Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 372

Chapter 372: ’Unspoken Forgiveness.’

"Your Highness."

Lucius blinked in surprise, his brows lifting slightly at the sight of Florian. "What are you doing back here again?"

Florian, admittedly, hadn’t expected to see him still here either. But then again, it made sense. After what happened to the last suspect—the one left unsupervised who ended up dead before any real answers could be pried from them—they were likely being more cautious now.

Still, it caught him off guard.

’Of course he’s here... they can’t afford to lose another lead.’

And perhaps, in some small, begrudging way, Florian was relieved. Lucius being here meant he could help verify whether Delilah was lying.

He could detect the subtle shifts, the microexpressions, the emotional inconsistencies Florian wouldn’t pick up on his own.

But even so, Florian couldn’t help the awkwardness twisting in his stomach. The last time they spoke, things had... not ended well. Neither of them had truly apologized. The tension still hung there, like smoke from a fire that never quite went out.

"His Majesty has permitted me to speak with Delilah," Florian began, but hesitated mid-sentence. "We’re..."

Wait.

A sudden, sharp realization hit him. He hadn’t actually asked Heinz if he was allowed to share that they no longer suspected Delilah outright. Only that they believed she knew who the real culprit was.

"Uh."

He froze.

’Crap.’

Lying was never Florian’s strong suit. Not because he lacked the will—but because Lucius could see through him like glass. Even the idea of lying in front of him felt like standing on the edge of a blade.

Florian’s eyes darted around the dim stone corridor, wondering if he should just go back and ask Heinz for permission. But gods, it was such a hassle.

Without a mana ring or teleportation glyph like Heinz or Lucius had access to, getting to the royal wing meant trekking across half the palace. Through long, twisting halls. Stairs. Guards. More stairs.

And Florian was already tired. His breathing was uneven, shoulders rising and falling with each inhale.

’Maybe I can ask Lucius to teleport me there? But then... he’d know something was off.’

No, that wouldn’t work.

He had no choice. He’d just have to get back the hard way— freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

But then.

Lucius let out a small sigh. "You may do whatever you need to do," he said, his tone unreadable as he turned and began walking deeper into the dungeon. "I’m sure you wouldn’t act without His Majesty’s permission."

Florian blinked. Once. Twice.

’That... was new.’

No suspicion. No interrogation. Just quiet trust.

Or maybe resignation.

He trailed behind Lucius, the cold air of the dungeon brushing against his skin like a whisper. The walls were damp and the torches crackled faintly. A heaviness settled in the air as they moved forward.

"Lucius," Florian asked, his voice echoing softly in the corridor, "where are Lancelot and the knights?"

"They’re rallying up the palace staff," Lucius replied without looking back. "Informing everyone of Lady Delilah’s crimes and the punishment she’s due. They’re also... informing Drizelous."

Florian stopped walking.

His eyes widened as the weight of that statement sank in.

Right. Drizelous.

He hadn’t even considered how this would affect him. For all his coldness, for all the distance between them, Florian had always sensed something lingering beneath Drizelous’s quiet demeanor when it came to his mother.

’He’s going to be furious... no, devastated. He might even try to stop it.’ Florian frowned. ’Even if their relationship was strained... he still loves her. Deep down.’

He felt Lucius’s gaze flick toward him, briefly, perhaps curious about the sudden change in his posture—but to his credit, Lucius said nothing.

He gave Florian space.

And strangely, Florian appreciated it.

He wasn’t angry at Lucius anymore. At least... not right now. But he still didn’t know how to approach him. How to start again. The gap between them, once filled with quiet understanding, now felt awkward and brittle.

So when he finally spoke, his voice was unsure.

"I... need you to do something for me, Lucius."

Lucius didn’t stop walking. "What is it?"

"I need you to see if Delilah is lying to me," Florian said, his eyes dropping to the ground. "I’ll be speaking with her alone. Please note down any emotions she’s experiencing throughout the conversation. But it’s important that you stay far enough away that you can’t hear what we’re saying."

A moment of silence followed.

Florian didn’t look up. He could already imagine the questions forming in Lucius’s mind. Why? What aren’t you telling me? What are you planning to do?

’Was it always this easy to ask him for something?’

’Is it guilt?’ Florian wondered. ’Because of our argument? Or... because of what Heinz said?’

Just far enough that the shadows swallowed him slightly, and he could no longer hear—but not so far that he couldn’t see. He was still watching. Always watching.

’Not for me... but for my safety. Or maybe because he still doesn’t trust her. Or maybe... both.’

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