Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 524

"Well? Are you just going to keep staring at me?"

Florian froze, the words striking him like an arrow straight through his chest.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The woman before him stood taller than most in the ballroom, her very presence bending the atmosphere around her. Nobles instinctively shifted aside as if some unseen force demanded space for her.

Her hair—white as fresh snow—spilled past her shoulders, shimmering beneath the chandeliers like strands of silver.

It framed a face both sharp and elegant, carrying the dignity of someone who had long since learned how to wield respect without asking for it.

And her clothes—no glittering gown, no courtly embellishment. She wore a warrior's garb, fitted to her frame with precision, practical and unyielding, yet still refined.

Each seam, each polished clasp hinted at someone accustomed not to pageantry, but to command. To battles both on the field and within halls such as this.

But it was her eyes that made Florian's chest seize.

Green.

Not a dull or muddied shade, but piercing, alive—the same striking green that stared back at him in his own reflection.

There was no mistaking it. No denying it.

Her.

And yet… that wasn't why his throat had gone dry, why his feet felt nailed to the marble floor.

It was her name.

The ballroom noise dulled. The laughter of nobles, the clink of goblets, even the soaring waltz of strings and piano—all of it faded into a low hum, as though the world itself had drawn back, leaving only him and her standing in its center.

His lungs burned. His gaze locked on hers, unblinking, unwilling—unable—to look away.

"Florian, are you alright?"

The voice pulled him back, sharp and grounding.

Heinz.

A steady hand pressed against the small of his back, firm but not forceful, anchoring him in place.

The king leaned down, crimson eyes narrowed, his expression softened with something rare: concern.

His voice was low, meant only for Florian, yet it carried the weight of command all the same.

"I'm—" Florian started, his voice unsteady. He didn't even know what he was about to say, only that Heinz's hand at his back and the piercing gaze of green eyes before him had tied his tongue in knots.

But before he could form a word, another hand caught his arm.

He startled, whipping his head to the side—Heinz turned as well, eyes flashing.

"Rian."

The voice was soft, but laced with steel.

Kazaria.

Her smile was sharp enough to cut glass, her fingers curling around his arm with the easy familiarity of someone who had every right to touch him. "Come now, why are you ignoring me? I've been wanting to talk to you since earlier."

Without hesitation, she tugged him toward her.

But Heinz's arm was still firm around his waist. His grip did not budge.

Florian felt the tension immediately—one pull forward, one hold back, his body the rope in their silent tug-of-war. His breath caught, his eyes darting between the two of them. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"He's the celebrant," Heinz said, his voice smooth but cold, laced with a subtle threat. "Of course he's busy."

Florian's head snapped toward him, his brows furrowing. Why is he saying it like that?

Kazaria's expression barely shifted, though her voice dropped into something flatter, sharper. "Your Majesty."

Deadpan.

Flat enough that even the surrounding hum of the ballroom seemed to hush.

"I'm quite surprised. You were just on the other side of the ballroom," she said, her green eyes glinting beneath the chandelier's glow. "And within a blink of an eye, you're beside my baby brother. Truly impressive."

Her tone was dry, but the word baby landed like a knife, deliberate and taunting.

Heinz smirked faintly, the corner of his mouth curving with that infuriating confidence of his. "To hear a fine warrior say that," he replied, his grip at Florian's waist tightening subtly, "it is also an honor."

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