Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 44

Chapter 44: ’This is the worst’

Florian was reluctantly dragged out of bed by Lucius, his protests falling on deaf ears. Despite still being in shock that the red-haired princess—who, by all appearances, seemed to lack even a modicum of wit—had managed to outsmart him, he had no choice but to plan how he’d approach each princess during lunch.

"Remember, Your Highness," Lucius began, adjusting his gloves as he spoke. "Use their likes and dislikes to your advantage."

"And if it doesn’t work?" Florian asked, his voice tinged with annoyance and a hint of desperation.

Lucius cast a glance at Cashew, who was standing nearby, an apologetic expression plastered across his face. Without a word, Cashew pointed to the freshly washed maid outfit hanging by the wardrobe. Florian followed his gaze, and his eyes widened in horror.

"If it doesn’t work, it’s back to being Kaz the maid," Lucius said, his tone a perfect blend of amusement and seriousness.

’God, why? I’m sorry for naming my maid self after my sister! You don’t have to punish me by making me act like a maid again!’ Florian lamented silently, already on the verge of sulking again. But before he could dive into his pity party, he froze as a hand gently touched his cheek.

Florian jumped, startled, and turned to find Lucius standing alarmingly close, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What are you doing?" Florian asked, his voice cracking slightly in embarrassment. ’Isn’t he being a little too comfortable?!’

"Hm?" Lucius tilted his head, feigning innocence. "I’m simply fixing your hair, Your Highness. Keep in mind, physical appearance plays a key role in leaving a good impression."

Florian narrowed his eyes at him, clearly unconvinced. ’My BL senses are tingling, and I don’t like it.’

It didn’t take long for Florian to realize where he had gone wrong. He had committed the cardinal sin of transmigration—the one thing that made every romantic subplot inevitable.

He had shown Lucius kindness.

His naturally soft heart hadn’t allowed him to ignore the butler’s pain, especially after what he learned of Lucius’s trauma. And now? ’He’s about to give me trauma by continuing this eerily romantic scene!’

Florian jerked his head away and stepped back, putting distance between them. "First of all, that advice only applies to first impressions. I’ve already met them multiple times. I’m trying to change their impression of me, not create one."

"Still the same principle, Your Highness," Lucius said coolly, clearly enjoying the banter.

"It really isn’t," Florian shot back.

"It really is."

’Is he... is he actually being childish right now?’ Florian thought incredulously, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned to Cashew, who was watching the exchange with an amused curiosity. "It’s not the same, right, Cashew?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow and turned his attention to the young servant. "It is the same, isn’t it, Cashew?"

Cashew’s eyes darted nervously between the two, but loyalty was never in question. "It... It isn’t, Your Highness," he finally stammered, earning a victorious smile and a thumbs-up from Florian.

Lucius sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes as he adjusted his glasses. "Very well then. Let’s not waste any more time. Lunch is approaching, and you need to be ready. Cashew, stay here in case I need you to bring the maid outfit for His Highness."

"O-Okay, Lord Lucius," Cashew replied, shooting Florian a sympathetic look.

"I am not wearing that thing again," Florian grumbled as he grabbed his coat, preparing to leave.

Lucius chuckled softly, the sound low and almost teasing. "Then you’d best hope the princesses don’t ignore you today, Your Highness."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"I can’t believe they all ignored me!" Florian groaned, sprawled dramatically on the floor. He refused to look up, though he could feel the weight of Cashew’s sympathetic gaze—and the sight of that maid outfit held up like a threat.

Cashew, ever the loyal servant, offered a cautious smile. "W-What happened, Your Highness?" he asked, his curiosity tinged with genuine concern.

Lucius stood next to Cashew, arms crossed, his lips twitching as he struggled to suppress a laugh. The sight of Florian reduced to such a pitiful state was, in its own way, amusing to him.

Florian finally looked up at Cashew, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as the memories of lunch came flooding back. Each failed interaction replayed itself in vivid, excruciating detail. ’It was a disaster... no, a tragedy!’

Athena.

Florian had spotted Athena sitting quietly at the far end of the dining table, her head bent low over a book as she absentmindedly picked at her food. ’Athena’s the quiet one. If I approach her calmly and talk about something she likes, she won’t reject me outright. Right?’

With his best attempt at a charming smile, Florian approached. "Lady Athena," he began, his tone as light as possible, "I couldn’t help but notice you’re reading. May I ask what’s caught your interest?"

Athena didn’t look up. She didn’t even flinch. Her fork moved mechanically, spearing a piece of vegetable without any acknowledgement of his existence.

"Uh..." Florian cleared his throat, his confidence faltering. "I’ve been trying to get into more novels myself lately. Maybe you could recommend—"

Before he could finish, Athena stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. She closed her book with a soft thud and walked away without a word.

Florian stood there, dumbfounded. Several of the other princesses had looked over at the sound of Athena’s departure, but none of them met his eyes.

"She... left?" Cashew’s eyes widened in disbelief, his concern growing as he pieced together Florian’s recounting of events. Florian nodded grimly, his lips pressing into a thin line. Meanwhile, Lucius had his back turned to them, his shoulders visibly shaking.

’Oh, great. He’s laughing again,’ Florian thought sourly, glaring daggers at Lucius’s back.

"W-What happened next, Your Highness?" Cashew asked hesitantly, clutching the maid outfit tightly like it might shield him from the rising tension in the room.

Florian sighed, his gaze falling to the floor. "I tried speaking with Alexandria," he admitted, the memory still fresh—and painful.

Determined to claw back even a shred of dignity, Florian had turned his attention to Alexandria. ’She’s kind. She won’t just walk away... at least, I hope not.’

Approaching her with all the poise he could muster, he found her seated gracefully at the table, her posture impeccable and her hands folded neatly in her lap. She radiated an air of serene authority, which, unfortunately for Florian, only made his nerves worse.

"Princess Alexandria," he began, his tone carefully measured, "I couldn’t help but admire your devotion to the gods. It’s truly inspiring. I was hoping we could discuss your insights—I’ve been reflecting on spiritual matters myself lately."

Alexandria turned her gaze toward him, her blue eyes calm and unreadable. For a fleeting moment, Florian thought he saw a glimmer of interest. But then her serene expression softened into something distant.

"That’s thoughtful of you, Prince Florian," she said softly, her voice gentle but firm, "but I prefer to keep my spiritual journey private. It’s a deeply personal matter."

Her words were perfectly polite, yet they carried the unmistakable weight of dismissal. Before Florian could even stammer out a reply, Alexandria turned her attention back to her meal, her body language signaling the conversation was over.

’Okay, deep breaths. I just need one success. Just one.’

Desperate for a win, Florian set his sights on Bridget. She was chatting animatedly with a maid, her boisterous laughter ringing through the hall. Bridget was cheerful, loud, and approachable—surely she wouldn’t shut him down like the others.

Summoning the remnants of his courage, Florian stepped into her line of sight. "Princess Bridget," he began, offering what he hoped was a charming smile, "I overheard you talking about constellations. I’ve always found the stars fascinating—perhaps you could share your thoughts?"

Bridget blinked at him, her expression unreadable for a brief moment. Then she lit up with a wide, enthusiastic grin.

"Oh, how wonderful! I’d love to discuss the stars."

For a fleeting second, Florian’s heart soared. ’Finally! Someone who’s willing to talk!’ But that glimmer of hope was crushed the moment Bridget’s grin turned sly.

"So, tell me, Your Highness," she said, her voice brimming with excitement, "what’s your favorite star cluster? Or do you prefer studying planetary alignments? What’s your take on the historical accuracy of modern constellation myths? Oh! And have you studied ancient stargazing techniques?"

Florian’s brain short-circuited. His mouth opened and closed uselessly as he scrambled for an answer. "Uh... well... I..."

Bridget tilted her head, her bright smile sharpening into something far more mischievous. "Oh no," she gasped theatrically. "Don’t tell me—you don’t actually know anything about constellations, do you?"

Florian’s face turned crimson, his embarrassment only amplified by the muffled giggles of the maids standing nearby. "N-No, I do!" he protested weakly, but his stammering only made Bridget laugh harder.

"Nice try, Prince Florian," she said, waving him off with a chuckle. "Next time, maybe pick a topic you actually know something about."

As she returned to her conversation, Florian stood there, frozen in humiliation.

"S-Shut up, Lucius! You’re not helping at all!" Florian stammered, his hands flying up to cover his face. His ears burned with humiliation, his voice practically a squeak.

’This is the worst,’ he thought, wishing he could sink into the floor and disappear.

Florian sighed, his hands slowly dropping from his face. He wanted to praise Cashew for his effort, for trying to steer the conversation into safer waters. Really, he did. But all he could think about was the absolute disaster that had unfolded.

"They nailed the coffin on me," he muttered, his voice heavy with defeat.