Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 492

Chapter 492: ’Five More Days.’

Five more days passed, and just as Heinz had warned, they were busy—so busy that everything blurred together.

First, Florian, along with Athena and Scarlett, was buried in the endless planning for the upcoming ball. Details upon details, from seating charts to flower arrangements, consumed every waking moment.

The other princesses—Camilla, Bridget, and Mira—eventually joined in as well. It had been so long since Florian had seen them all together like this, and despite the stress, there was a certain comfort in it. Seeing them laugh, work, and thrive felt...nice. Almost normal.

Cashew had been another constant presence, stepping up where Delilah once had. With the head maid still absent, Cashew carried the duties almost flawlessly.

Apparently, that too was Heinz’s doing—his quiet order had placed Cashew in the position. From the looks of it, Heinz was already grooming her to become the new head maid.

That alone should have been something Florian mulled over, but there was no time. No space to think.

Because then came the second thing: the reports.

Heinz and Lancelot both spoke to him of the mass suicides sweeping through Concordia. Rogues captured were ending their own lives—by poison, by their own magic, by their own blades.

And yet, despite it all, more and more appeared, as though death only fueled their numbers. It didn’t make sense.

None of it did.

But Florian didn’t have the luxury to dwell on it. The ball demanded his attention, and if it wasn’t the preparations, it was the letters—dukes writing back with their acceptance, kingdoms sending word of excitement over the invitation.

All except one.

Floramatria.

The absence of their response dug at him, gnawed at his chest. Were they refusing to come? Offended? Planning something?

He had no answer, only the weight of dread pressing against his ribs. Still, he made sure they remained on the guest list. With or without a reply, they had to be invited.

And as if the stress wasn’t enough—there was Heinz.

Heinz, who was everywhere.

Heinz, who was all over him.

There was no space anymore, no reprieve. Wherever Florian went, Heinz was there, shadowing him. And if Heinz was occupied, he made sure to take Florian along with him.

It was because of this that Florian knew Heinz was knee-deep in investigating the rogue activities, as well as the trafficking of ancient and forbidden spells in the underground markets of Concordia. To Florian, the two felt connected, though he hadn’t had the chance to say much.

Because most of the time... Heinz had him in his bed.

Every day, without fail. Sometimes twice. Sometimes three times. Leaving Florian wrung out, aching, exhausted beyond measure. He wanted to ask—needed to ask—what was going on with Heinz, why he seemed so different, so restless, so insistent.

But Heinz only ever answered the same.

"On your birthday."

Drizelous and Scarlett had even cornered him about it while planning his outfit. The whispers had spread, of course—how Florian still hadn’t returned to his own room.

How he was always tired. How Heinz never let him out of sight. Everyone in the palace had their own version of the story now.

And stranger still, the princesses didn’t seem upset. Not one of them. In fact, they almost seemed to enjoy the freedom his supposed "relationship" gave them, free from Heinz’s constant scrutiny.

Florian just...felt wrong about it. Off. Everything felt tilted, like a painting hung just slightly askew.

And then, there was Hendrix.

Gone. Completely gone. Not once had he appeared, even in the rare moments when Heinz was too busy. No voice, no shadow, no presence. Even when Florian called for him, begged for him to come—silence. Cashew too seemed untouched by him, as though Hendrix had vanished entirely.

It was strange.

All of it.

Everything was strange.

"Your Highness, dear prince, what’s on your mind?"

The sudden voice snapped Florian out of his thoughts. He looked up to find Drizelous watching him closely, arms crossed, eyes sharp but soft with concern.

"Oh, it’s nothing. Just...stuff."

"There. We’re done." Drizelous clapped his hands, pleased. "Now, tomorrow I’ll personally bring your outfit and help you into it. Princess redhead volunteered to help with the finishing touches—her words, not mine, ’to make you pretty.’ I’ve already told His Majesty not to come barging in. Your look has to be a surprise."

Drizelous’s eyes glittered, dangerous with pride. "It’s even better. And because it’s better, I’d kill anyone who dares ruin it. Fortunately, His Majesty already thought ahead—he assigned knights just to guard it."

’They’re all really going all out on this,’ Florian thought, smiling faintly.

"My, my. You always thank me as if I didn’t choose you to be my muse, Your Highness."

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