sound dragging against the silence. Florian forced himself to remain composed, his posture steady, his expression neutral. But beneath the surface, unease curled tight in his chest, like fingers gripping his ribs.

Something wasn’t right.

A man entered—Bill, if he remembered correctly. His thick arms carried a tray laden with food. And not just any food—meat.

The rich, mouthwatering scent of seared flesh filled the room, mingling with the lingering scent of old wood and damp air. The cuts were thick, glistening under the dim light, juices pooling on the plate. A meal far too luxurious for a dying village.

Florian’s throat felt dry.

’Where did they even get this?’

The scrape of ceramic against wood echoed as Bill set the tray down on the coffee table. He grinned, wiping his hands on his apron. "Chief Augustus asked us to prepare some of the meat we have as a gift for you. It may not be like the fancy shmancy meals ya have in the palace, but this meat is certainly unique."

Florian’s fingers twitched slightly.

’Unique?’

He knew little about the meats of this world. Some were similar to what he had in his past life, others completely foreign. But even so, something about the way Bill said it—like an inside joke only they were privy to—made him uneasy.

Heinz was the one to react first.

"Unique meat?" His arms crossed over his broad chest, his sharp golden eyes flickering with suspicion.

A low, almost imperceptible growl vibrated against Florian’s shoulder. Hidden beneath his cloak, Azure stirred, the small dragon lizard shifting uneasily, sensing something Florian couldn’t.

Florian exhaled slowly, gaze falling to the food.

’It smells... good.’

He hated to admit it. The seared crust, the tender texture—it looked delicious. He hadn’t expected a meal like this in a village barely scraping by. It didn’t add up.

Leila, her voice still thick with lingering grief, broke the silence.

"This is my favorite," she murmured, her red-rimmed eyes darting to Florian. "We don’t get to eat it often. I—I’m sorry, I still don’t know what to say to you or how to react. You see... Levi and I were close. I was devastated when he suddenly left without a word."

Florian’s fingers curled slightly against his knee.

’Her words... they’ve changed.’

Before, she had barely spoken of Levi. Now, her words fell neatly into the story Augustus had told them earlier.

Still, he forced a small smile. "We really are very sorry for your loss, and we’ll do our best to help you."

It wasn’t a lie.

But it wasn’t entirely the truth either.

"Please, eat." Augustus gestured toward the food, his tone warm, almost expectant.

Florian reached out, drawn by the scent, by the way the juices shimmered under the light—

A hand clenched his cloak.

Heinz.

The firm grip yanked Florian out of his thoughts, snapping him back into the present. He glanced at Heinz, who didn’t say a word, but the warning in his golden gaze was clear.

Florian blinked, his own fingers hesitating just above the plate.

He didn’t know why he wanted to eat so badly.

The village was suffering. He had seen it with his own eyes—the sunken faces, the brittle limbs, the desperation lining every movement. And yet, they had offered this. Meat.

It didn’t make sense.

"You didn’t answer my question," Heinz said, voice calm but firm. "What kind of meat is this?"

Kane scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Look at that, the palace men are suspicious over food. If you don’t want to eat, don’t."

Bill clapped a hand on Kane’s shoulder, letting out a hearty laugh. "Now, now, Kane, don’t be so sensitive."

Augustus, however, remained composed. "Our visitors have every right to be cautious," he said, his expression unreadable as he met Heinz’s gaze. "Truthfully, we do not know what kind of meat it is. We have a friendly butcher who sometimes provides us with cuts he usually sells to nobles. He claims this one is from a rare but thriving beast near our village... Dreadboar."

Florian frowned.

’Dreadboar?’

He had never heard of such a creature.

Heinz’s brows furrowed. "Dreadboars do roam cursed lands, but I have not seen one."

Bill chuckled, shaking his head. "That’s ’cause we let him take ’em. In exchange, he gives us food from time to time. It’s the little help we get to survive."

A quiet hum settled in the air.

Florian hated to admit it—

But they had a point.

The cursed lands were dangerous, filled with beasts unknown to common folk. If a butcher had the skill to hunt and trade such creatures, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

Still—

"Are you gonna eat or not?" Kane snapped, his irritation bubbling over. "Or do you palace snobs have more questions?"

"Kane." Augustus’ voice carried a weight of quiet authority. "If you cannot behave, you may leave. Bill can stay."

Kane exhaled sharply, looking away with a muttered curse under his breath.

Leila shifted, her gaze pleading. "Please... help yourselves..."

A thick silence settled over them.

Florian and Heinz exchanged a glance.

Then, at last, Heinz gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. A sign.

Florian took it as permission.

"We’ll help ourselves, then," he said, voice steady.

He reached for the plate.

Azure’s low growl vibrated against his skin, a quiet, uneasy sound.

And yet—despite the warning coiling in the pit of his stomach—

He picked up the fork.

Heinz didn’t move.

He just stood there, golden eyes locked onto Florian with unwavering focus.

’He’s... just watching me.’

Florian hesitated, his fingers tightening around the fork, the metal cool and solid against his palm. He wasn’t sure what he had expected—maybe Heinz eating first, maybe a reassuring glance, but not this. Not silent, unreadable scrutiny.

A strange weight settled in his chest, a creeping unease that had nothing to do with the meat in front of him. Heinz wasn’t usually subtle about his suspicions. If he had reason to believe the food was dangerous, he would have stopped Florian outright.

Still, Heinz wasn’t the type to let him get poisoned.

’Again, at least.’

Florian exhaled slowly, forcing himself to ignore the way the villagers’ eyes bore into him, the room thick with anticipation. It was as if the entire house had gone still, breath held in collective suspense. He wasn’t sure why, but something about it felt unnatural.

’This is ridiculous.’

He picked up a piece of meat with his fork, watching as the juices pooled onto the plate. Under the dim candlelight, the sheen of the seared crust gleamed invitingly. The scent was rich, savory—his stomach tightened in response, a cruel reminder that he hadn’t eaten properly in hours.

Slowly, deliberately, he brought the meat to his lips.

The first thing that hit him was the taste.

Florian’s eyes widened slightly.

’It’s... good.’

Shockingly good.

The meat was tender, almost buttery in texture, the flavor deep and full, nothing like the dry rations or the barely seasoned meals he had expected from a village struggling under a curse. He nearly hummed in satisfaction, the warmth spreading through his mouth, coating his tongue in something dangerously pleasant.

But then—

Something twisted.

A deep, gut-wrenching nausea clawed up his throat, violent and sudden.

His stomach lurched, his body recoiling before he could even register what was happening.

He felt sick.

Not pain. Not poison. Just sick.

His grip on the fork slackened, a sharp gasp catching in his throat. The taste that had been delicious just seconds ago now sat like lead in his mouth, thick and suffocating. His vision blurred at the edges, dizziness washing over him in sickening waves.

’What...? Why do I feel like this?’

Heinz moved before Florian could even think to react.

A firm grip caught his arm, steady and unyielding. The world tilted sharply as he was yanked away from the table, a sharp rush of air filling his lungs. The sudden motion sent another wave of nausea rolling through him, and he barely registered the startled voices rising around him.

"S-Sir Aden—?" Leila’s voice, strained with worry.

"The hell’s wrong with him?" Kane, irritation laced with something sharper.

The chief muttered something low, unreadable, while Bill only let out a slow, thoughtful hum.

Florian couldn’t process any of it.

His vision swam, sweat beading cold against his skin. A choked noise built in his throat, his body screaming for relief, but before he could even think about throwing up—

Heinz’s grip tightened.

And then—

The air changed.

Cool night wind hit his face, crisp and sharp compared to the suffocating heat inside the house. The distant sounds of the village night reached his ears—low murmurs, the rustling of dry leaves, the faint crackling of torches in the distance. The contrast was stark, shocking against the lingering nausea twisting in his gut.

Heinz had carried him outside.

’I wanna fucking throw up!’

Florian inhaled sharply, sucking in gulps of fresh air, his breath ragged. His entire body trembled from the sheer force of the nausea, but now, away from the table, away from the food—

The sickness was fading.

His head lolled slightly, gaze flickering up to Heinz.

Heinz, who had said nothing.

Heinz, who had reacted the moment something felt off.

Heinz, who was still watching him with that same sharp, unreadable intensity.

Florian swallowed.

’He knew something was wrong.’

His throat was dry, his mind spinning with too many questions.

But right now—he just needed to breathe.