Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 310: ’Bees? Not Bees?’

Thud.

A loud thud echoed across the marble steps of the palace.

The Flameheart carriage had barely come to a full stop when its door was thrown open with a dramatic flourish. Alexandrius Flameheart, bold and brash as ever, didn’t wait for his butlers. He jumped off the carriage like the palace owed him the ground beneath his feet.

Behind him followed two men.

One was immediately recognizable to Florian—Andrew. Their last meeting had been brief, but memorable for all the wrong reasons. Andrew carried himself with a smugness that made the skin on Florian’s neck prickle. He had the same arrogance etched into his bones as his father, Alexandrius.

Next to him was a younger man Florian hadn’t seen before.

’Most likely one of Lancelot’s brothers.’ he guessed, studying the stranger’s calm demeanor. ’How many brothers does Lancelot even have?’

A butler, clearly panicked and sweating under the pressure of appearances, scrambled into position before hastily calling out:

"Presenting His Grace, Duke Alexandrius Flameheart, along with Lord Andrew and Lord Alucard Flameheart!"

’Alucard, huh.’ Florian noted, storing the name away.

King Heinz stepped forward with the practiced poise of royalty. "Duke Flameheart, Lord Andrew, Lord Alucard—it has been some time. Welcome back to Diamond Palace."

Florian was just about to step forward with his own greeting when someone gently tugged on his sleeve.

"Huh—?" He turned and blinked in surprise. "Alexandria?"

Her usually bright expression was now taut with discomfort. "Prince Florian," she whispered, "I—I have to use the bathroom. The other princesses already have their bouquets... could you give this one in my place?"

There was urgency in her eyes—real concern—and Florian could hardly refuse.

"...Of course," he whispered back.

Her face lit up with relief. "Thank you," she said softly, passing him the small bouquet of red and gold flowers meant for the duke. Then she quickly turned and tiptoed toward Delilah, whispering something in the head maid’s ear. Delilah’s eyes flicked to Florian briefly before she gave Alexandria a subtle nod, allowing the young princess to leave without consequence.

’Is she even allowed to just go like that? I hope she doesn’t get scolded...’ Florian worried inwardly.

He didn’t have long to dwell. Athena had moved beside him, clutching her own bouquet. As the one chosen to present a gift to the duke’s heir, she was supposed to hand it to Andrew.

As they stepped closer, Andrew’s eyes landed on them. His gaze drifted first to Florian, then to Athena, who was nervously fiddling with her sleeves and refusing to make eye contact.

"Your Highness," Andrew said stiffly before glancing at Athena with a leer. "And who is this little cutie?"

"She’s one of the princesses," Florian said sharply, voice edged with warning. "Just one out of the many princesses in the king’s harem."

Athena flinched slightly behind him, shrinking under Andrew’s stare.

"Ah." Andrew chuckled as he accepted her bouquet. "I forgot how feisty you were, Your Highness," he muttered under his breath.

’And I forgot how absolutely creepy you were.’ Florian gritted his teeth and turned toward Alexandrius, who was still chatting with Heinz, a smug grin plastered on his face like he owned the palace.

"...Then I look forward to—" Alexandrius cut himself off mid-sentence when he noticed Florian approaching with bouquet in hand. His brow lifted in condescension. "What is this?"

Florian stopped in front of him, posture straight. "Duke Flameheart, this is a gift from us to you. A small token of welcome and appreciation for your presence."

His voice was flat, mechanical. Every word forced.

Alexandrius gave a short, mocking scoff. "Flowers? You’re giving me flowers?"

"It is custom," Florian said simply, extending the bouquet.

The duke’s lip curled. He clearly wanted to reject it, his hand hovering like it might get burned. But before he could say another word, the younger man beside him—Alucard—stepped forward and accepted the flowers instead.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Alucard said politely, with a short bow.

’Well... he seems nice?’ Florian thought, a bit disarmed, and offered him a faint smile in return.

Alexandrius clicked his tongue. "Why did you take that? It’s a bunch of girly nonsense. If you want to thank us, then actually—"

He didn’t get to finish.

Suddenly, from within the bouquet Alucard held, a soft buzz erupted.

Something crawled out from between the petals.

Florian’s eyes widened.

’A bee? No... not a bee?’

It was small—winged and black—but looked far more aggressive, like something crossbred between a wasp and a scorpion. Its sharp stinger glinted in the light. Another one followed. Then another.

Alucard recoiled slightly.

Alexandrius took one look and stumbled back, his face twisted in sheer horror. "What the fuck?!"

His voice boomed across the entranceway as one of the creatures buzzed past his face, and for the first time, Florian saw genuine fear in the duke’s eyes.

"Father!" Andrew exclaimed, surging forward just as Alucard flung the bouquet away. The cursed flowers hit the ground with a dull thud, petals scattering as winged abominations unfurled from within—unnatural things with veined wings and stingers that pulsed like they were alive.

Florian stumbled back instinctively, heart slamming against his ribs. Behind him, gasps broke out—soft, fearful cries from the princesses echoing through the grand entrance.

’What is happening?!’

Before the swarm could reach Alexandrius’ face, Andrew’s hand snapped up, blazing with a sudden rush of crimson fire.

A wave of heat surged outward as flames roared from his fingertips, engulfing the creatures mid-air in a crackling inferno. The sharp stench of burning chitin filled the courtyard, acrid and stomach-turning.

Alucard reached out quickly, steadying their father. "Are you alright, Father?"

Florian stood frozen, wide-eyed, the sound of the flames still hissing in his ears.

’What—what even were those?’

He whispered, almost to himself, "What was that?"

"Stingwraiths," Heinz answered, voice quiet and grim from just behind him. His eyes were locked on the remains, his jaw tight. "They nest in wild-cut flora. Extremely dangerous. Especially to those with allergies."

Andrew took a breath, brushing soot off his sleeves, then turned to Alexandrius. "Did it get near you—?"

But before he could finish, Alexandrius shoved both sons aside with a furious, almost animal snarl.

"YOU!" he roared, pointing a trembling finger at Florian. His face was red, veins straining at his temples, rage pouring off him in waves.

Florian’s mouth parted slightly. "W-What?"

"You did this on purpose!" Alexandrius stormed forward, each stomp of his boots heavy, thunderous. "You knew I was allergic to Stingwraiths! You tried to kill me, you little—!"

"H-How would I even know that?!" Florian blurted, stumbling back, eyes darting for an escape.

"Father, that’s enough!" Lancelot’s voice cut through the chaos, angry and sharp.

His footsteps pounded against the stone floor—but before he could reach them, Heinz moved.

He stepped forward and raised one arm, placing himself directly between Florian and the enraged duke.

And the world shifted.

It wasn’t just his stance—it was his presence. Cold, commanding. Dangerous.

Alexandrius skidded to a halt, blinking, as if something unseen had grabbed him by the throat. frёeωebɳovel.com

"Your Majesty," he rasped, trying to salvage his pride, "with all due respect, that prince—"

"...does not know what you are talking about," Heinz interrupted, voice low but razor-sharp. "And if you dare lay even a finger on him, I will personally punish you myself."

The words dropped like stones into a silent lake. Even the air seemed to still.

Heinz’s gaze narrowed, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Florian could not possibly have known about your allergies. No one here could. Stingwraiths are common in Devil’s Thorn blossoms—common enough that a careless florist could overlook them. The fault lies with the arrangement, not him."

He turned his gaze toward the scorched petals and curling smoke. "Whoever handled the bouquet will be held responsible."

Alexandrius opened his mouth, then caught the look on Heinz’s face.

He closed it again.

Florian couldn’t see Heinz’s expression from where he stood—but whatever was in it, it had stopped a man like Alexandrius in his tracks.

"Lucius," Heinz called, voice as steady as steel, "escort Duke Flameheart and his sons inside. Ensure his condition is stable and that the Stingwraith venom has not affected him."

Florian blinked. He hadn’t even noticed Lucius had returned.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Lucius stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Duke Flameheart, Lords Flameheart—please follow me."

They obeyed. Begrudgingly. Alexandrius cast one last glance over his shoulder—narrowed eyes locking onto Florian with a smoldering glare.

’Great. He hates me.’ Florian thought, stomach twisting slightly. ’I’m under his radar now.’

But even as dread prickled in his spine, another thought rose.

’If Alexandria had given the bouquet instead of me... she would’ve been the one blamed. The one in danger.’

Florian took a deep breath, watching as the Flameheart carriage was led around the side toward the guest halls. The Frostblade carriage behind it had yet to open.

The tension was still heavy in the air.

"Are you alright?" Heinz asked quietly, not looking at him.

"I’m fine, Your Majesty... I—I’m sorry for what happened."

Heinz was silent for a moment. Then he sighed through his nose.

"You had no fault. Do not apologize." His tone was firm, almost gentle. "He overreacted for someone descended from a long line of knights."

Florian blinked. "To be honest... his reaction was kind of funny."

Heinz’s shoulder twitched.

Was that—?

It was. A short, quiet laugh.

"That’s correct," Heinz murmured. "It was."

Something in Florian eased. His heart still beat a little too fast, but the cold panic had lessened. He’d been anxious about meeting the next duke—yet somehow, this moment, with Heinz beside him, made it all feel a little less terrifying.

"Thank you," Florian said softly, and meant it.

Heinz didn’t respond with words. He only glanced at him once, then turned his eyes forward—toward the next carriage, where the next duke was just beginning to step out.