Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 286: ’In Deep Thought’

"Achoo!"

Florian sneezed violently as he and Heinz approached the grand doors of the royal office, the sound echoing down the empty marble corridor like a startled bird.

’Fuck. Is someone talking about me?’ he thought, wrinkling his nose and giving it a light pinch. His brows knit together in mild irritation, more at the sudden embarrassment than the sneeze itself.

Heinz turned his head slightly, giving him a sidelong glance. "Something wrong?"

Florian straightened quickly, hands behind his back like a schoolboy caught whispering during a lecture. "No, no. Everything’s fine, Your Majesty."

Heinz’s crimson eyes lingered on him for a moment, sharp and unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned and pushed open the towering double doors.

Florian braced himself as they entered, expecting to find the usual suspects—Lancelot, sprawled arrogantly in a chair with a smug grin, and Lucius, ever-composed and watching Florian too closely for his liking.

But the room was empty. No knights, no butlers. Just silence and sunlight streaming through the tall stained glass windows, painting shards of color on the polished stone floor.

’Hm?’ Florian blinked. ’It’s not like them to be late.’

He stepped in after Heinz, letting the heavy door shut behind him with a soft, final click. The sound felt oddly loud in the stillness.

Heinz was already seated behind his desk, arms folded across his chest. His posture was both casual and commanding—like a king indulging a rare moment of patience.

He pushed his long black hair back with one hand, red eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on Florian. It was the kind of look that made people fidget.

Florian did fidget.

He stood awkwardly near the center of the room, unsure whether to approach, bow again, or wait for instruction. The silence between them stretched, not uncomfortable, but charged—like the air before a storm.

’Why does it feel weird today?’ he thought, fingers twitching at his sides. ’He’s stared before, but this... this is different.’

He’d been summoned often lately. More than usual. Heinz had developed a habit of calling on him for everything—updates that could’ve been written down, trivial matters, and once even just to "accompany" him on a walk around the garden.

There had always been whispers in the palace. Florian had learned to ignore them.

But today... today was the first time Florian could feel them. The weight of stares, the hushed giggles of passing maids, the not-so-subtle glances from guards.

As Florian and Heinz walked side by side through the pristine, echoing halls of the palace, the morning sun spilled through the tall windows, casting golden light along the marble floors. Their footsteps were the only sound for a time—steady, purposeful, until it was interrupted by the rustling of fabric.

A group of maids appeared at the far end of the corridor, carrying bundles of fresh linens, their heads bowed in routine deference. But the moment they caught sight of who was approaching, their reactions shifted—eyes widening, feet stumbling slightly. They quickly dipped into curtsies, their movements hurried and oddly nervous.

What truly caught Florian’s attention, though, were their faces. Grins—huge, barely-contained ones, as though they’d just stumbled across a particularly juicy secret.

It wasn’t the kind of expression one made upon seeing the king. Heinz was feared, respected, admired—but rarely greeted with giddy smiles.

Florian raised an eyebrow, curiosity rising.

Then he heard it.

"...It’s His Majesty and Prince Florian."

"From their direction... didn’t they just come from Lord Drizelous’ chambers?"

"Then, I suppose it’s true? King Heinz has developed affection for His Highness, Prince Florian?"

Florian’s blood turned to ice.

His steps faltered for half a second before he quickly corrected himself, heart thundering in his chest.

’Fuck. Did he hear that? I hope he didn’t hear that.’

His green eyes immediately darted toward Heinz. The king was still walking, long strides never missing a beat—but Florian saw it.

The slight tilt of Heinz’s head. The faint, unmistakable glance over his shoulder toward the whispering maids.

Florian nearly tripped.

’Shit. He heard them. I know he did.’

Panic swirled just beneath his skin. If there was one thing Florian feared more than being dragged into noble drama, it was being part of royal scandal.

Gods knew what Heinz would do if he discovered rumors were circulating—romantic rumors—about the two of them. The man was known for being meticulous about his image, ruthless in maintaining the integrity of the crown.

And Florian? He had no desire to be the center of that firestorm.

Still, Heinz said nothing.

He didn’t look at Florian, didn’t slow down. He simply continued walking forward, the picture of silent authority.

Much to Florian’s relief.

’Okay. Maybe he’s ignoring it. Maybe it’s beneath him to react.’

But that fragile sense of peace was quickly shattered.

As they turned a corner, they encountered two knights on patrol. The moment the soldiers spotted Heinz, they stood at attention like bolts of lightning, their heels clicking together.

"Y-Your Majesty!" one exclaimed, voice tense, almost squeaky. The other remained silent, but his stiff posture betrayed his unease.

Heinz gave a lazy flick of his hand, the simple gesture a dismissal, an order to relax. Without breaking stride, he walked past them.

The knights exhaled visibly, tension leaving their bodies—until their eyes landed on Florian.

One of the knights whispered, unable to hide his surprise. "It’s the prince."

The other leaned in, whispering back, voice too loud in the still corridor. "Prince Florian and His Majesty... together? So I guess the rumors are tru—"

He didn’t finish.

The second knight elbowed him hard, a futile attempt to stop the damage. fгeewebnovёl.com

But it was too late.

Heinz stopped.

Just like that—mid-step, he froze. The air around them shifted. The once-neutral corridor suddenly felt too small, too still. The sound of Florian’s footsteps echoed a beat too late, causing him to stop abruptly before he collided into Heinz’s back.

"...Your Majesty?" Florian asked, playing dumb, though the dread curling in his gut betrayed the calm in his voice. ’What is he doing?’

Heinz said nothing.

Instead, he turned.

And walked back toward the two knights, each of his steps unnervingly controlled, like a predator giving his prey time to panic.

The soldiers paled instantly. One of them visibly flinched. Their backs straightened, trembling slightly under the intensity of the king’s presence.

Florian’s heart dropped to his stomach.

Heinz came to a stop just a breath away from the knights.

The taller of the two—the one who hadn’t uttered a single word earlier—acted fast. His hand clamped around the back of his comrade’s neck, forcing him into a deep, humiliating bow. It was the kind of bow that spoke of desperation, of fear curling into his very bones. His grip trembled slightly, but his face remained taut with panic.

"Y-Your Majesty," he said quickly, voice strained and brittle, "I deeply apologize on behalf of my comrade. He spoke out of turn. I swear he meant no disrespect."

The bowed knight was visibly shaking now, his forehead nearly touching the polished floor. "I-I’m sorry, sire! It won’t happen again!"

Florian stood frozen behind Heinz, heart thudding so loud he could barely hear himself think.

’Is he... going to punish them?’

He wouldn’t put it past Heinz. The man was known to be ruthless when his authority was mocked—especially when it came to whispers that dared touch anything personal. The rumors had crossed a line. Florian knew that.

But Heinz didn’t move.

He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t snap. Didn’t reach for a blade or summon guards.

He only tilted his head—slowly, deliberately—his expression unreadable.

Then he smiled.

Just a faint curve of the lips. Not unkind. Not mocking.

But unsettling in its restraint.

Florian felt a chill crawl up his spine.

’Why is he smiling?’

There was no fury on Heinz’s face. No disgust.

Only something calm. Something unreadable. Something worse.

"No need to apologize," Heinz said, his voice smooth—dangerously smooth. "I’m not upset."

Florian blinked.

The knights hesitated.

The bowed knight lifted his head just a little, eyes wide with confusion.

And then Heinz’s gaze shifted.

His red eyes gleamed like polished glass—too bright, too clear. The silence stretched, taut and suffocating.

"In fact..." Heinz clasped his hands loosely behind his back, posture relaxed, but every inch of him radiating quiet menace, "I’m curious."

His eyes locked onto the knight who’d spoken—the unfortunate one with too loose a tongue. The man went rigid, like every part of him had just turned to stone.

"Tell me more," Heinz said, soft as a whisper.

"Florian, you’re staring again."

Heinz’s voice cut through the quiet like a sharp blade, snapping Florian out of his spiraling thoughts.

Florian blinked rapidly, as if caught in the act. His face contorted—part embarrassment, part panic. He quickly averted his gaze, heat rising to his cheeks.

"I—I was not, Your Majesty. I was in deep thought."

Heinz raised a brow, his head tilting slightly, the movement slow and deliberate, almost feline. His crimson eyes watched Florian carefully, as if peering straight through him.

"Hm?" Heinz hummed, his tone far too knowing. "Perhaps, are you thinking about the rumors that were going around?"

Florian’s breath caught in his throat.

’Of course, I am. But I’m only thinking about the fact that now you know about them.’

His mouth opened slightly, the beginning of an excuse dancing on his tongue, but before he could get a word out, Heinz spoke again.

"It did not seem like you were all too surprised about the rumors, though," he said smoothly. "I’m curious why you never told me."

Florian froze.

The words hit like ice water poured down his back.

"What?"