Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 312: ’Elara Skyshroud’

"This is it."

Florian exhaled slowly, straightening his posture. At long last, the final duke had arrived, and with that, they could all finally return to the cool, shaded halls of Diamond Palace—away from the blinding sun and the growing weight of ceremony.

Out of all the carriages that had passed through the palace gates, this one stood apart—sleek, immaculate, and adorned with silver accents that gleamed beneath the light. The sigil of the Skyshroud family, an elegant depiction of a crescent moon cradled in clouds, sat proudly atop the roof like a crown.

It was the most ornate of them all.

Florian’s chest rose with anticipation as he stared at the approaching carriage. He had been looking forward to this meeting—not out of duty, but out of genuine curiosity. This duke was different. Unique.

’Not like the others. Not like the ones who leered or stared too long.’

As the carriage came to a gentle stop in front of them, Florian automatically pulled his expression into a soft, welcoming smile—the kind that was polite without being stiff, warm without being too familiar.

Two butlers, clad in deep navy and silver, descended gracefully from the driver’s perch. With practiced synchrony, they moved to the side and opened the carriage door with a soft click.

This duke was different because...

"Presenting the Duke of Skyshroud, Duke Elara Skyshroud... accompanied by Lord Eleonor Skyshroud!"

She was a woman.

"Oh, this is quite a welcome," came a voice smooth like velvet, laced with a calm, mature confidence.

Duke Elara descended with the poise of someone used to walking into rooms full of men and commanding the air with nothing but her presence. Her gown was an artful blend of elegance and formality—structured like a tailored suit, yet flowing with the grace of nobility. She had light blue hair coiled into a braided crown, and eyes as black and deep as obsidian.

Behind her followed a striking young man—Lord Eleonor—her son, clearly. He looked like a mirrored echo of his mother: same hair, same dark eyes, though his carried a softness that Elara’s did not.

Florian stepped forward, his role clear. Heinz had given him the subtle nod of approval to greet her first.

"Duke Elara, welcome to Diamond Palace," Florian said, bowing slightly with practiced elegance. "We’re honored you could join us. I hope your journey was comfortable."

Elara’s lips curved into a warm smile as she stepped fully onto the cobbled path. "You must be Prince Florian," she said, tone rich with familiarity and charm. "Thank you for such a lovely welcome, and of course..."

She and Eleonor turned toward Heinz, their eyes respectful, their bodies lowering into a dignified bow. "Your Majesty, King Heinz. Thank you for hosting this Summit. Truth be told, I never imagined you would actually host one."

Heinz let out a low chuckle—a sound Florian immediately recognized as false. Not mocking, not cruel. Just... empty.

"Well, better late than never," Heinz replied, his tone even. "It’s good to see you again."

Elara’s gaze softened. "Day by day, you look more and more like your mother."

Florian felt the shift. It was subtle—a twitch in the king’s jaw, the faintest tension in his shoulders. But to someone who spent this much time beside Heinz, it was unmistakable.

Right. Heinz hated the mention of his mother.

’Anastasia...’ Florian remembered the name well. Elara had once been her friend—that was what Heinz had told him, albeit reluctantly. It was the only thing about Elara that made his presence here... complicated.

"Is that right?" Heinz said, a touch of frost creeping into his voice. "I was always told I resembled my predecessor."

’His predecessor... so, his father.’ Florian glanced at him sideways. ’Another ghost Heinz would rather leave buried.’

The air between them grew heavier, and Florian, sensing it, smoothly stepped in again—diverting the tension like a hand brushing dust off silk.

"And this must be your son, Lord Eleonor," he said, turning to the young man. "It’s good to finally meet you."

Eleonor smiled, bowing his head. "It’s good to meet you as well, Prince Florian. It’s not every day one meets a foreign prince. I’d love to hear more about your kingdom—perhaps over tea, if time permits."

"Of course," Florian replied, matching his warm tone.

’So far, so good...’ he thought, shoulders easing just a bit.

"I’m also highly interested in you, Prince Florian," Elara said, her eyes glinting with interest. "If I may be so bold, your reputation precedes you. I would love to know the details—your feats so far have been most impressive. Becoming King Heinz’s representative is no small thing."

The praise wasn’t empty—it felt genuine. Florian’s smile widened slightly, touched by her sincerity.

"I’m equally eager to learn more about you, Duke Elara," he replied. "Especially as someone who comes from a kingdom ruled by women. I’ve heard stories of how you rose to your position... and how you kept it."

This seemed to delight her. Her smile deepened, pride shining in her eyes.

"Then shall we head inside?" she offered, motioning toward the palace steps. "And no need for the bouquet," she added with a chuckle, nodding toward Scarlett and Camilla waiting in the wings with bouquets in hand.

’Poor Scarlett and Camilla... none of the dukes they were assigned to even accepted their bouquets.’

"Yes, of course," Heinz said, his voice more relaxed now that the conversation had shifted. "Since all of the dukes are here, we can finally proceed inside."

Heinz lifted a hand, fingers curling in a simple, elegant gesture that Florian had come to recognize well.

’Time to move.’

With practiced synchronicity, the servants and knights responded. A pair of guards at the palace doors pushed them open with polished precision, and immediately Lancelot strode forward with a squad of knights flanking him. Their armor glinted under the midday sun as they entered first, ensuring the path was clear.

Behind them, the princesses glided forward in neat pairs, whispers and rustling skirts trailing in their wake. Florian caught a glimpse of Camilla glancing briefly at him—perhaps wondering if she should’ve offered the bouquet anyway—before she disappeared into the cool shade of the palace.

Lucius and Delilah followed close behind, walking in step. The head maid whispered something softly to the butler, who gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

Next came Duke Elara and Eleonor, their pace measured, dignified. The two looked around the entrance hall with curiosity, Eleonor’s fingers occasionally brushing the embroidery on the sleeve of his coat as if trying to keep his hands from fidgeting.

Florian walked a short distance behind them, his own steps quiet but steady. He kept his eyes ahead, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

’All the dukes are finally here... the real summit begins now.’

And, of course, last to enter was King Heinz himself. The marble beneath his boots barely echoed—his presence seemed to hush even the architecture.

The hallway led them to the grand waiting chamber—a vast, domed room draped in gold and ivory curtains, with tall stained glass windows casting colored light across the polished floor.

Already inside, several figures waited.

"Finally!" Alaric called out from his lounge near the window, lifting his half-empty champagne flute. He looked thoroughly bored but no less radiant, golden hair gleaming in the filtered light.

The other dukes were scattered around the chamber—Alexandrius leaning near a pillar with his arms crossed, scowl already in place. Cedric stood beside a low table, sipping quietly, his eyes indifferent to the procession. Roland, ever calm, was seated with perfect posture, a glass untouched before him.

As the final guests entered, the knights and servants took their positions along the walls, a disciplined ring of order around the nobility. The princesses joined Delilah and Lucius to the side, exchanging quiet greetings. Lancelot, meanwhile, stood with his knights—not speaking, just watching.

Florian stayed behind Heinz as the king stepped forward, plucking a chalice of deep-crimson wine from the tray of a waiting servant.

With the room silent, he raised the glass.

"We prepared a welcoming feast," Heinz began, voice strong but smooth, "but before that, of course... I have a few words to say."

Florian scanned the room from behind him. Alaric raised an eyebrow, Alexandrius narrowed his eyes. Cedric barely reacted, only blinking. Roland and Elara, however, both turned to face Heinz fully, giving him their undivided attention.

’I shouldn’t be surprised...’ Florian thought. ’They did seem the most composed.’

Heinz continued, "Thank you all for coming. I understand that many of you had reasons not to. That there is... tension between the crown and the duchies."

Alexandrius snorted under his breath. "Tension? You ignored all of us."

’That asshole.’

Lancelot shot his father a scathing glare, but Heinz didn’t flinch—he simply continued as if nothing had been said.

"That ends today," he said. "This summit is not just for diplomacy—it’s an acknowledgment. Of your power, your loyalty, your importance to this kingdom’s future. And while I will not make this speech long—" his tone lightened slightly "—as I’m sure you’re all famished..."

He turned, giving another subtle signal.

The knights stepped forward and pushed open the towering doors behind them—revealing the grand dining hall beyond. A long table stretched the length of the chamber, laden with silver platters, steaming delicacies, crystal goblets, and floral centerpieces that thankfully did not buzz.

"Let us go in," Heinz said.

’First phase of the summit done, now it’s time for the real challenge.’