Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 529

Lucius's golden eyes lingered on Florian, sharp yet clouded with concern.

The way he studied him felt almost invasive, like he was peeling away the layers Florian fought so hard to keep intact.

Florian stiffened under that gaze, the weight of it pressing on his chest.

'He probably sees my emotions… no—he most likely already sees all of them.' He held the butler's stare anyway, refusing to let himself look away, even as his heart quickened.

"Did something happen, Your Highness?" Lucius asked at last, his voice calm but edged with tension. His words carried more than politeness—they carried the faint tremor of someone already fearing the answer. "Your… emotions."

The subtle pause made Florian's throat dry. He could feel it—the way his emotions were bleeding too strongly, but he was trying to

"There's something I need to know," Florian said, his voice quiet but carrying an iron thread beneath it. "And I feel like you might have the answers."

His eyes flicked briefly toward Lancelot, who stood straighter now, the knight's hand instinctively brushing the hilt of his sword as though bracing for trouble.

Florian's lips pressed together, then he exhaled, steadying himself. "You can come too, Lancelot," he added, his tone firm but not unkind. "Just in case you might also know something."

The knight's eyes widened, the silver-gray of them flashing with surprise. His brows furrowed as he stepped closer, his armor faintly clinking with the movement.

"This must be serious," Lancelot muttered, gaze darting between Florian and Lucius. He straightened to his full height, his posture shifting into that of a knight ready for command.

Lucius's expression, however, didn't change much—save for the faintest crease between his brows as he inclined his head. "Then let us find somewhere quieter, Your Highness," he said smoothly, though his golden eyes never left Florian's face, as if searching for answers.

"Okay."

They slipped away from the center of the ballroom, their movement quiet but purposeful.

Florian led the way, weaving between clusters of nobles with careful precision, each step carrying the weight of intent.

The deeper they moved into the fringes of the hall, the less overwhelming it became—the glittering noise of laughter, the delicate strum of strings, and the constant clinking of crystal glasses dimmed into little more than a muffled hum.

Shadows grew thicker near the columns and alcoves, offering the perfect corner away from the prying eyes of curious guests.

From the corner of his eye, Florian caught sight of Cashew, his small frame nearly swallowed by the silver tray he carried. The boy's smile looked bright, but it was edged with nerves, his shoulders too stiff to be natural.

And pressed to his back, awkwardly hidden within the folds of his clothes, was Azure. The tiny dragon's eyes darted left and right, his claws clutching at the fabric like a child refusing to let go.

Florian's lips twitched faintly. 'I haven't checked on them since coming into the ballroom. I should really talk to Cashew and see how Azure is doing… once I'm finished here.'

But now was not the time. He forced himself to look away. He had far heavier things to deal with.

Scanning the room again, he noticed something that made his chest unclench in quiet relief. Heinz was nowhere in sight.

Florian's heartbeat slowed, tension leaking from his shoulders. 'Good. If I can't see him, then that means he can't see me either.'

Relief washed over him like a small but precious victory.

Finally, they reached a recess tucked neatly into the far wall. The chandeliers' golden light barely reached this corner, leaving it cloaked in gentler shadows.

The muffled laughter of nobles felt distant here, as if the three of them had stepped into a different world entirely.

Lucius and Lancelot turned toward him in unison.

Lucius's golden eyes sharpened, calculating, as though he were already trying to piece together the meaning of Florian's urgency.

Lancelot, on the other hand, shifted into a protective stance, his armor faintly clinking as he squared his shoulders, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword. His gaze was steady but tinged with unease.

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