Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 514

Chapter 514: ’My Ever So Lovely Florian.’

"Presenting."

The herald’s voice boomed across the ballroom, sharp and commanding, echoing through the vaulted ceiling.

The sound rattled in Florian’s chest, and his heart skipped violently, beating faster than it ever had before.

Instinctively, his grip on Heinz’s arm tightened, fingers curling against the silken sleeve as though clinging for dear life.

"Nervous?" Heinz’s voice brushed against his ear, low and teasing, the kind of whisper that managed to steady and unnerve him all at once.

They stepped forward in tandem, the grand balcony doors opening to spill a wave of light and music upon them.

"Mhm..." Florian managed a soft hum, nodding quickly, eyes darting toward the sea of people below.

’Too many eyes... far too many eyes...’

"Don’t be," Heinz murmured smoothly, the faintest curl of a smile touching his lips as he leaned just a fraction closer. "You are the star of this night. So shine with confidence, Ilúvarei."

Florian’s eyes widened, his breath catching sharply. That word—Ilúvarei. He had heard Heinz speak it before, but never like this.

It was always whispered in moments of intimacy, tangled in breathless gasps and heat. Never here, never under these chandeliers with so many watching.

His lips parted in disbelief. "What—"

But the herald’s voice thundered again, cutting him off.

"His Royal Majesty, King Heinz, and His Royal Highness, Prince Florian Obsidian."

Florian blinked, his head snapping toward the herald, stunned.

’Now that’s a mistake.’

The name fell heavy into the air, a ripple of murmurs rising from the crowd below. Obsidian. The surname of Concordia’s royal line—not his.

It wasn’t a big deal to him personally—he could live with a misstep—but his stomach knotted with worry. If there was anyone who despised errors, it was Heinz.

’Would this... anger him?’

Carefully, Florian tilted his head toward the king. But Heinz didn’t seem perturbed at all. No scowl. No correction barked across the hall. In fact, his face carried that same calm composure, his expression unreadable save for the faint spark in his eyes.

’Oh... I guess it’s okay.’ Florian exhaled silently, tension easing from his chest.

They continued forward, step by step, and the grand hall shifted as all eyes rose to them. Florian felt the heat of countless gazes, a wave of awe sweeping through the crowd.

The Princesses, dukes, nobles of every standing—they all watched, their whispers hushed, their faces alight with fascination.

His breath caught again.

The ballroom was a sea of color, a world spun from silks and jewels. Each noble wore garments woven with Floramatrian inspiration, intricate patterns of flowing lines and layered textures.

What stunned him most, however, were the women—the princesses in particular.

Their gowns were unlike anything Florian had seen before: armor kissed by elegance, steel softened by silk. Corsets shaped like breastplates, skirts split to reveal the suggestion of boots beneath, every detail a perfect balance between warrior and sovereign.

Gleaming pauldrons melted into beaded lace, and swords dangled like accessories at their waists. They were knights dressed as queens, radiating grace and power all at once.

Florian’s eyes widened further. ’They look... magnificent.’

Step by step, he and Heinz descended the wide staircase. The polished marble reflected the golden glow of the chandeliers above, each stride echoing faintly.

The hush of the crowd deepened, broken only by gasps and soft, admiring murmurs.

"Oohs" and "ahs" rippled through the nobles, like a tide rising with every measured step they took. The awe wasn’t for Heinz—not solely. It was centered upon Florian.

Every gaze turned toward him.

Every breath seemed to still for him.

It was... strange.

Heinz wasn’t just presenting him. He was claiming him.

’What am I even thinking? Me? Heinz’s queen? That’s ridiculous.’

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