Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 578

"How are you doing, Prince Florian?" she asked, her tone smooth as silk.

Elara's smile was gentle—refined, perfectly practiced, yet somehow still warm.

The porcelain cup she held barely made a sound as it touched the saucer again, her every movement deliberate and graceful.

Florian smiled politely in return.

There was something about Duke Elara—her composure, the way she carried herself—that reminded him of someone used to power.

Calm, unbothered, calculating beneath the courtesy.

"I'm doing well," he replied softly. "But really, I should be asking you, Duke Elara. You and your son were kept here unexpectedly. I imagine you must want to return to your duchy, especially with…"

He hesitated, his eyes dropping to his teacup.

The rogues.

The attacks. The unrest spreading across the kingdom like fire through dry fields.

Elara chuckled, breaking the tension. "Well, I cannot say I'm thrilled to be kept in the Diamond Palace," she admitted, her smile dipping with faint amusement. "But I understand the reasoning. Safety, of course."

She glanced at the window, where faint sunlight filtered through sheer curtains.

"Your servants have been nothing short of wonderful, though. That young Cashew especially—so diligent. To think someone so young could fill Delilah's shoes. I'm sure she would have been thrilled."

Her tone softened when she spoke the name, fondness laced with melancholy.

Florian's fingers tightened around his cup.

He remembered the stories—Anastasia, Delilah, and Elara, friends once upon a time. Before politics. Before betrayal.

"You were close, right?" Florian asked, his voice cautious. "His Majesty mentioned it briefly."

Elara hummed, studying him.

And then she saw it—the faint stiffness in his shoulders, the flicker of guilt he couldn't quite hide.

'He's blaming himself,' she thought.

"Don't worry, Prince Florian," she said finally, setting her cup down with a soft click. "No matter how close I was to her, I do not condone her actions. We were friends, yes—but her crimes were unforgivable, despite what she might have believed."

Then she chuckled—lightly, elegantly, but there was steel underneath. "Truthfully, she was a little too attached to the royal family. Despite marrying a noble, she chose to remain a servant. I would say she was… foolish."

Florian blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. He hadn't expected that from her—not from someone who spoke so fondly of Delilah seconds ago.

But perhaps that was Elara's strength. Pragmatic. Detached. Always seeing things for what they were, not what she wished them to be.

'So that's how she's survived this long,' he thought.

She had even supported Hendrix for the throne—over Heinz, the son of her supposed friend.

That said everything.

"You seem surprised, Your Highness," Elara said, tilting her head, her golden earrings catching the light. "Do you not agree?"

Florian forced a small smile, lowering his gaze.

"Ah, well…" he began, his voice softer now. "As much as I was… not too fond of Delilah, and she wasn't particularly fond of me either…"

"Mhm?" Elara prompted, curious.

"I do think that, in her own way, she was just looking out for His Majesty," Florian said, his tone turning wistful. "Really… it's a bit stupid."

He laughed under his breath, though there was no humor in it. "But we all have things we're passionate about. Whether it's people… or something else."

His words lingered in the air, the warmth of the tea fading between them.

Elara studied him closely, her expression unreadable, while Florian looked down into his cup, watching the reflection of his own face ripple in the surface.

For Delilah, it had been loyalty.

For Heinz, it had been revenge for who killed him, now it seems it was redemption for killing the original Florian.

And for him…

For Aden.

'It's going home.'

To his sister.

To his real life.

No matter what attachments he'd formed here, no matter what pain or longing pulled at him—his purpose hadn't changed.

He would get back to his world.

Even if it meant leaving everything—and everyone—behind.

And that—exactly that—was why Florian had agreed to meet with Duke Elara in the first place.

He needed to know her true intentions.

He cleared his throat, straightening slightly on his chair.

"But enough of that, Lady Elara," he began, his tone polite but edged with purpose. "I want… to be frank with you."

Elara's brows lifted, curiosity flickering across her features. "Oh?" she hummed, her lips curling into an amused little smile.

"I have many reasons to believe that you wanted to speak with me because of… the task, yes?" Florian asked carefully, his eyes steady on hers.

Her smile widened, elegant and knowing. "Yes," she said, nodding slowly. "That is correct."

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