Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 568

"Your Majesty."

Lancelot was the first to react, straightening immediately as Heinz entered the corridor. The other knights followed suit in perfect sync, their armor clinking softly as they bowed.

"Your Majesty."

"Good to see you well, Your Majesty."

Their voices overlapped, respectful—but Heinz could feel the tension beneath the formalities.

The faint unease that always followed him now, like a shadow that had learned to bow too.

He raised a hand slightly, a wordless gesture for them to stand at ease. His gaze found Lancelot's across the room, steady but heavy—too heavy.

And then that feeling twisted in his chest again.

That memory.

'So it was them. They kept his body. They sewed his head back on… because they couldn't stand to let him be burned.'

He should have been furious.

By all logic, he should have been.

They had defied his order—a direct command from their king.

But he wasn't.

He couldn't be.

'Why should I be angry for them doing what I couldn't?'

The thought cut deeper than he expected. The truth was simpler.

He wasn't angry at them.

He was jealous.

Jealous of Lucius—who dared to defy him for love.

Jealous of Lancelot—who had stayed by Florian's side even in death.

Two men bound by loyalty, by compassion, who had done what Heinz—King Heinz—had failed to do.

And that realization made his chest tighten even more.

It never used to bother him. He was always above such emotions—envy, longing, sentiment. They belonged to weaker men.

But after learning the truth… after remembering the first life, after realizing how deep his sins went…

He didn't feel like a king anymore. He didn't feel like anything worthy of the title.

'I don't even have the right to be angry… not then, not now.'

"Your Majesty?"

Lancelot's voice broke through the fog in his mind. Heinz blinked, realizing he'd been standing still far too long.

Lancelot had stepped closer, concern flickering behind his orange eyes. "Are you feeling alright? You seem to be… spacing out."

Heinz turned to him briefly, his expression unreadable. Then, without answering the question, he turned away—his steps steady as he walked toward the heavy double doors of his office.

"I am fine," he said finally, his tone clipped and cool. His hand gripped the brass handle, the motion deliberate, restrained. "Now—let's discuss what you needed to discuss. You said it was urgent?"

He pushed the door open, the sound echoing faintly through the hall.

Lancelot hesitated before following, something uneasy crossing his face. The other knights exchanged quiet, uncertain looks.

Heinz was calm—too calm.

The kind of calm that came after a storm, when the wind had already stripped everything bare.

Lancelot had seen the king angry before, even cruel—but never like this.

Never so cold.

Still, duty overrode hesitation.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Lancelot said, stepping forward.

Heinz didn't look at him as they entered the office. His gaze was distant—haunted but composed—as one of Lancelot's knights closed the door behind them with a quiet click.

Once everyone had gathered, the room fell into a heavy silence.

The great oak doors of the royal office closed behind the last knight with a muted thud, sealing them in with the soft crackle of the fireplace and the faint rustle of armor.

Heinz sat behind his desk, posture straight but weary, both hands resting flat on the dark wood.

The candlelight painted harsh shadows across his face, tracing the exhaustion beneath his eyes.

Lancelot stood before him, a step ahead of the line of knights, hands clasped neatly behind his back in disciplined restraint.

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