Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 262: ’On Purpose’

"Well..." Florian hesitated but took a deep breath. "Scarlett approached me. She told me how you... interrogated her before the ball. I told you this. However, I found out that you asked her some odd questions, and one of those was, well, if she... wanted to kill you."

Heinz continued to stare at him, which Florian took as a sign to continue. "It... got me thinking. You told me to figure out why Scarlett won instead of the rest, and perhaps it’s because she acted the most suspicious. She ran away when she thought she killed you and kept apologizing."

"You’ve been keeping an eye on the princesses a lot. You have... been ignoring them. You died because of poison, and there were probably only a few people who could go near you at the time... and most of those were the princesses you would summon. So, I had a theory that maybe you suspected that a princess killed you."

Florian finished, his words hanging in the air between them. He took slow, measured breaths, waiting for Heinz to respond. The silence stretched, thick and unyielding, but Florian could tell Heinz was thinking. Calculating.

But his face remained infuriatingly unreadable.

Florian tried to gauge his reaction, searching for any flicker of confirmation or denial in his expression. But Heinz gave nothing away. And that unsettled him more than an outright answer.

Finally, Heinz opened his mouth to speak. "Did I tell you the full story about how my mother accidentally poisoned me?"

"Yes?" Florian answered, unsure. As far as he knew, Heinz had told the whole story.

’What is the relevance of this though?’

"Well, I did not tell the whole truth," Heinz admitted, a half-smile ghosting over his lips.

"O...kay?" Florian said hesitantly, unsure where this was leading. Heinz leaned back in his chair, his posture deceptively relaxed, yet his gaze remained sharp and dissecting.

"My mother knew how to prepare the tea," Heinz continued, watching Florian closely. "It was impossible for her not to. She was the reason I liked that tea. She was an expert. Tea brewing was her favorite hobby."

’Wait...’

Florian’s breath hitched. A cold sensation settled in his stomach. "B-But that would mean..."

Heinz nodded, his expression unreadable as he nonchalantly said, "She tried to kill me on purpose, but regretted it after."

Florian felt like the floor had dropped beneath him. He stared at Heinz, waiting for some kind of elaboration, an explanation, anything.

’How could she do that?’

"But... I don’t understand, Your Majesty. Why would she do that?" Florian asked, voice quieter than before. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Heinz had always spoken of his mother with reverence, as if she were untouchable, a goddess in his eyes. And yet, here he was, stating so plainly that she had tried to end his life. As if it were a minor inconvenience rather than a horrifying betrayal.

Heinz merely smiled, but it was empty. "The reason is a story for another time. I just want you to understand why I would ask such a thing to Scarlett. And to answer your question..." He paused, tilting his head slightly, as if weighing his words. "You’re right. I chose her because she was suspicious."

"Does—"

"Suspicious in the sense that she might be like my mother. I am looking for a queen like my mother, but I am not looking for anyone like my mother. I cannot love anyone." Heinz’s voice was calm, but there was something absolute in his tone, something irrevocable. "I am looking for a wife to mother my heir, but not a lover."

It was a chilling kind of honesty. One that left no room for argument.

’He just wants a professional marriage.’

Well, that made sense.

Even in the novel, Heinz had never planned on taking a queen, so it stood to reason that he didn’t want a lover.

Now that Florian thought about it, it was silly to suspect that a princess had been the one who killed Heinz.

First of all, none of the princesses hated Heinz enough to want him dead. Lucius would’ve seen their hatred if they did.

"Right... Right, that does make sense," Florian murmured, nodding as he tried to shake off the lingering unease in his chest. But despite everything, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Heinz.

The full extent of Heinz’s past—especially his mother—had never been detailed in the novel. Kaz had never gone into depth about Heinz’s personal history. The focus had always been on his rise to power, how he had killed his father and claimed the throne.

But maybe that was because the original Florian had been the narrator. And he had never been privy to this side of Heinz.

The only time Heinz had ever looked at him was the moment before his beheading.

Florian sat with the weight of Heinz’s words pressing uncomfortably against his chest.

’His own mother... tried to kill him. On purpose.’

It wasn’t just tragic—it was fucked up.

He kept his expression schooled, but the thought wouldn’t leave his head. How did someone even begin to process something like that? How could Heinz talk about it so casually, like it was nothing more than an unfortunate inconvenience?

Florian wasn’t sure what to say. He had prepared himself for a complicated answer, something politically motivated or tangled in court intrigue—but not this. Not something so personal, so cruel. He thought about Heinz’s composed demeanor, the way he spoke as if he were merely reciting facts rather than recounting an act of betrayal. Was he just that unaffected, or had he buried it so deeply that even he no longer cared?

’How many times has he had to tell this story?’ Florian wondered, stomach twisting.

Heinz watched him in silence, crimson eyes unreadable as always. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "Did you get the answer you needed?"

Florian swallowed, quickly pushing his thoughts aside. "Yes." He hesitated before adding, "And... I apologize."

At that, Heinz let out a soft snicker, low and amused. "Apologize? For what? Hardly anything to get upset over." He waved a hand dismissively, as if the topic of his mother’s attempted murder was of no real importance. "We should move on. We have more pressing matters to discuss."

The abrupt shift left Florian momentarily disoriented. He was still reeling, still trying to understand, but Heinz had already discarded the subject like an old, useless document. It was unnerving, the way he could so effortlessly brush it aside.

But then again, perhaps this was simply how he survived.

Florian nodded stiffly, forcing himself to focus.

"Lucius gave me the plan you thought of for the villages," Heinz continued, fingers tapping idly against the polished surface of his desk. "It was impressive."

Florian blinked. "You think so?"

Heinz hummed. "Enough to make it worth pursuing. However, I hope you’re aware that this is going to require a great deal of convincing."

Florian nodded absentmindedly. "Right, of course—"

Then his brain caught up to Heinz’s words.

His body went rigid.

"Wait," he said slowly. "When I convince the dukes?"

Heinz met his gaze evenly. "Naturally."

Florian’s stomach twisted. "You mean to tell me I’m going to be the one speaking to the dukes?"

Heinz leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening ever so slightly. "Since it was your plan, you will be the one representing it during the summit."

Florian’s face dropped.

"I... was not aware of that."

Heinz’s smirk deepened.

"Well," he said smoothly, "you’re aware of it now."

’What the fuck?’