Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 265: ’Yes, I did say that.’

"Yes, I did say that."

Florian couldn’t help the smug little huff that escaped him as those words left Heinz’s mouth. A rare, golden moment of satisfaction bloomed in his chest. He and Delilah had gone straight to the king’s office, and now here they were—with Florian proven right.

Delilah’s expression dropped like a stone in a still pond.

Florian didn’t even know who Drizelous was yet, but watching her composure crack was already more rewarding than it should’ve been.

"But... but why?" Delilah asked, her voice laced with something between disbelief and protest.

Florian turned to her with a pointed look.

’Really? What is the deal with this Drizelous person?’ he thought, eyes narrowing. ’You’re acting like I was just sent to meet the devil himself.’

Heinz didn’t even flinch. "I’m hosting a summit," he said smoothly, flipping through a stack of papers with the air of someone discussing weather. "The first summit I’ve held since I became king. Florian will represent me."

Florian straightened slightly, the weight of those words slow to hit him.

’Represent... the king? At a summit? With nobles and officials?’

Delilah, meanwhile, looked like someone had just poured ice water down her back.

"But... he doesn’t need to go see Drizelous for that, Your Majesty," she pressed, tone edged with urgency. "You know what this could mean to the dukes. Even to the princesses."

’Oh? What would it mean?’ Florian wondered, now officially intrigued—and maybe a little alarmed.

Heinz didn’t glance up. "I get your concern, Delilah. But I don’t have time to explain it further. Just do it."

And there it was—that subtle but deliberate softness in Heinz’s voice. It wasn’t the usual curt command Florian had grown used to. No edge. No bite. No threat.

It caught him off guard.

He looked between the two of them, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

’Why’s he so patient with her? He’s never like that with anyone. Not even Lucius.’

Now that he thought about it, Heinz hadn’t raised his voice once since Delilah walked in. Not even a scolding glance. And Delilah—she was talking back, questioning the king without even flinching.

’Are they... close? Have they known each other a long time?’ Florian mused, mind turning. ’Delilah’s been around since forever, hasn’t she? Unlike Lucius, who Heinz promoted after becoming king... maybe she’s been here since before that. Maybe even since childhood.’

There was no more argument after that. Delilah clearly knew better than to press Heinz further once he had spoken like that. With stiff shoulders and a resigned frown, she bowed low, hand across her front.

"As you wish," she said, voice tight with disapproval.

She turned sharply, her gaze landing on Florian—and gods, if looks could kill.

Florian resisted the urge to grin.

He never picked fights with the elderly. Really, he didn’t. But Delilah had been testing his patience lately, and this little victory? It felt good.

"Follow me, Your Highness," she said crisply, already pulling out her mana stone.

It was the same glowing blue crystal she used earlier, the kind Lucius also carried—an exclusive item, clearly reserved for the palace’s highest-ranking servants. Only the head butler and head maid, it seemed, were trusted enough to teleport within the palace at will.

As soon as it began to glow, Florian felt the shift in the air—the magic pulling at the space around them, bending it. Their surroundings were about to change.

"Oh, bye, Your Majesty," he said suddenly, tossing the farewell over his shoulder as the light intensified.

Heinz looked up.

"Goodbye," he replied, calm and deliberate, his crimson eyes meeting Florian’s for just a beat before returning to his paperwork.

It was the first time he had looked up since Delilah entered.

And Delilah noticed.

The way her lips pressed into a thin, bitter line said everything. Her expression soured further, a storm cloud darkening her features as she turned away.

Then, in a blink, the world around them twisted and shifted.

Light bent.

Air thinned.

And when it settled, they were somewhere else entirely—another room in the palace, unfamiliar and quiet.

Florian glanced around, trying to place where they’d landed.

’Drizelous better not be a monster or some secret dragon or whatever,’ he thought grimly. ’Because if I’ve been sent on a death mission just so Heinz can avoid talking to the dukes, I swear to all that is holy—’

He cut the thought short, eyes darting toward Delilah.

She wasn’t saying a word.

But her silence felt louder than ever.

"That was incredibly unethical," Delilah said curtly, the sharp click of her heels echoing against the polished marble floor like a ticking clock of judgment. "Speaking so casually to His Majesty—especially saying goodbye in such a tone—is highly inappropriate."

Florian blinked, mildly surprised by how fast the scolding came. Then, with a small shrug, he started after her, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "But His Majesty said goodbye too," he pointed out with faux innocence. "He responded and didn’t even scold me."

Delilah shot him a glance over her shoulder, the kind of look that could scrape paint off a wall. "It seems you’re taking advantage of His Majesty’s leniency."

Florian pressed a hand to his chest, eyes wide with exaggerated offense. "I’d never. We’ve just... gotten closer, that’s all."

He knew it wasn’t exactly true. Not in the way he was pretending. Sure, Heinz had become slightly more tolerant of him—maybe even fond, in a strange, distant way—but to call it closeness was definitely pushing it.

Still, the way Delilah’s lips thinned and her brow creased deeper than usual? It lit something smug and childish in him.

’That sour look on her old face is priceless.’

They continued in silence, tension practically clinging to the walls around them. The air felt heavier here—more expectant. And as they turned a corner Florian didn’t recognize, a subtle unease began to prickle at the edge of his thoughts.

He slowed a little.

’Wait a second... I’ve never been in this part of the palace.’

The shift in atmosphere was almost jarring. Gone were the pristine white pillars and familiar golden decor. The halls here bore older designs—carvings that curled like vines along the stone, tapestries that looked as if they’d been untouched for decades. The lighting dimmed slightly, and the chill in the air wasn’t just from the stone.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

’Not neglected... but preserved. Like a museum exhibit.’

His eyes flicked toward the windows—tall and stained, the kind you’d find in a chapel. He swallowed.

’Well... not like I explore much. I’m always terrified of getting lost in this place anyway.’

Delilah’s voice cut through his thoughts, softer this time, but still lined with that distinct steel. "Meeting Drizelous is a rare honor. You should thank His Majesty for allowing it."

Florian frowned. "Okay, but—who is Drizelous, anyway?"

No answer.

She just kept walking, giving him nothing. No hint. No explanation.

And then, finally, she stopped.

Before them stood a massive door, taller than any he’d seen in the palace. Golden in hue, but not gleaming—more like aged gold, dulled by time. The surface was covered in etched symbols, curling and twisting into an ancient script he couldn’t decipher. His eyes traced them, recognizing neither the language nor the design.

Delilah raised her hand, slower this time. There was a reverence in the way her fingers touched the handle, like she wasn’t opening a door but waking something.

’Why the dramatics? Who the hell is this guy?’

With the groan of old hinges, the door creaked open.

Florian instinctively leaned forward, craning his neck to see what was inside.

And then—

"Mother!"

A loud, theatrical voice rang out from within the room, startlingly clear and far too enthusiastic.

Florian jerked back like he’d been slapped. "Mother?" he repeated, turning to Delilah with wide eyes.

"What—"