Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 112

Chapter 112: ’Saved By The Butler’

"There you fucking are!"

The words erupted from Florian’s lips, unfiltered and sharp, his frustration slicing through the air. Politeness be damned—he didn’t care about decorum. Not when he had been moments away from slugging this arrogant creep who acted like boundaries didn’t apply to him.

Lucius’s entrance was as commanding as a cold wind cutting through the stagnant heat of the room. His bright yellow eyes locked onto the man still gripping Florian’s arm. His gaze was frigid and unyielding, an unspoken challenge that froze the space around him. Every step he took was measured, deliberate, each movement exuding a quiet authority that demanded respect—or fear.

"Lucius!" The man—Andrew Flameheart—immediately let go of Florian, retreating a step as if Lucius’s presence alone burned him.

Florian blinked, catching his breath as realization settled in. ’Wait... Flameheart? Isn’t Lancelot’s last name Flameheart?’ He shifted his gaze, scrutinizing Andrew, whose smirk hadn’t faded but now seemed more strained. Recognition clicked, but not in a way Florian appreciated.

"It’s been awhile," Andrew said, his grin widening into something uncomfortably familiar. He straightened his jacket, feigning casualness. "How’s life as the king’s personal butler? And what’s with this formal ’Lord Flameheart’ act? Don’t pretend we’re not both future dukes."

’Oh... so this is one of Lancelot’s brothers,’ Florian thought, his lips pressing together tightly. The resemblance was uncanny, though Andrew seemed like a warped, more arrogant version of the knight Florian already found infuriating.

Lucius didn’t flinch, his voice cold as winter steel. "Why were you touching His Highness inappropriately, Andrew?"

Andrew scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "What’s the big deal? Word has it this little prince is nothing more than the palace’s lapdog—a stray his majesty barely tolerates. I just wanted my fill."

Florian’s chest burned with a mixture of humiliation and fury. His pride wouldn’t allow Lucius—or anyone else—to fight his battles for him. "Your information is outdated," Florian interjected sharply, his voice steady despite the storm raging within him. He stepped closer to Lucius, his chin held high, his every movement daring Andrew to belittle him further.

Andrew raised an eyebrow, his grin turning mocking. "Outdated, is it?"

"Yes," Florian snapped, his tone cutting. "I’ve realized the error of my ways, and even if I was a bit... carefree, that doesn’t give you the right to touch me—or anyone else—without consent."

Andrew’s laugh was low and cruel, his gaze sweeping over Florian with open derision. "With a body like that? You must be joking."

Lucius moved to speak, but Florian raised a hand, silencing him. The action was calm but resolute, his anger boiling just below the surface. Florian smiled then, a sharp, predatory thing. It wasn’t warm—it was the kind of smile that warned of trouble. _{ƒгeewёbnovel.com}

"Why don’t we take this conversation to His Majesty?" Florian said smoothly, his tone light but laced with steel. He took a single step forward, his eyes locked on Andrew’s.

Andrew blinked, momentarily stunned. "His Majesty?" he repeated, as if the idea were absurd.

"Yes," Florian continued, his confidence unwavering. "Let’s tell him what you did, what you said, everything. And if he doesn’t care—fine. You can pick up where you left off. But if he does..." He let the threat hang in the air, his gaze unwavering. "Do you really want to test the king’s temper?"

The room fell silent. Florian’s heart pounded in his chest, but he refused to back down. He didn’t truly believe Heinz would care—the king had turned a blind eye to worse in the novel. But Andrew didn’t know that.

What a sore loser, Florian thought, placing a hand on his hip. He watched Andrew’s retreating figure with a mixture of relief and disdain. "What’s he even doing here? I thought nobles couldn’t just waltz in anymore."