Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 572

"When the serpent of fire meets the mirror of sorrow, thou shalt stand at the edge of two fates: one of ruin, one of release."

Florian murmured the words under his breath, his voice barely more than a whisper in the stillness. The syllables lingered like smoke, curling and fading into the air.

Above him, his butterflies drifted lazily through the dim light—soft, blue glimmers in the dark. They fluttered around the chandelier, wings catching faint moonlight seeping through the tall windows. Beautiful. Innocent. Unaware.

They looked so peaceful.

So clueless to the storm clawing at their master's chest.

Florian lay sprawled across the silken sheets of his bed—the bed that once belonged to the late queen. Even the thought of that felt strange.

Wrong.

Everything about this new room felt foreign: the faint scent of lilac perfume that still clung to the walls, the heavy curtains that kept the world outside at bay, the golden mirror across from him that reflected a man he barely recognized.

He was supposed to feel safe here. But he didn't.

He couldn't.

He stared up at the canopy, eyes tracing the patterns in the fabric. His thoughts wouldn't stop. Wouldn't quiet down.

'When the serpent of fire meets the mirror of sorrow…'

The words replayed again and again in his mind—the voice, distorted and divine, echoing as if still lodged somewhere deep inside his skull.

He could still feel the chill of the air in that room. The way the candles flickered. The way Serapion's voice had layered and multiplied until it was no longer human.

'A soul once quenched by royal flame shall awaken beneath the same sun…'

Florian exhaled shakily, pressing a hand against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat felt uneven. His stomach turned.

He only heard the message once, but like all divine prophecies, it branded itself into his memory—etched there, unshakable.

And though he didn't understand it fully, one part was clear.

The Gods were giving him a choice.

A fate of ruin.

A fate of release.

He didn't know what the "serpent of fire" or "mirror of sorrow" meant.

Maybe it was Azure—the dragon.

Or maybe it was the red one that had appeared last night.

Both breathed fire. Both were symbols of destruction. Maybe the "mirror" was himself.

Maybe it was Heinz.

None of it made perfect sense. But the ending did.

"Shouldst thou remain by the flame that ended thee, thy breath shall wither in its warmth anew…"

He shut his eyes tight. The meaning was clear enough.

If he stayed with Heinz, he would die.

Again.

Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow.

But the Gods had made it clear—they would never let him live peacefully beside the man who killed him once before.

And yet—

He felt the ache again. That unbearable, unrelenting ache.

Because the choice was obvious, wasn't it?

He had no intention of dying again.

He couldn't let this body die.

He couldn't let Florian's life be wasted too.

He already knew what he had to do.

He had to leave Heinz's side.

But God… why did it hurt so much to think about it?

He turned his head toward the window. The moonlight spilled over him, pale and cold, outlining the sharpness of his cheekbones, the tired curve of his mouth.

He could almost see Heinz in the reflection of the glass—his red eyes, his calm voice, his touch that always lingered too long.

Florian's throat tightened.

'He'll never be forgiven.'

That part of the prophecy echoed next, like a whisper pressed against his ear.

The Gods had made their judgment. Heinz's fate was sealed unless he faced his own trials—or died.

Florian sat up slowly, resting his arms on his knees, his fingers curling tightly around the sheets.

'No light shall touch him…'

Maybe that was the punishment.

Maybe that was why Heinz's presence always felt heavy—why every happiness with him came with fear, why every touch came with guilt.

It was all cursed. All of it.

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