Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 5

Chapter 5: 'A Provocative Outfit, An Obsidian Door.'

"Hold on... isn't this a bit..."

Aden stepped out of his room, the ornate purple door clicking shut behind him. The polished marble floor gleamed underfoot, catching the soft glow of enchanted lanterns that lined the hallway. He paused mid-step, his eyes landing on the butler standing just ahead, his posture as poised and immaculate as ever.

'Provocative.'

Heat surged to Aden's face as he noticed the faintest flicker of surprise in the butler's golden eyes. Though the man's expression remained neutral, Aden could swear he saw the butler's gaze linger—just a second too long—on his attire.

'He's definitely judging me.'

Aden tugged at the edge of his sleeve in a futile attempt to cover himself, but it was no use. The backless tunic and stomach cutout left little to the imagination, and every detail of the outfit—from the shimmering gold embroidery to the barely-there fabric—seemed designed to make him the center of attention.

'I feel like a hooker.'

Behind him, the soft shuffle of Cashew's footsteps broke the awkward silence. Aden turned slightly, catching the boy's shy, almost apologetic smile. Cashew, in his modest violet tunic and simple trousers, looked perfectly normal—functional, even.

'Why couldn't I wear something like that?' Aden thought bitterly. Or better yet, the butler's crisp, tailored uniform. Anything would have been better than this... thing.

Aden swallowed hard, brushing his fingers against the intricate lace that draped from his sleeves. Every element of the ensemble felt deliberately over the top. The shimmering embroidery caught the light with every step, the delicate beading drew attention to his movements, and the sheer, clinging fabric left him hyperaware of every breeze.

His exposed back prickled against the cool air, and the stomach cutout made him want to curl into himself.

The butler cleared his throat delicately, pulling Aden from his spiraling thoughts. "Your Highness," he began, his voice steady and professional, though Aden thought he caught the faintest hesitation, "shall I escort you to the hall?"

'Do I have a choice?' Aden resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he nodded stiffly, squaring his shoulders in an attempt to appear more composed. "Yes. Let's go," he said, though his voice lacked the authority one might expect from a prince.

The butler inclined his head in a small bow before turning to lead the way. His movements were graceful and deliberate, the epitome of practiced elegance.

As Aden followed, he caught Cashew's encouraging smile again from the corner of his eye. It wasn't mocking or judgmental—if anything, it was almost... supportive. The boy's expression seemed to say that this attire was perfectly normal. At least, normal for whoever Aden was supposed to be.

'This is just how it is,' Aden thought. It didn't make him feel any better.

Trailing behind the butler, Aden couldn't shake the weight of his embarrassment. Every step felt like a parade, the ridiculous outfit ensuring he'd draw every gaze in the palace.

Still, one thought kept circling in his mind, impossible to ignore.

'What kind of prince wears something like this?'

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For the ten minutes Aden walked behind the butler, who led him through the labyrinthine halls of the palace, he quietly observed and learned a few things.

First, the butler's name was Lucius. Aden only found this out because several maids and knights they passed greeted Lucius with utmost respect, bowing or murmuring, "Good day, Sir Lucius," as they passed.

'So, not just any butler,' Aden noted.

Second, the servants gave Aden peculiar looks—none of them good. Some glared at him with barely concealed disdain, while others regarded him with pity that made his stomach churn.

'That's not a good sign,' Aden thought, his unease growing with every step. 'Whoever I am, I'm definitely not well-liked.'

It made him wonder: Was this one of those stories where the protagonist reincarnates as the villain? It seemed likely, given the mix of disdain and pity directed his way. Still, something didn't quite fit. Villains were supposed to be intimidating, right?

Yet Cashew didn't seem scared of him, and Lucius carried himself with the quiet authority of someone who wouldn't tolerate being pushed around—not even by a prince like the one Aden was inhabiting.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Aden confirmed he was in a fantasy world. It was a realm vastly different from Earth, filled with magic and creatures he could have never imagined.

It was breathtaking.

'Kaz would have loved this,' Aden thought wistfully. His sister, with her endless love for fantastical worlds, would have been thrilled to find herself in a place like this.

'This is... obsidian,' he realized, his mind flashing back to his college days when he used to play Craft Mines, a game where players could mine and craft items. Obsidian was a prized material in that game, and the resemblance was uncanny.

'Florian?' Aden thought, the name echoing in his mind. 'That's my name? Or—well, this body's name?'