Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 302: ’Bumping Into Someone Unexpected.’

"Do you want me to get some snacks, Your Highness?" Cashew asked gently, glancing up at Florian with worry shining in his purple eyes.

Florian forced a smile. He was still upset—he knew it, Cashew knew it—but he didn’t want to let it show. "No, it’s fine. I think I just want to nap again once I get back to my room."

They were already walking the familiar halls back to his chambers. The palace was quiet at this hour, and every step echoed softly on the marble floors.

Florian tried his best not to think about what had happened. About him.

It was lucky—no, blessed—that Cashew had found him when he did. He didn’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if he hadn’t.

That jerk. I really can’t believe him, Florian thought, his brow tightening as he let out a long breath. And a day before the summit too. Fuck. Whatever... he’s not worth it.

He clenched his jaw slightly. He wasn’t going to talk to Lucius again. Ever. Even Lancelot, with all his infamous flirtatiousness, never pushed past Florian’s boundaries like Lucius just had.

Deep inside, Florian knew that for all Lancelot’s teasing, the man understood the line he wasn’t supposed to cross. He respected that.

Really, whatever, Florian scowled inwardly. I keep telling myself I won’t dwell on it, and yet here I am—still stewing.

He wanted to smack his own forehead, but instead, he just quickened his pace a little.

I just want to cuddle with Azure and sleep. I’m sure he already misses me...

Of course, thanks to Heinz’s oh-so-grand announcement, everyone in the palace now knew that Azure, the King’s prized blue dragon, resided in Florian’s room. News had spread like wildfire. And as expected, so had the rumors.

People were already calling him the King’s favorite. Just another reason to avoid bringing Azure out for a walk—he didn’t want more eyes on him than necessary.

He sighed again.

"You’re really not okay, are you, Your Highness?" Cashew’s voice came again, soft and concerned. "You keep sighing..."

Oh.

"I’m fine, Cashew. Don’t worry," Florian replied, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s hair in reassurance. "Just really nervous about tomorrow."

"Ah... the summit," Cashew murmured.

"Yes. Though I’m not presenting anything, I’ll be helping His Majesty greet the dukes and welcome them. First impressions and all that," Florian explained, placing a hand against his chest. His heart was beating fast, almost loud enough to hear.

It was Heinz’s idea. Of course it was. Having Florian stand beside him to greet the dukes like some sort of consort. It felt... strange. Traditionally, that role was meant for the Queen—or, at the very least, one of the royal princesses.

But then again, Florian had done his reading. And as it turns out, Heinz had broken nearly every tradition surrounding the Sovereign Summit.

No wonder the dukes seemed so irritated lately.

Not only that... he still hasn’t responded to their request to drink with him, Florian thought grimly. There were too many things piling up in his mind.

And just when he thought nothing else could possibly add to the chaos—

"Oh? Prince Florian!"

A voice called out—light, feminine.

Florian turned, already forming a polite smile. "Lady Scar—"

But the smile faltered the moment he saw who stood beside Scarlett.

Athena.

Shy, quiet Athena.

Scarlett and Athena.

Together.

Florian blinked, surprised. The two girls stood there a little awkwardly, both of their faces slowly turning pink as they glanced at each other and then quickly looked away.

"P-Prince Florian... how are you? It’s a surprise to see you," Athena said, fumbling with her fingers. "Princess Scarlett and I were just... taking a walk. Also, hi, Cashew."

Cashew bowed politely. "Hello, Princess Athena. Princess Scarlett."

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, arms crossed casually. "What about you? It’s rare to see you just walking around like this."

"Oh, I just checked on the guest wing," Florian replied, laughing a bit awkwardly. "Making sure everything’s accounted for tomorrow."

Scarlett tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Isn’t that Lord Lucius’s job?"

Florian’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. "It is. I just... wanted to check."

He shifted quickly, hoping to steer the topic away. "How about you two? It’s rare to see you together. Usually, you’re with Lady Camilla, Scarlett. And Princess Athena... you’re usually with Lady Alexandria."

And there it was again—that strange, bashful silence. Scarlett and Athena looked at each other, then away. Both blushing. Both clearly flustered.

Florian’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Hold on...

He glanced between them, something beginning to click in his mind. They were taking a suspiciously long time to answer.

Do they... are they...? Is something going on between them?

It wasn’t impossible.

They looked so red in the face.

And now that he thought about it—Scarlett had been oddly insistent about not wanting to attend the summit, and she always gave Athena a particularly hard time... more than the others.

Is this the "I bullied you because I liked you" trope? Oh my God...

Suddenly, Florian’s lips curled into a real smile.

That’s adorable.

And suddenly, I feel so much better now.

Just as he was basking in the idea of a secret palace romance blossoming before him, Athena finally found her voice.

"P-Princess Alexandria has been very busy," she said quietly, still fiddling with her thumbs. "I’ve barely seen her lately."

Scarlett nodded quickly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Same with Camilla. Her tailor’s been making her help design gowns lately."

They weren’t looking at each other anymore. They were trying very hard not to.

’Oh, something’s definitely going on between the two of them.’ Florian thought, watching the subtle looks exchanged between Scarlett and Athena. It didn’t take a genius to notice—the way they fidgeted, the way their gazes kept brushing past each other like they were too shy to hold eye contact, the faint blushes that colored their cheeks every time their hands accidentally touched.

Florian wasn’t blind. He was well-acquainted with both BL and GL tropes at this point—thanks to being stuck in this novel-turned-reality—and this was textbook. The vibes they were giving off were practically screaming "slow-burn schoolgirl romance."

It was cute. Painfully cute.

’They’re giving the same energy as two classmates who got partnered for a project and ended up falling in love after passing each other awkward love notes.’ Florian’s lips twitched. ’I should mind my business, but... damn, it’s adorable.’

He couldn’t help but smile a little, a rare moment of lightness in his otherwise chaotic day. But then he remembered something—Lady Alexandria, Athena’s usual companion, wasn’t here.

"What’s Lady Alexandria been busy with?" Florian asked, trying to sound casual. He tilted his head slightly. "It’s rare for her to be doing a lot. Isn’t she usually just... praying? Or hanging out with you, Athena?"

Athena perked up slightly at the mention, then fiddled with her sleeves. "Oh, um... His Majesty has been summoning her to his office a lot lately."

Florian’s steps slowed.

"...What?"

"Yes," Athena nodded innocently. "Lady Alexandria is the one leading the test we’ll conduct for you. So, she’s been... uh, speaking with His Majesty quite a lot. Almost every day."

Florian felt something cold curl in his chest. Like someone had poured iced water down his spine.

’She’s been... spending time with Heinz?’

Scarlett, who had been suspiciously quiet, let out a small scoff. "Please. It’s obvious she volunteered just to be close to him."

Athena looked up at her, surprised. "W-Well... she really does like His Majesty."

"And she’s making it way too obvious," Scarlett muttered, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "But then again, His Majesty doesn’t seem to be stopping it either."

Florian stood still for a second too long.

The words were simple. Casual. They weren’t meant to stab—but they did. Like a knife sliding in slowly, almost gently, until the pain finally bloomed.

’He’s entertaining it?’

’Heinz is entertaining her...’

’That’s great.’

’That’s... great, right?’

His throat felt dry. His fingers curled slightly into the folds of his robe.

’Then why does it hurt?’

It didn’t make sense. He knew what kind of world he was in. He knew he was just one of the king’s harem members, an ornament for political theater and royal spectacle. Nothing more.

And yet.

And yet.

His chest felt hollow. Like something was slipping out of it, draining quietly and steadily.

He forced a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His lips trembled—just barely—but enough that Scarlett caught it.

"Ah... I see," he said, trying to steady his voice. "She must be working really hard, then."

There was a silence that followed—too heavy to be comfortable.

Scarlett didn’t look convinced. In fact, she wasn’t just looking at him anymore. She was staring. Brows slightly furrowed, her arms still folded over her chest. Like she was trying to figure him out.

"Are you alright?" she asked, voice low and cautious.

"Yes," Florian replied immediately, too quickly, too stiffly. "Why wouldn’t I be?"

But his heart was aching.

A deep, dull kind of ache that pulsed like a bruise pressed too hard.

’Why the fuck is my heart aching?’

Scarlett opened her mouth to say something else—maybe to question his expression, maybe to press further—but Florian was already spiraling.

He didn’t want to hear what she saw on his face.

His thoughts were racing, overlapping each other, tripping over doubt and indignation and confusion.

Was it his questions that caused this?

No—yes?No.

’No. It definitely wasn’t.’

’Then what is it?’

His mind was a storm, and in that storm, something kept whispering to him. Over and over again.

’Ask them.’

Ask them what?

What he already didn’t want to know?

’Ask them.’

Cashew tugged gently at his sleeve, his soft voice grounding Florian for a brief second.

"Your Highness?" the boy said, concern etched clearly into his wide, violet eyes. "You’re spacing out..."

Florian turned to reassure him—he was ready to lie, to say "I’m fine," to pretend—but the words never made it past his throat.

Instead, something else slipped out. Something heavier.

"So," he asked, the question cutting through the air like a blade, "how many times this week has His Majesty summoned Lady Alexandria?"