Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 315: ’All Eyes On Heinz’

"I would have to agree with Lord Cedric," Elara said gently, her expression grave, brows slightly drawn in concern. "I’ve received a number of... troubling complaints. Not just from the villagers themselves, but from nobles under my jurisdiction as well—about rogue behavior in settlements where suffering is at its peak."

Her voice was calm, sincere. Not sharp like Cedric’s, not calculated. There was no edge of accusation in her tone—only weariness. Her worry was palpable, and it made the conversation heavier, not crueler.

She wasn’t trying to corner Heinz. That much was clear. She simply wanted to speak, to finally bring to light what had clearly been gnawing at her conscience.

Elara, after all, was well-known—even admired—for her relentless dedication to the people. Among all the dukes, she was the one who never hesitated to get her hands dirty. Always first to respond to disaster. Always the voice of the voiceless.

The weight of her concern made the room quieter.

"The crime rate has risen throughout the kingdom," said Eleonor, Elara’s eldest son. He looked up from his wineglass, eyes narrowing slightly with thought. "But more specifically, the spike began a few months ago. Just this year."

He took a slow sip, and his words hung in the air like mist that refused to clear.

All eyes turned—again—to Heinz.

The princesses fidgeted in their seats, glancing between each other nervously. No one said a word. The quiet had become sharp-edged now, not soft.

Heinz didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He simply stared at the dukes, his red eyes unreadable, lips pressed in a line of calm silence.

’Why isn’t he saying anything?’ Florian thought, his pulse quickening. ’Did he not expect the dukes to do this?’

No. That didn’t make sense. Heinz always expected everything. He planned for everything. He was the type who could predict the fall of a leaf in a storm.

Which meant... this silence was intentional.

’He’s waiting,’ Florian realized. ’But for what?’

Alaric, ever blunt and unrefined, crossed his arms, clearly irritated. Florian could almost hear the scoff building in his throat. Lucas, seated beside him, shot him a look—sharp, warning.

"What?" Alaric muttered under his breath, low but not low enough. Lucas cleared his throat in an attempt to redirect.

"The problems on our side mirror yours," Lucas began, his voice calm but firm. "I’m sure you’ve all heard about the Village of Forgotten Waters... one of the cursed settlements in our territory."

Florian’s breath hitched slightly.

Lucas continued. "It was recently burned to the ground. At first, we believed it was a freak accident. But then we investigated the remains... and we found human bones in what used to be a storage unit. Scorched. Torn. It’s suspected that the villagers resorted to cannibalism before the fire."

A hush fell. Even the quiet had sound.

Florian stiffened.

His fingers twitched at the mention of that village.

Because he knew the truth.

The village had burned... because of Azure.

And Azure had burned it... because Florian had been too soft.

He and Heinz were the only ones who really knew what happened. The only ones who’d witnessed the consequences with their own eyes. The screams. The panic. The flames swallowing everything. The decision they’d had to make—end it quickly or let it spiral into something worse.

That village was the reason they were even doing this now. The reason Florian had drafted that proposal. The reason Heinz had stepped in with him.

And now it was being brought up like a footnote to a larger tragedy, its horrors stretched out for everyone to see.

’They’re really laying it all out now.’ Florian swallowed hard. ’Every burden. Every wound. I get it—I really do. But this... this isn’t the place for it.’

Not during a diplomatic tea. Not when everyone’s masks were still barely on.

And Heinz still wasn’t speaking.

But Florian didn’t panic.

Because this time, it was his turn.

Heinz had pulled him from disaster twice. Shielded him when the others wanted blood. Held back the wolves with nothing but words.

Now, Florian would be the one to step forward.

Not as a prince desperate to survive. freёnovelkiss.com

But as a man ready to act.

He straightened in his seat, quietly drawing a breath into his lungs.

He could feel the gazes. The anticipation. The discomfort.

He welcomed it.

’Time to make the king grateful for me,’ he thought with steady resolve, lifting his chin.

And then, he spoke.

"I understand your concerns, my lords," Florian began, voice steady—though it took everything in him to keep it that way. "And His Majesty has recently been made aware of the issues plaguing the kingdom... especially the worsening state of the villages. I know..."

He hesitated, just for a moment. The next words had to be chosen very carefully. One wrong phrase and it would sound like he was criticizing Heinz. And despite everything, he couldn’t afford that. Not now. Not in front of everyone.

"...I know there has been trouble with communication over the years."

He tried to sound neutral. Non-accusatory. Diplomatic.

But Alexandrius scoffed. "Trouble? Try him not even responding—or bothering to read a single letter we sent—"

Florian raised a hand.

"With all due respect, Duke Flameheart," he said, tone polite but unmistakably firm, "I was speaking."

The entire dining hall stilled. A breathless pause.

Even chairs seemed to stop creaking.

Andrew chuckled under his breath, clearly amused. Lucius and Lancelot blinked in surprise, exchanging a look. And Heinz—Heinz actually looked mildly surprised, his brows lifting ever so slightly.

Florian swallowed, trying not to show how fast his heart was racing. His hands trembled under the table, hidden by the long sleeves of his robe. He pressed his fingers into his palm, grounding himself.

’Don’t let them see you shake. Don’t let them hear it in your voice.’

"I’m sure you’re all aware of why His Majesty distanced himself from the dukedoms," he said, his eyes meeting each of theirs—one by one. A quiet challenge. "Why communication was... severed."

He didn’t elaborate.

He didn’t need to.

Because everyone in that room already knew.

It was no secret that nearly every duke once wanted Prince Hendrix—Heinz’s younger half-brother—to ascend the throne. Not Heinz.

Florian had taken a gamble by bringing it up.

But the payoff was immediate.

Even the ever-defiant Alexandrius went silent. Alaric, who always had something to say, didn’t move a muscle. And Cedric... Cedric narrowed his eyes, but didn’t interrupt.

Every pair of eyes slowly shifted to Heinz, waiting.

Waiting to see if the king would snap, or correct Florian, or lash out for daring to speak of the elephant in the room.

But Heinz only smiled.

And not just any smile—a small, amused one. Directed solely at Florian.

"Florian is right," Heinz said easily, lifting his teacup as if they were simply chatting over breakfast. "We’ve all had... different allegiances. There’s been tension. And yes—I’ll admit—I distrusted the dukedoms. Deeply."

He set the cup down gently.

"But... I came to realize, with Florian’s help, that my distrust was rooted in my own pettiness. My pride."

Florian stared at him.

’Damn. Did he really just say that?’ he thought, stunned.

But it made sense. Heinz wasn’t doing this for pride. He needed the dukes on his side to repair the villages, to stop the savior faction from gaining more ground. And the first step to that... was owning up.

Elara gave a small, genuine smile. "That is right."

Roland cleared his throat, nodding as he turned to the table. "Let us not forget—the purpose of this summit is to address the state of our kingdom and the suffering of our people. But tonight... tonight is for peace. For conversation. Let us discuss the serious matters when we reconvene tomorrow."

"I agree," said Rodrick, Roland’s son, his voice calm.

"I agree as well!" Nividea beamed, raising her glass of juice with both hands. Her twin brother Nevideus gave a small nod of approval.

Florian allowed himself to breathe again.

The atmosphere had shifted. The tension slowly drained from the air like smoke curling out a window. Even Alaric and Alexandrius, who looked like they’d lost their chance to strike, had quieted.

Cedric, however, gave Florian a sharp smile.

"I must say," he said slowly, raising his glass toward Florian. "You’re very well-spoken. Despite being a foreign prince, you seem to know exactly what you’re doing. Very interesting, Your Highness."

Florian returned the gesture with a polite nod, forcing a smile onto his lips.

’What are you up to now? You seemed so good earlier...’

"I’m very grateful, Your Grace."

Heinz, without missing a beat, added, "He’s my representative for a reason."

He sipped his tea calmly, but there was something behind his eyes—something that made it feel like Florian had passed a test he didn’t know he was taking.

"It makes me look forward to his presentation tomorrow," Eleonor said thoughtfully.

Florian blinked. He hadn’t expected the heirs to be in attendance.

"I’ll be sure not to disappoint," he replied, tone polite but confident.

And for a moment, just a moment, silence settled across the table. Not the heavy kind from earlier—but a comfortable, gentle hush. The worst had passed. For now.

Florian let himself feel it—the flicker of pride. Of relief. He had helped Heinz. Defused the room. Asserted himself.

Even Heinz looked pleased with him.

But the feeling didn’t last long.

Because that peace shattered with a single, grating sound.

Andrew cleared his throat.

’Ugh. What does this creep want now?’ Florian thought, suppressing a groan.