Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 306: ’To Be Pulled.’

"How so?" Florian asked, brow arching ever so slightly.

Heinz’s gaze flicked toward him, and for a split second—just a fraction—something shifted in those crimson eyes. A spark. A flicker. There and gone, like lightning behind storm clouds.

"I can’t say," Heinz said smoothly, voice calm as ever. "It would ruin the surprise."

Florian blinked, lips parting in disbelief. "You can’t give me even a hint?"

"No," Heinz replied, tone final. "That would give you an advantage. The test has to be authentic."

’Seriously? Advantage? I’m not even trying to win this thing.’ Florian exhaled slowly through his nose, willing himself to stay calm.

He stepped back slightly, arms folding across his chest. "But I’m only doing this because of your plan to catch a traitor. Why does it matter if it’s authentic?"

Heinz leaned back against the desk, casual and composed, as if none of this held any real weight. "Precisely because of that. If it’s not authentic, it won’t provoke the reactions we need to observe."

Then, his lips curved. Barely—but it was there.

"Besides..." he added, eyes never leaving Florian, "it’ll be interesting to see you go through it."

Florian resisted the urge to roll his eyes so hard they left his skull. Instead, he settled for a dry, awkward laugh. "Right. Glad I can still entertain you, Your Majesty."

Heinz didn’t reply.

He just... watched.

And suddenly, the room felt quieter. Not heavy like before, but suspended—like something unsaid was hanging in the air between them. Not quite comfortable. Not quite uncomfortable either. Just... something.

Florian’s gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, then drifted sideways.

His mind wandered—back to the moment the door had opened earlier. Princess Alexandria had emerged, posture poised, expression calm and unreadable. Regal in every sense. Like she belonged there. Like she’d always belonged.

’Was she the one who came up with the idea for the test?’

"Was it Lady Alexandria?" he asked aloud, voice softer this time. "The one who thought of the test, I mean."

"Yes," Heinz answered without hesitation.

Florian blinked, genuinely surprised. "Really? Huh... I thought Lady Bridget or Lady Mira would’ve taken the initiative."

Heinz nodded, arms still loosely crossed. "Normally, yes. But Alexandria’s changed. She’s much more talkative now. More assertive than the Alexandria I knew in my first life."

’First life... right...’

A subtle shiver ran down Florian’s spine.

It was so easy to forget sometimes—that Heinz, this man standing before him, had already lived a full life. A king with memories of another timeline. A king who knew things Florian never would.

Florian’s thoughts drifted further—dangerously so.

He remembered how the original novel had described Heinz. Charming. Strategic. Flirtatious in all the right ways. The kind of man who could make a woman feel like the center of the universe just by glancing her way. The kind of man who did spend time with the princesses—especially in the earlier Chapters.

The original Florian... the one meant to suffer... would watch from the sidelines, silently enduring as Heinz showered the princesses with attention.

And not even spare him a glance.

Florian’s stomach twisted without warning.

’Wait. No. It’s happening again.’

The feeling crept up like rot behind his ribs. A tight, invisible pressure that clawed around his lungs and refused to let go.

’Why can’t this just stop? I hate feeling like this. And now in front of Heinz too?’

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress it. But it stayed.

So tangled in his thoughts, Florian didn’t even notice Heinz staring at him again.

"Why is your face like that?" Heinz asked suddenly, cutting into the silence like a blade.

Florian blinked. "Huh?"

"You’re making a face. Like you just drank something sour," Heinz said, his head tilted slightly in curiosity. "That’s sudden, even for you, Florian."

Florian’s eyes widened in quiet horror. "I—I’m not making a face," he muttered, quickly averting his gaze.

Heinz didn’t relent. "Do you see yourself?"

’This bastard.’

Now Florian really couldn’t meet his eyes.

"I don’t, but..." he huffed, crossing his arms tighter against his chest, like it could guard him from the embarrassment crawling over his skin. "I would know if I’m making a face."

Heinz chuckled. A rich, amused sound. "So, are you saying me, the king, is just seeing things?"

Florian narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

’He’s pulling the king card.’

That damned king card.

Once Heinz said that, there was nothing Florian could argue. Not without looking disrespectful, not without breaking the unspoken rules.

And worst of all? Heinz knew that.

He wasn’t using it to control him. He wasn’t using it to punish.

He was using it to win the conversation.

And that made it ten times more annoying.

Florian could only sigh, his breath leaving him in a quiet rush of resignation. "Well... I best be off now, Your Majesty," he said, forcing a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "It’s a big day tomorrow, and I’m still feeling very anxious."

He turned on his heel, not waiting for a reply.

’I need to get out of here. I don’t even know why my legs dragged me here in the first place.’

His footsteps were light, practiced—an elegant escape. He had every intention of leaving. Of putting distance between himself and the strange, tangled feeling that always lingered around Heinz like smoke.

But—

Just as his fingers brushed the edge of the door—

A hand closed around his arm.

Not harshly. It wasn’t rough or forceful. But it was firm—tight enough that he couldn’t ignore it.

"What—?" he breathed, startled.

Before he could process it further, the grip on his arm tugged sharply, spinning him back around. His balance faltered slightly, but Heinz’s other hand caught his waist, steadying him.

And then—

He was close.

Too close.

Heinz had pulled him right into his space, close enough that Florian could feel the heat of his body, could hear the quiet, steady rhythm of his breath.

The air between them shifted.

’What the fuck?’

Florian’s heart stuttered violently in his chest. His thoughts spun into static. And yet, outwardly, he somehow kept his voice from cracking—barely.

"Y-Your Majesty..." he said, eyes wide, lips parted. "What... what are you doing?"