Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 282: ’The Fruits Of Genius!’

A few more days passed. Quiet, drifting days—though nothing ever stayed truly quiet for long.

Just a few more weeks remained before the end of Emberreach. Three more months until Heinz turned twenty-two.

Which also meant... three more months until Florian’s supposed death by execution—and Heinz’s death, too.

It was a grim countdown, a shadow hanging above them. Something Florian couldn’t help but mentally cross off day by day, even though—hopefully—they’d already managed to change that outcome.

’I’m still breathing. So is Heinz. That has to count for something...right?’ Florian would think, sometimes staring up at the ornate ceiling of his chambers long after everyone else had gone.

But peace didn’t bring certainty.

Especially not with danger still looming—creeping in through the cracks of the palace like smoke in a sealed room. No matter how many times they went over it, neither Heinz nor Florian had uncovered who the strange man truly was. Nor how he kept slipping past the ever-tightening security like it was nothing.

That alone made Florian’s skin crawl.

Truthfully, not too much had changed over the past few days.

Well—maybe that wasn’t true.

Some things had changed. Some big things.

Lancelot had been busier than ever. Training new knights. Drilling them until they could no longer stand. More soldiers were stationed across the palace grounds now—especially around Florian’s personal wing. Every corridor leading to him had turned into a gauntlet of steel and vigilance.

It would’ve been comforting if it didn’t feel so... suffocating.

People started whispering. Of course they did. The palace was practically a pressure cooker for rumors. The sudden increase in guards around Florian—especially after the visit from Drizelous—set tongues wagging.

Somehow, everyone knew now.

They knew Florian had been fitted by Drizelous.

’Did Heinz tell someone? No... no, he wouldn’t. Then how did it get out? Was someone listening in? Watching?’

Heinz, ever the calm tactician, didn’t seem too fazed by the spreading news. He let it slide. Trusted the rumor would die out.

But Delilah was visibly distressed. Lucius too, in his usual quiet, meticulous way. They both made efforts to douse the fires—tried to cut the whispering short—but with Heinz’s open support and the visible increase in Florian’s security... it only added more fuel.

It didn’t matter. Florian was used to being talked about.

Besides, other things were taking up his time. He’d been seeing more of Athena and Alexandria lately. They would gather in his room for tea, sometimes midmorning, sometimes late afternoon. Their conversations flowed easily now—warm, occasionally biting, always grounding.

Scarlett had surprised him, though.

She came to ask about Heinz’s answer—the one she was too scared to hear. When Florian reassured her, her shoulders visibly relaxed. After that, she stayed a little longer. She wasn’t quite friendly, not yet, but she wasn’t cold either. She was... learning.

She even let it slip, once or twice, that she had been spending time with Athena.

That made Florian smile. ’Maybe they’ll become friends too. That would be... nice.’

Heinz and Florian had started meeting more regularly as well. Usually in Heinz’s office—quiet, dimly lit, often smelling faintly of old parchment and tea.

Sometimes they met to work: planning strategies for the upcoming summit, poring over reports, trying to piece together who the strange man could be.

Sometimes, they met to talk: about the village of Forgotten Waters, about Azure—who still coiled up comfortably in Florian’s room—or about memories Florian might be regaining from the original Florian.

But sometimes, they just sat.

No words. No agendas.

Just the sound of pages turning as Heinz worked and Florian sat nearby, sipping tea, staring out the window.

He didn’t really know why it felt... right. Comforting. Necessary, even.

’Maybe I’m getting used to him.’

It was strange, how that realization didn’t scare him like it used to.

As for Cashew...

That was still a complicated knot in his chest.

Florian had been trying to figure out how to bring it up. The question. The suspicion. Whether Cashew had met with the strange man—or worse, helped him.

There was no proof. Just a gut feeling. But that instinct was insistent, sharp, and it wouldn’t let go.

Cashew had been acting more like his usual self lately. He smiled more. He didn’t freeze up around Lucius anymore. He chatted with Lancelot when he came by to update Florian on the Forgotten Waters investigation.

But that normalcy was exactly what made Florian wary.

It felt too timed. Too sudden.

Like a performance.

And the more natural Cashew acted, the more Florian’s unease grew.

’Is it guilt? Or is it intuition? I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to doubt him. But what if I’m right...?’

Still, Florian hadn’t confronted him.

Not yet.

And then today arrived.

Today—well, today was apparently important.

"Ah! Your Majesty, it has been a while. It has truly been a while!" Drizelous practically beamed, clapping his hands together in delight. His round spectacles slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose as he bounced on the balls of his feet, radiating barely-contained glee.

He peeked to the side, his eyes gleaming.

"And of course, Your Highness! My second muse." His hands twitched in excitement. "To see you both here together—ah, I cannot wait!"

Florian blinked, uncertain whether to be flattered or concerned.

Drizelous practically vibrated where he stood, the silk ribbons on his sleeves fluttering like they had minds of their own, caught in the storm of his excitement. His eyes gleamed behind his crooked spectacles, flitting between Heinz and Florian with a fervor that bordered on obsession—like he was witnessing the climax of a masterpiece he’d been envisioning for years.

Heinz stood beside Florian, tall and impassive, his posture relaxed but authoritative. He offered nothing more than a curt nod. "Drizelous."

His voice was calm. Unbothered. Almost bored.

’How is he so nonchalant about all this?’ Florian thought, shifting ever so slightly where he stood, hands clasped neatly in front of him. He managed a polite smile for Drizelous, though the fluttering in his chest said otherwise.

"It’s nice to see you again, Drizelous."

"Oh, my muses," Drizelous gasped, nearly trembling with delight. He pressed his hands to his cheeks as if trying to contain an explosion of emotion before pointing animatedly between the two of them. "Together, no less! Today is a historic day! I can already feel the creative forces aligning—like fate itself has blessed this union!"

Florian blinked. Once. Twice. Trying desperately not to show how thrown off he was by the dramatics.

’Why do I suddenly feel like prey in a cage... and he’s the cat who’s been waiting for dinner?’

Drizelous’s eyes glittered dangerously as he leaned toward Heinz, voice rising in a theatrical lilt. "Your Majesty! You’ve made yourself so elusive lately. No fittings! No notes! Not even a glimpse of that stern face! What is a humble artist to do when his greatest canvas is always locked away in his war room, plotting things I don’t understand?"

Heinz blinked slowly. "I was busy."

That was it. Just two words. Flat. Unbothered.

Florian tilted his head slightly, glancing at Heinz with faint curiosity. ’He hasn’t been to see Drizelous in a while? But he always looks... flawless. Like his clothes were made for him...’

Drizelous let out an exaggerated sigh and turned away, arms flailing dramatically. "Busy, he says! Always busy! But now—now—you show up with him!" He spun to point a glittering finger at Florian. "The second muse! The lovely jewel of Emberreach! I must say, I am both delighted and intrigued."

Heinz didn’t so much as twitch. Just a mildly raised brow.

’How is he not even a little embarrassed?’ Florian wondered, the corners of his lips twitching. The air felt warmer now—no, stuffier. Or maybe that was just the awkwardness wrapping around him like a thick shawl. He cleared his throat gently.

"I’ve been doing fine," he said, maintaining his manners. "I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve made."

Drizelous lit up like the sun piercing through storm clouds. "He speaks! And such grace! Such modesty!" he cried, spinning in place with the glee of a child about to open presents. His wild curls bounced with each dramatic motion as he strode toward a long row of mannequins, all draped under a single, massive white cloth that looked like it was hiding divine secrets.

"I poured my soul into this," he declared. "Days! Blood, sweat, tears—and a generous amount of glamour! Are you both ready to be amazed?"

Heinz responded with the flick of his hand, a lazy little circle in the air. A silent: Get on with it.

Florian barely contained a laugh, lips pressing together to suppress the smile threatening to break free. ’He really doesn’t care how dramatic Drizelous gets, huh... Then again... they did grow up together. Maybe he’s just used to it.’

Drizelous beamed like a madman who’d just cracked the final piece of a celestial puzzle. He grasped the edge of the cloth with the reverence of a priest unveiling a sacred relic.

"Then behold! The fruits of genius!"

And with a flamboyant yank, he tore the cloth away.