Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 577

"What do you wish to talk about?" Heinz asked at last, his tone composed—polite, even—but there was an edge beneath the calm.

He had no reason to be openly hostile toward Asher. Not yet.Or maybe… he couldn't bring himself to be.

There was something about the man—the same sharpness in his eyes, the same bone structure—that made it impossible for Heinz to fully detach. Asher was older, colder, more refined in his manner, but every movement, every quiet flicker of irritation behind his mask reminded Heinz of him.

Of Florian.

And that alone was enough to keep Heinz's suspicions caged.

"I'm sure you already know, Your Majesty," Asher began, his tone polished, every word dipped in diplomacy. "You are, after all, a very intelligent man."

Heinz let out a slow exhale, a weary sigh that misted faintly in the cool air of the chamber. He turned away, walking toward the tall window behind his desk. Pale light spilled in, gilding the edge of his silhouette in gold.

"I assume," he said, "Queen Leticia and the Crown Princess are demanding to know why I did not give them the same message as the other royal families."

"Indeed."

Heinz didn't need to look to know Asher was smirking again. That same quiet, infuriating confidence lingered in his voice as he continued.

"Not only that," Asher added, "they're considering convincing the other monarchs that something is… amiss here." He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing leisurely. "They still believe the events that transpired were orchestrated. And the fact that you have yet to provide any concrete information about the attackers only deepens their suspicions."

Heinz's expression didn't change, though his eyes darkened slightly."That's because there is no information," he said flatly.

Asher hummed, feigning thought. "If you were in our position, would you believe that?"

Heinz stared out the window for a long, quiet moment."…No," he admitted.

"Right—"

"Then…" Heinz turned around. Slowly.

The motion was deliberate, sharp enough to slice through Asher's composure. The Floramatria king froze mid-sentence, that faint smile still painted across his face—artificial, unwavering, infuriating.

"Why do you trust me, then?" Heinz asked quietly, his tone low but heavy with implication.

Asher blinked, his expression unreadable.

Heinz took a step forward, his voice dropping even lower, quieter, but sharper than any threat. "How are you so certain I have good intentions, King Asher?"

His gaze hardened, his black eyes gleaming faintly in the light."Or…" he said, narrowing his eyes, "do you not care at all—as long as Florian doesn't return?"

Silence.

The air between them grew thick.

For a moment, neither man spoke.

"The last time we spoke," Heinz began, his tone cool but deliberate, "you kept referring to Florian as 'that boy.' You spoke as though you never wanted him back in your kingdom."

Asher didn't flinch—but his smile tightened, almost imperceptibly.

"As I've said," he replied smoothly, "my queen and my darling daughter favor him too much—"

"It's not just that."

Heinz's voice cut through the air. He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied the man before him. "You seem to really dislike Florian."

For the first time, Asher's mask slipped. His eyes widened—a flicker of genuine surprise breaking through his practiced calm. But it lasted only a second.

He took a slow breath, composed himself, and smiled again.

"What I feel for that boy—for Florian—does not matter." His tone was quiet but sharp, as though daring Heinz to keep prying. "Do you not want him here anymore, Your Majesty?"

Heinz's expression didn't change.

But his heart did.

It lurched in his chest, a steady beat thrown off rhythm by the question.

"You're in love with him, no?" Asher pressed, his words calm, almost taunting.

"Yes," Heinz said simply.

The admission came without hesitation. Without shame.It hung in the air like the toll of a distant bell.

Asher blinked once. Twice. Then, he chuckled lightly—empty and disbelieving. "Then it doesn't matter what my intentions are," he said. "What matters is what you want, Your Majesty. And what you're willing to do to avoid war."

Heinz exhaled slowly through his nose, his fingers curling against his palm.

He wanted to keep pressing—wanted to drag out the truth buried behind Asher's words.

He wanted to know how this man could sound so indifferent when speaking about his son.

He wanted to ask if he had ever hurt Florian, or if the years of cold silence had done that all on their own.

But Asher was right.

Heinz couldn't risk it. Not now.

And more importantly… he didn't want Florian to return to Floramatria.

Not to a father who called him "that boy."

Not to a home that treated him like a burden.

Especially not when this Florian wasn't even the same one Asher had abandoned.

Heinz raked a hand through his hair, exhaling softly."What do you propose I should do, then?"

Asher's smirk returned, faint but knowing. "Well," he began, walking closer to the window where Heinz stood moments ago, "it would help if the boy himself said he wanted to stay here. Officially."

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