Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 503

Chapter 503: ’Full Royal Experience.’

"What..."

Florian just blinked. His mind struggled to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.

He blinked once more—Cashew was already ushering a line of maids into the room, his hands moving in quick, excited gestures like a conductor leading an orchestra.

"The..."

He blinked again—suddenly the room was full of strange objects: silver bowls of herbs, towels steaming with heat, jars of creams and oils, brushes, combs, and fabrics spilling over every surface.

"Fuck...?"

The next thing Florian knew, he was no longer sitting on his bed but lying down on something entirely different.

A wide cushioned recliner, padded and soft, more suited for a noble spa than a prince’s chamber.

His arms rested limply at his sides, and before he could even process what was happening, a maid had spread a cool, thick paste over his face.

Another pressed her hands into his shoulders, kneading firmly, while two more were massaging his feet and hands with fragrant oils.

’I... I’m being attacked by comfort?!’ 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Florian shifted slightly, but the weight of the warm towels and the surprisingly strong grip of the maids kept him still.

He could feel the slick green mask drying over his face, tightening every time he so much as twitched his nose.

"I did my research, Your Highness," Drizelous declared proudly from somewhere above him.

Florian tilted his eyes upward and found the man standing with arms crossed dramatically, as though he had just revealed a masterstroke in some elaborate play.

Cashew, standing nearby, gave a sharp huff. "Alright, both of us did our research," Drizelous corrected with equal pride, his chest puffed out.

"According to the books I read," Cashew continued, glancing at a passing maid to ensure she was applying something to Florian’s hair correctly, "this is how princes begin their mornings in Floramatria when it is their birthday."

Florian gave a slow nod, though it was more out of politeness than genuine agreement. He was tired—far too tired for the bustle surrounding him.

’Just... relax. Breathe. Smile. Relax.’ That was what he kept telling himself, but the shadow of the nightmare still clung to the edges of his mind, whispering with every quiet pause between Cashew’s and Drizelous’s chatter.

Their voices filled the room like the background hum of a busy market, bright and animated.

Drizelous gestured wildly, speaking of schedules and outfits, while Cashew chimed in with eager affirmations, his tone warm and lively.

They were so caught up in their planning that Florian almost felt invisible, lying there under the care of the maids.

He forced a small smile, letting his eyes wander to Cashew.

At least... at least Cashew was alright now. The heavy weight that had once lingered around the boy was gone.

He didn’t remember Hendrix, didn’t remember knowing about Hendrix, or the truth of the original Florian’s execution. The burden that had nearly crushed him had been lifted, and in its absence Cashew had flourished.

Especially now, as the stand-in head maid, he had found his place. There was confidence in the way he carried himself, warmth in the way the other maids leaned toward him for guidance.

He’d even grown closer to Drizelous—two very different personalities finding balance in their shared cause.

’At least that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about...’ Florian thought, letting the tension in his shoulders loosen just a little.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sound was firm, cutting cleanly through the chatter and the soft rustle of fabrics.

Florian’s head tilted toward the door instinctively, arms stiffening against the weight of the warm towels draped over him.

’They’re coming?’

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