Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 517

Chapter 517: ’Sanctus Regnum’

As expected, the crowd erupted. Gasps, whispers, even the sharp snap of a fan breaking the silence—all swirled through the hall like a sudden storm.

The nobles couldn’t contain their shock at the way Heinz had so coldly dismissed the Sereneson family.

Yet, to Florian’s surprise—or perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised at all—Monica merely dipped her head, serene and composed, her smile never faltering.

Hendrix followed, his bow sharp and precise, the corners of his lips twitching as if in challenge, though he masked it with grace.

Marius, however, trembled. The King of Tranquilis stiffened, his hands clenching at his robes before he finally bowed as well. His voice wavered when he spoke. "Of course, Your Majesty."

They stepped aside, retreating with quiet dignity, though the air around them hummed with tension.

From the corner of his vision, Florian caught sight of Athena in the crowd. Her wide pink eyes were frozen in confusion, darting between Heinz and her family.

Her lips parted slightly, as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t. At her side, Scarlett looked just as startled, her gaze flicking toward Florian, silently pleading for answers.

Florian’s stomach twisted. He wanted to go to them, to ease Athena’s distress, to explain something—anything. But the moment chained him in place.

Not now.

Not with every eye in the hall pressing on him like a weight.

Instead, he leaned slightly closer to Heinz, keeping the smile plastered across his lips for the sake of appearances. His words were a whisper, soft enough to be lost in the crowd’s restless murmuring.

"Your Majesty, was that really necessary?"

Heinz gave no answer at first, his gaze fixed firmly ahead, posture carved from stone. The whispers in the crowd only thickened in the silence, stretching the tension tight.

Then, at last, he leaned the barest inch toward Florian, his reply sharp and quiet.

"They were taking too long."

Florian blinked, his forced smile twitching. "The king was just—"

"They were taking too long," Heinz cut in again, firmer this time, the finality of his tone like iron.

Florian frowned, the mask slipping for only a heartbeat before he recovered.

’Is he seriously doing this right now? You know what—why am I even surprised?’

He let out a soft sigh, the kind that never reached the surface, his lips still curled upward for the restless nobles watching them from below.

His eyes remained forward, fixed on the grand entrance as the herald stepped forth, clearing his throat to command attention once again.

The next kingdom would arrive soon. And Florian braced himself.

And oh God—he didn’t think it could get any worse.

The herald stepped forward, his voice booming through the hall, every syllable carrying the weight of ceremony and command.

"Introducing... the royal family from the Sanctus Regnum—"

Florian’s stomach dropped like a stone into cold water. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as his heart slammed, heavy and uneven, against his ribs.

It was them.

It was Alexandria’s kingdom.

Her family.

The crowd rippled instantly, a wave of murmurs breaking out among jeweled nobles and watchful knights. Fans fluttered open, whispers hissed like serpents in the silence of the grand hall.

"Sanctus Regnum?"

"They actually came?"

"After what happened to their princess—"

Florian’s vision tunneled, the walls closing in. His palms went damp as dread coiled through his veins.

He already knew they had accepted the invitation, but between the endless planning, the suffocating duties, and Heinz’s constant shadow pressing against him, he had forgotten. He had let it slip from his mind like sand through his fingers.

And now—here they were.

’I don’t even know why they accepted. Heinz had Alexandria executed.’

Unless...

The herald’s voice cut through his thoughts, sealing the horror.

"The holy Divinarae family!"

Her chin was high, her posture a blade. But it was her eyes that unsettled—bright, piercing, unblinking—gazing not at the crowd, but through it, as though searching for weakness in every soul present.

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