Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 291: ’Annoying, Annoying, Annoying’

"Mhm. Did I not mention it before you left my office?" Heinz said smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest, his head tilting to the side in a way that made him look both curious and impossibly smug.

’Bastard, you know you didn’t mention anything about this.’

Florian had to keep smiling—painfully, tightly. His jaw ached with the effort. He was already feeling tense from the earlier conversation with Cashew, but seeing Heinz here, so suddenly and so casually, just made everything worse.

The heavy pit in his stomach twisted tighter.

’He’s planning something. I know he is.’

"No, Your Majesty. I don’t think you did mention it, Your Majesty," Florian said, carefully, though a bite of attitude leaked into his voice despite his best efforts. He couldn’t help it. Not when Heinz had been going out of his way to poke, prod, and generally get under his skin for no reason at all lately.

Well.Maybe not no reason.

’It’s probably still because I insulted him as a king... but isn’t this too much already?’ Florian thought bitterly, his hands tightening slightly at his sides.

All the teasing.All the little smiles of amusement.The way Heinz watched him like a cat with a mouse he wasn’t ready to kill yet.

It was infuriating.

And yet Heinz just smirked at his reply—typical, maddening Heinz—and stepped closer with a lazy, almost bored air.

"We’re going to the throne room together," Heinz said offhandedly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The words knocked Florian back a step.He blinked. "Why?"

"Why not?" Heinz replied easily. "The princesses and Lucius are already there. No time for meaningless questions." He beckoned with a jerk of his chin, already turning to go.

But then he paused, his gaze slipping past Florian’s shoulder.

"You stay there," Heinz said sharply, addressing someone behind him.

’What?’ Florian thought, heart jumping a little. He turned around quickly—and of course, it was Cashew.

The boy stood there stiffly, staring blankly at Heinz with an unreadable expression.

Panic sparked in Florian’s chest. He braced himself, expecting Cashew to throw another quiet, stubborn tantrum—demanding to come along, or clinging to Florian’s side like he sometimes did. Especially after what he’d hinted at just moments ago.

But much to Florian’s shock, Cashew simply bowed low, mechanical in his obedience. "Of course, Your Majesty," he said, his voice flat. He stepped back a few paces. "I will wait here, Your Highness," Cashew added, looking up at Florian—and there it was. A small, almost imperceptible smile.

A smile that sent a shiver down Florian’s spine.

He didn’t know why.He should have felt relieved.

Instead, something twisted painfully in his gut.

As Cashew gently closed the door between them, Florian stood frozen in place, heart thudding painfully against his ribs.

’Isn’t this much more suspicious?’ Florian thought, eyes widening slightly, his instincts screaming that something was off.

Before he could even chase the thought further, he felt a soft nudge against his cheek.

Azure, still perched loyally on his shoulder, had butted his tiny scaly head against him, croaking insistently.

"Azure is telling you to move. Come," Heinz’s voice called out impatiently.

Florian turned around, scowling slightly, only to see that Heinz was already walking away, not sparing him another glance.

Florian bit back the urge to groan aloud and forced his legs to move.

’If it’s not the two male leads, it’s Heinz. If it’s not Heinz, it’s Cashew. Gods, give me a break,’ Florian grumbled internally, trailing after Heinz.

As they walked down the long, ornate corridor, Florian’s gaze drifted reluctantly to Heinz’s back. The royal blue cloak swung slightly with each step he took, the golden embroidery catching the light like liquid fire.

Florian’s mind churned restlessly.

Why had Heinz come to fetch him personally?Why go to the throne room together?What was he planning for the princesses’ task this time?

And more importantly—how was he planning to drag Florian into it again?

Florian’s stomach churned as he listed possible scenarios in his head, each one worse than the last.

The most likely one? Heinz would force him to decide the next trial for the princesses on the spot—probably something brutal or political, probably something involving the villages. Something designed to put Florian in another impossible position.

Florian had already spent hours preparing for it, just in case.

He refused to be outmaneuvered by Heinz again.

Heinz was getting far too comfortable using Florian for his own amusement, treating him like a personal pawn in whatever game he was playing.

And sure—Florian needed Heinz. Needed to stay in his good graces if he ever wanted a chance to go back to his real world.

But still.

’Annoying,’ Florian thought grimly, glaring half-heartedly at Heinz’s back. ’He’s even doing this despite knowing about the rumors going around about him and me.’

’Heinz really is such a confusing person sometimes.’ One moment he was smug and dismissive, the next he was dragging Florian personally to important things without even a word of warning, leaving him to scramble in his wake like some hapless servant.

’But... I have to hand it to him. He’s calculating. Always five steps ahead.’

It was maddening. Exhausting. And no matter how hard Florian tried to predict him, Heinz always managed to stay just out of reach—untouchable, unreadable, like smoke slipping through his fingers.

Still, Florian couldn’t help but sigh internally. His stomach twisted with the familiar dread curling low in his gut. He just prayed—prayed—the princesses wouldn’t make a spectacle of this.

Especially Alexandria.

’Gods, Alexandria is going to say something again, isn’t she?’

It had become a pattern lately: every time their paths crossed, Alexandria would greet him with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her teasing remarks about the rumors between him and Heinz had become less playful and more brittle—delicate things wrapped in laughter that sounded a little too forced.

’She’s getting sadder by the day,’ Florian thought grimly, guilt gnawing at his chest. He had tried—tried to hint, to suggest, to beg Heinz to at least acknowledge them, to give the princesses a sliver of hope.

But Heinz would always brush it off coldly, like flicking dust from his sleeve.

’I don’t get it,’ Florian mused, frustration rising like bile. ’He has Lucius. He has Lancelot. He has Delilah, even me to handle everything. It’s not like he’s doing real ruling himself. Those neglected villages are proof enough.’

The thought made him grind his teeth. Florian swallowed his irritation, smoothing his expression just as Heinz’s voice cut through the heavy silence.

"I can feel you staring at me, Florian," Heinz said, tone light and careless, as if they were merely strolling through a garden and not moments away from stepping into a nest of politics and rumor.

Florian jolted, stiffening instinctively as heat prickled up his neck.

"Gold for your thoughts?" Heinz added, tilting his head just slightly, enough for his long black hair to sway like a silken veil under the torchlight.

Even Azure twisted around on Florian’s shoulder, bright golden eyes gleaming with curiosity as he let out a soft, inquisitive croak.

"Kraaa."

Florian scrambled to recover, shaking his head quickly. "It’s nothing, Your Majesty. I was just lost in thought. I wasn’t necessarily staring," he said stiffly, the words falling from his mouth too fast, too rehearsed.

Heinz hummed—a low, indulgent sound that curled around Florian like a trap. "Really now?" he drawled. "And here I thought you were curious as to what’s going to happen inside the throne room... and why I came to you personally."

’Of course I’m curious, you bastard,’ Florian grumbled inwardly, but he kept his expression carefully neutral, refusing to rise to the bait.

"I trust Your Majesty’s decision," he said instead, the words polished smooth from too much practice. "I’m sure you’re doing this for a reason."

For a brief moment, Heinz’s lips curved into something almost like a smile—sharp and amused, with a glint of mischief flickering behind those dark crimson eyes.

"Indeed, there is," Heinz said simply, as if that explained anything, before turning his attention back to the towering obsidian doors ahead.

Florian bit back a groan, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration.

’I knew it,’ he thought bitterly. ’He’s planning something again. Just perfect. As if the Sovereign Summit isn’t already enough to kill me.’

The rest of the walk was heavy with unspoken tension, broken only by the occasional excited chirps from Azure and the muted whispers of passing servants. Florian caught snippets here and there—gossip that prickled under his skin like nettles.

’Gods, it’s like we’re parading around gossip bait on purpose,’ he thought with a grimace, lowering his gaze and pretending not to hear.

Their footsteps echoed in the grand hallway, each one hammering Florian’s nerves tighter and tighter until they finally—finally—reached the massive obsidian doors.

Two knights stood guard at either side, clad in gleaming black armor, faces hidden behind polished helms. They looked like statues—cold and unmoving.

As Florian and Heinz approached, one of the knights stepped forward, bowing low.

"Your Majesty, Your Highness," the knight intoned formally, voice devoid of emotion, "the princesses, Lord Lucius, and Lady Delilah await inside."

Florian blinked, surprise jolting through him.

’Even Delilah? What the hell is going on?’

Before he could piece anything together, Heinz spoke smoothly, cutting through the air like a blade.

"Good," he said with finality.

Then, his gaze slid back to Florian—heavy, deliberate.

Florian’s stomach twisted into knots.

’Hold on... even Delilah is here? What is—’

"Are you ready?" Heinz asked, voice deceptively calm, almost gentle.

Florian’s heart stuttered painfully against his ribs, instinct screaming that whatever waited behind those doors was going to be anything but ordinary.

"Ready? Ready for wha—"

But Heinz didn’t give him the luxury of finishing.

He turned back to the knights, voice ringing out like a command forged from iron.

"Open the door."