Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 273: ’A Sting’

Florian’s face paled in an instant, blood draining so fast it felt like ice pooling beneath his skin.

’Shit. That was so stupid.’

He clenched his jaw, biting down on the urge to grimace as Alexandria’s head tilted—just a fraction, just enough. Her smile remained, soft and serene, but her eyes... they had shifted. Too sharp now. Too clear. A predator who had caught the scent of something off.

’Idiot. Idiot. I just wanted to end the conversation, grab Azure, and get the hell out of here. Now I’ve practically handed her a reason to start digging.’

Sure enough, she stepped forward.

Slow. Measured. Deliberate.

Her voice was calm. Sweet, even. The kind of gentle curiosity that always came before a blade.

"You were with Drizelous?" she repeated, tone featherlight. "Forgive me, I didn’t realize you two were acquainted."

’I’m not. That’s the problem.’

The smile on her lips hadn’t moved, but it no longer felt polite. It felt practiced. A mask stretched too tight over something watchful. Dangerous. Like standing before a wolf draped in silk.

Her hands folded neatly in front of her dress, fingers laced just a little too precisely. "May I ask... why? What for?"

Florian’s spine went rigid.

He was exhausted. His pulse still hadn’t settled from earlier. But he forced himself to breathe, forced his muscles not to lock up as he met her eyes. Calm. Controlled. Like this wasn’t a trap he’d just stepped into.

"I had to get fitted," he said, voice even.

Her brows lifted.

’Here we go.’

"Fitted? By Drizelous?" she echoed, a rare crack of surprise slipping into her tone. "But he only makes custom pieces for His Majesty. He doesn’t even accept commissions."

Her confusion was real. But something lurked beneath it. Something colder. Heavier. A quiet, poisonous flare of jealousy.

Florian felt it, like a shift in the room’s air.

He should lie. Make something up—something vague and harmless.

But—

’No. The truth is actually better than any lie. If I mess this up, she might think there’s something personal between me and Heinz. I need to steer this before she spirals.’

So he straightened his shoulders and nodded with quiet conviction.

"Yes. I’m not allowed to say much right now," he said carefully, keeping his voice low, steady. "It’s confidential. But I’ve been chosen to represent something important. Something that involves the Crown."

Alexandria’s eyes widened slightly, the faintest parting of her lips betraying surprise she couldn’t quite mask.

Florian didn’t give her time to speak.

"I don’t know the full details yet, but I assume the outfit is to ensure I meet the expectations of someone standing beside the king. Presentation matters." He glanced off to the side, just briefly. "At least... I think that’s why. I haven’t had the chance to ask His Majesty directly."

’Still don’t know why he made me go to Drizelous if it’s such a big deal... but whatever this is, it’s important to him. That’s all that matters right now.’

Alexandria was quiet.

Too quiet.

Then—softly—she nodded.

"Oh. I see..." she murmured, the words drifting like smoke. Something in her expression loosened. Not entirely, but enough. The tension around her eyes faded. Her stance softened.

’It worked.’

She folded her arms slowly across her chest, fingers brushing the edge of her sleeves, like she was bracing herself from a sudden chill. "That must be the project His Majesty mentioned during council," she added, more to herself than him. "He said something was in motion... but he didn’t name what."

Florian managed not to let out the breath he’d been holding.

’Okay. She bought it. She’s curious, yeah—but she’s not suspicious anymore.’

Now all that was left—

His gaze drifted toward the jar.

Azure had gone still. The small dragon sat coiled, no longer thrashing, but clearly still fuming. Smoke curled lazily from his nostrils, irritation radiating from his tiny frame. He looked... done. Not calm, just tired of being trapped.

"I really should get going," Florian said, gesturing gently toward the jar. "I need to return Azure to His Majesty."

Alexandria flinched, visibly startled as his voice broke through whatever thoughts had dragged her away. Her gaze had drifted somewhere distant, somewhere she wasn’t ready to speak about—but now, with a quick blink, she pulled herself back into the present.

"Ah—yes, of course," she said, her tone snapping back into poise. The polished mask slid back over her features, smooth and pleasant.

But then, she hesitated.

Her fingers lingered on the jar.

"...But be careful," she said more quietly, her voice dipping into something hesitant. "He’s been... aggressive. He attacked one of the maids earlier. Nearly singed her skirt."

’Attacked a maid?’

Florian blinked, something sharp tugging at his chest. Not fear, but confusion—like a jolt of static right under the ribs.

’That’s not like him at all...’

Still, he took a step forward, slow and deliberate, hands extended with open palms—calm, gentle, assured.

"It’s alright," he said, tone warm beneath its composure. "He won’t hurt me."

There was no arrogance in his voice. No doubt either. Just quiet certainty, like someone reaching out to an old friend instead of a volatile beast.

Alexandria stared at him, lips slightly parted, her fingers hesitating at the jar’s seal. For a heartbeat, she looked like she might say something more—but then her gaze dropped, and with a soft, reluctant sigh, she loosened the lid.

The moment the seal gave way, everything snapped.

A furious screech tore through the air as Azure burst out in a blaze of blue-gold light, the jar slipping from Alexandria’s hands before she could react. It hit the floor with a crystalline shatter, shards scattering like ice.

She gasped, instinctively reaching forward. "Prince Florian!"

But he didn’t flinch.

Azure blazed through the air, a furious streak of crackling magic—and before she could even process the movement, the tiny dragon collided straight into Florian’s chest.

Not claws first.

Head first.

Like a child slamming into a parent after a long, terrifying day.

Florian staggered a little from the impact, but only because the dragon immediately curled around him—clinging. His tiny claws gripped the fabric of Florian’s collar, wings folding tight against his body as he tucked himself neatly into the crook of Florian’s neck. A low, vibrating purr began to rise from his chest, soft and strange—like the hum of something alive and mechanical.

"Wha—?"

Alexandria’s voice cracked in disbelief.

She stood frozen as Azure nestled closer, rubbing his snout against Florian’s skin like he’d found the only safe place left in the world.

Florian couldn’t help it. The warmth, the softness—it tickled. He let out a quiet, breathless laugh, arms rising instinctively to cradle the little creature against him.

"I was so worried about you," he whispered, voice trembling with soft relief.

Azure let out a quiet croak in response, a muffled, low sound that almost sounded... sheepish.

’He’s really like a puppy.’

A smile pulled at his lips, something small but real flickering through the fatigue in his face.

Across from him, Alexandria was staring.

Openly.

Like she was seeing something she couldn’t quite understand. Like the rules of the world had shifted and no one had warned her.

"I didn’t think..." she started, slow, dazed. "I didn’t think you had such a... kind relationship with His Majesty’s dragon."

But the second her voice broke the moment—

Azure froze.

The purring stopped.

His head lifted, slow and sharp, eyes narrowing to slits as he turned toward her.

And then—low and dangerous—a growl rumbled from his throat. Smoke began to coil once more from between his teeth, thin wisps curling in warning.

Florian felt the shift instantly. Azure’s tiny body tensed against his chest, muscles coiling, tail tightening like a whip ready to snap.

Alexandria flinched, a step of instinctive retreat.

And for just a second—barely a breath—something flickered behind her eyes. A crack in the polished mask. Not anger.

Not fear.

Surprise.

Then confusion.

And finally—something quieter. A flicker of hurt.

So quick it might’ve been imagined.

But Florian saw it.

"Lady Alexandria—"

"What is going on here?"

’Huh? That voice.’