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

Florian lifted one of the pastries and took a careful bite. As expected, the edges were singed, the texture a little too crumbly—but despite their appearance, the taste surprised him.

Sweetness lingered on his tongue, balanced with just the right hint of butter.

'Burnt, yes… but good. Really good.'

Athena watched him nervously, her hands folded together in front of her while Scarlett leaned in eagerly, waiting for his reaction.

"Athena actually knows how to bake," Scarlett finally admitted, unable to keep the secret. "She apparently baked a lot back in her kingdom, so I just asked her to help me. While I taught her how to brew tea."

Athena's cheeks colored faintly as she lowered her gaze, but she smiled softly. "I only baked bread… mostly. Twice a week. I'd distribute them to our starving people. Food was scarce in the villages, but… we tried our best."

Her voice was calm, but there was a heaviness to it, and Florian caught the way her smile wavered. His chest tightened.

'Bread for starving villagers… and all because Heinz was terrorizing her kingdom. She doesn't even know.'

He forced his lips into a smile, though it felt heavy. 'I should really talk to Heinz about this. Soon.'

The four of them—Florian, Scarlett, Athena, and Azure perched like a smug overseer—spent nearly two hours savoring the imperfect pastries.

Between laughter, teasing, and the occasional crumb flicked across the table, the garden echoed with a warmth Florian wished he could bottle.

Eventually, both princesses excused themselves to prepare for the ball, leaving Florian with a lingering sense of contentment.

Still, Scarlett lingered behind Athena for just a moment, pulling Florian aside as Athena walked a few paces ahead.

"Athena and I… we're going to be partners for your ball," Scarlett said, her voice pitched low with excitement. "We even had our tailors prepare the perfect outfits."

Florian's brows rose, his smile growing. "You managed to ask her?"

Scarlett's freckled cheeks flared red as she shook her head. "Actually, no. She asked me."

Florian blinked. "She asked?"

'Athena? That shy princess?'

Scarlett nodded, unable to contain her grin. "The day we saw His Majesty with her… she came to my room after. She asked if I'd be her partner. I was so surprised I didn't know what to say at first but… I really think she likes me back."

Florian's grin turned knowing. "She definitely does. So I suggest you tell her how you feel soon."

The reminder of their uncertain futures lingered in the air—whether they would remain in Concordia or return to their kingdoms.

That reality made Florian's words carry more weight, and Scarlett's blush only deepened as she fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

Before she could muster a reply, Athena turned around, her brown hair catching in the breeze. "Scarlett? Are you alright? Your face is red… are you sick?" she asked with immediate concern, quickening her steps back toward her.

Scarlett froze, eyes widening. "N-No I—"

Florian's lips curled into a mischievous smirk. An idea—wicked and irresistible—sparked in his head.

"Yes, actually," he said with mock seriousness. "She's been looking a little hot, but I can't be sure. Maybe you should check for me, Athena?"

"F-Florian!" Scarlett sputtered, her eyes blazing with betrayal as her entire face burned crimson. She looked like she wanted to lunge at him.

Athena, completely oblivious to the joke, reached for Scarlett's forehead with all the gentle concern of a healer. "Oh no… do you have a fever? You should rest before the ball."

Scarlett let out a strangled sound, torn between melting into the touch and murdering Florian where he stood.

'Oh, this is adorable.'

Florian couldn't hold back his laughter. Clutching Azure from atop his head, he waved dismissively as he began backing away. "Anyways, I have to go now. See you both later!"

"Florian!" Scarlett's outraged shout rang across the garden.

Azure let out a sharp "kraa!" that sounded suspiciously like laughter as Florian fast-walked away, his grin wicked, knowing he had just bought himself an enemy in Scarlett—and endless amusement at her expense.

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

As soon as Florian parted ways with Scarlett and Athena, he wandered through the quiet halls, his steps echoing faintly against the polished marble floors.

His destination was simple—his room… or Heinz's… or perhaps their room?

The thought lingered, leaving him uncertain.

'What do I even call it? My room? Heinz's? Ours?'

The question felt heavier than it should have, tugging at the strange limbo of his life.

When he finally reached the door, he pushed it open with a soft creak. The chamber was still, sunlight streaming through the tall windows in golden shafts, catching against the silken drapes.

For once, it was blissfully empty. Drizelous and Cashew wouldn't be back to prepare him for another hour or two, leaving him in rare solitude.

"Perfect," he murmured under his breath.

His shoulders sagged as though a weight had been lifted. He set Azure gently onto the bed before dropping himself down beside the little dragon with a sigh.

"I know Drizelous and Cashew gave me a relaxing morning, but… having so many people in one room can be exhausting," Florian whispered, shifting onto his back.

His voice was low, almost conspiratorial, as though Azure were his confidant. "I've already socialized more than enough today. And if I'm going to keep it up… I need to recharge."

Azure tilted his head at the words, his gleaming eyes curious but uncomprehending. A moment later, the little dragon let out a faint trill before nuzzling into Florian's chest, curling up like a bundle of warmth.

The small gesture drew a soft laugh from Florian. He stroked Azure's smooth scales with his fingertips. "Alright, you win. Let's both have a nap, then."

He yawned, his eyelids already growing heavy, the exhaustion of the day seeping into his bones. For once, he tried not to fight it—tried not to let his mind wander back to the weight pressing on his heart.

'Don't think about the nightmare. Don't think about him.'

But the memory slipped through anyway—the nightmare of the original Florian, vivid and unshakable.

The image had haunted him since morning, and even now, as sleep tugged at him, it lingered like a shadow at the edge of his vision.

'Today's too important. I'm supposed to meet his family… the original Florian's family.'

His breath slowed as his body gave in to rest. Yet beneath the layers of weariness, another thought sparked—a quieter hope, one that steadied him even as he drifted into darkness.

Maybe… if I sleep, I'll get to see him again.

With that, Florian's eyes slipped shut, his hand still resting protectively over Azure, as the silence of the chamber deepened around them.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"What?"

Florian's eyes snapped open, a sharp inhale catching in his throat. His hand instinctively reached for Azure—but found nothing.

The warmth of the dragon, the comfort of the bed, the faint smell of polished wood—all of it was gone.

Instead, he was standing. Barefoot.

The air was different here. Thicker. Heavy with dust, familiar in a way that made his chest tighten. His gaze darted around, and his lips parted in disbelief.

"This is…"

His voice wavered. He took one unsteady step forward, the floor creaking faintly under his weight. His hand brushed the edge of a desk scarred with shallow carvings, initials and half-formed sketches etched into the wood.

"This is my… old room?"

Well, the original Florian's old room.

So… was this a memory?

Florian's steps echoed softly against the wooden floor as he moved forward, his chest tight with unease.

His eyes flicked over every detail—the familiar books stacked on the desk, the pale curtains trembling as though stirred by a nonexistent breeze, the faint sheen of dust that dulled the furniture. It feels too real to be just a dream…

He didn't have to search long. Just a few more steps in, and there he was.

The original Florian stood before the tall mirror at the far side of the room, his posture rigid, almost fragile. His pale reflection stared back at him, eyes dull and shadowed with something Florian couldn't name.

Florian froze, breath catching.

"Now what are you doing there?" he whispered, half-afraid, half-resigned. His words weren't meant to be heard, just a way to anchor himself against the sharp edge of déjà vu clawing at his chest.

'Please don't let this be another haunting memory...'

Step by step, he drew closer until he stopped just behind the original Florian. The mirror caught them both—two Florians, one solid, one spectral—but only his reflection acknowledged him.

The original's gaze never wavered, as if Florian wasn't even there.

"It's been so hard," the original murmured, voice low, heavy, weighted by something Florian couldn't carry. Slowly, he raised his hand and pressed it against his stomach.

The sheer fabric of his top lifted, sliding against pale skin.

Florian's eyes widened, the air in his lungs stalling.

There.

Beneath the hand. A small curve—a subtle swell that hadn't been there before. Not imagined. Not a trick of the light.

A bump.

The faintest trace of new life pressing outward, fragile but undeniable.

Florian's throat went dry. 'So it's one of those memories…'

One of the pregnancy memories.

His hands trembled at his sides as his gaze flickered between the original and the reflection.

The sorrow in those eyes wasn't just sadness—it was exhaustion, loneliness, something deeper that made Florian's heart twist painfully.

And yet, much to his surprise...the original Florian still smiled.

'Huh?'