Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 235: ’Same Shit’

Lancelot exhaled sharply, running a frustrated hand through his brown hair. His fingers gripped at the strands for a second longer than necessary before he let go with a sharp sigh. He was tired. Frustrated.

"So it’s the same shit?" he asked, his tone edged with irritation. He glared at the two knights standing before him, Gareth and Dorian. They exchanged wary glances, clearly sensing his fraying patience.

Dorian hesitated before speaking. "Commander, really... is there something going on?" He tilted his head slightly, watching Lancelot carefully. "Ever since the kidnapping, it seems you’ve been on edge. His Majesty has also been making us monitor theft more closely."

Gareth gave a slow nod. "Is it something serious after all?" he asked, his voice careful. "You even had us look into suspicious staff."

Lancelot clenched his jaw. They weren’t wrong. And the fact that they noticed meant others probably had too.

"There is obviously something going on. I trained you to be smart, didn’t I?!" he snapped, his voice sharp enough to make the two knights flinch. He took a deep breath, reining in his temper.

"You understand that if this were something I could explain, I would. But right now, His Majesty wants to keep it strictly between Lucius and me. Just do as I say and follow my orders. Understood?"

Gareth and Dorian exchanged another glance before nodding. Then, in perfect unison, they bowed their heads and saluted.

"Yes, sir."

Lancelot exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Now go. Tell me right away if you find anything else. We need any leads."

"Yes, sir!" Without another word, the two turned and walked away, their footsteps fading into the distance.

Lancelot waited until they were completely out of sight before groaning under his breath. "Fuck it."

His body felt heavy with exhaustion. He had been investigating nonstop since last night, yet still, nothing. No leads. No explanations. No breakthroughs.

And yet—

Florian had been put in danger under his watch. Twice.

Now, even their only lead—Julius—had died right under his nose.

’There’s still so many things that don’t make sense.’ Lancelot thought grimly as he started walking. ’Julius was a nobody. A random staff member. No ties to any powerful families. No connection to any villages that might have had a grudge against His Majesty.’

It was almost as if he had been chosen at random.

But that wasn’t even the strangest part.

Julius hadn’t even been the one to put the aphrodisiac in Florian’s drink. He had only served it.

So then, why him?

’Anyone could have been framed for it.’ Lancelot frowned. ’Hell, if there was anyone who could be a better target for suspicion, it was Cashew.’

Florian’s personal servant.

Unlike the princesses, Florian only had one servant. A single boy. Young. Naïve.

’Easily manipulated.’

And yet, Florian trusted that boy with his entire life.

Lancelot had always thought that was strange.

’Then again, he’s always been the strange one.’ He let out a small breath.

Thinking about Florian made Lancelot feel... unsettled. No, more than that.

Strange.

It wasn’t just admiration. It wasn’t just interest. It was attraction. Deep, undeniable attraction.

Lancelot’s jaw tightened. His fingers curled into fists before he exhaled sharply and ran a hand down his face. He had always been aware of it, but it had never been a real problem until that night.

Until he saw Florian under the aphrodisiac’s effect.

’I have never thought of doing it with another man...’ The thought crept in, unbidden. ’But I do wonder how he would feel...’

Images of Florian flashed through his mind—the way his pale skin had flushed, the way his green eyes had darkened with overwhelming desire.

’With how much he blushes, I can already tell he’s sensitive.’

A small smirk tugged at Lancelot’s lips.

’How I wish I could continue making him blush. Even calling him "my prince" makes him show me the cutest expressions.’ freeweɓnovel.cѳm

But, of course, there was one major obstacle standing in his way.

Lucius.

That smug bastard.

Not only was Lucius far closer to Florian than anyone else, but it was also obvious that he was actively working to remove Florian from the harem entirely.

And the worst part?

He was succeeding.

Lancelot’s smirk faded, replaced by something darker. His fingers twitched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms.

’That arrogant bastard actually thinks he has a higher chance just because he hovers around His Highness all day.’

His expression darkened.

"As if I would let that happen."

Lancelot exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand through his tousled brown hair as he resumed walking, his strides purposeful yet tense.

The irritation coiled in his chest, stubborn and unyielding, no matter how many times he tried to shake it off. His fingers flexed at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching as his thoughts tangled in frustration.

His mind shifted, something more pressing pushing its way to the forefront.

’My little prince should be returning soon...’

Heinz had taken him to visit the village. Lancelot wasn’t sure of the exact timing, but it shouldn’t be much longer before they came back. He wondered how the prince had reacted upon seeing it—the stark contrast between the palace’s golden splendor and the harsh, bitter reality of the outside world.

A sheltered royal like Florian, raised in luxury and endless comforts, suddenly faced with the crumbling remnants of a kingdom that barely held itself together.

Would he be horrified? Naively sympathetic? Or would he simply avert his gaze, like so many of his kind did when confronted with the ugliness beyond their pristine walls?

Lancelot had seen it all before.

Neglect. Starvation.

The quiet, inevitable deaths of those deemed too unimportant to be saved. Forgotten Waters, the very village Florian had visited, was among the worst. Its people abandoned generations ago, left to rot in the dirt with no aid, no hope. It was almost laughable—the name itself sounded like something from a fairy tale, but there was no magic to save them. Only decay.

Lancelot had no sympathy. Life had never been fair, and those who couldn’t fight for their survival were doomed to be trampled beneath those who could.

’But Florian...’

A sigh left his lips. He wasn’t sure why he cared. Perhaps he was simply curious.

Would Florian be another naive fool who thought he could change something? Would he wear that same determined yet helpless expression, thinking he could undo centuries of ruin with a few kind words?

’It’s none of my concern.’

He shook the thought away and kept walking, his boots striking the stone floor in steady rhythm. His mind remained tangled in thought, but he forced himself to focus on his surroundings. The palace corridors were mostly quiet at this hour, the usual bustle of servants reduced to a hushed murmur in the background.

Then, in the distance, he caught sight of two figures.

Women.

Not just any women—two princesses.

His steps slowed slightly as recognition settled in.

Princess Alexandria. Princess Athena.

The holy one and the shy one. Two of the princesses closest to Florian.

Alexandria spotted him first. Ever energetic, her expression brightened as she raised a hand in greeting.

"Sir Lancelot!" she called, her voice carrying easily through the corridor.

Athena, standing beside her, was more reserved. She didn’t speak, but her large, soft eyes met his briefly before she dipped her head in polite acknowledgment.

Lancelot approached, his posture straightening instinctively. As he reached them, he placed a hand over his chest and bowed.

"Good afternoon, Princess Alexandria. Princess Athena."