Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 88

Chapter 88: ’A Knight’s Vow’

"L-Lancelot? What exactly are you doing?" Florian’s voice wavered, a sharp edge of panic slicing through his words. His fingers curled tightly around the bedsheets, knuckles turning white, as if clinging to the last remnants of normalcy.

His heart pounded erratically in his chest, an insistent warning that something was shifting, something he wasn’t ready to face.

Lancelot knelt before him, his head bowed low, his body taut with tension. "A vow," he murmured, his voice solemn, unwavering.

"I have been insolent these past few days. I misjudged you." He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as though the admission pained him. "I apologize, Your Highness. And as penance for my failure to save you sooner, I vow to protect you. From this moment forward, I will never waver again."

Florian’s breath caught. The sudden shift in Lancelot’s demeanor was jarring. Gone was the arrogant, sharp-tongued knight who challenged his every move. This man—this Lancelot—was raw, humbled, and disturbingly intense. The weight of his words pressed down on Florian, heavy and suffocating.

’Why does this feel different? Why does it feel like he’s giving me something more than just a knight’s oath?’

And yet, despite the sincerity of the moment, an insidious worry coiled within him. Was this guilt? Or... something more? Lancelot was not like Lucius—Lucius had always harbored feelings for him, from the very beginning.

But Lancelot? He had been dismissive, wary, even outright hostile at times. The idea that he could have developed feelings now, after everything—

’No. It’s impossible. He’s just feeling guilty. That’s all this is.’

Florian swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe. This was about pride. Lancelot was a knight, bound by duty, and his failure to protect Florian had wounded that pride. That was all. Nothing more.

Still, the desperation in Lancelot’s voice unsettled him.

"Y-You didn’t fail me! Seriously, you’re overreacting!" Florian blurted, his voice higher than he intended. His grip on the sheets tightened further, his mind scrambling for control. "I’m alive, aren’t I? That’s all that matters!"

Lancelot’s head lifted slightly, his steel-gray eyes meeting Florian’s with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. "You were kidnapped. Beaten. Poisoned." His voice trembled, bitter with self-loathing. "You nearly died, Florian. And where was I?" He exhaled sharply, his hands curling into fists. "Leading a battle. Chasing rogues. But not fast enough. Never fast enough to stop it before you had to save yourself."

’He blames himself. I can see it in his eyes. No matter what I say, he won’t believe me.’

His voice cracked on the last words, and Florian’s stomach twisted.

He wanted to argue, to tell Lancelot that none of this was his fault, but the sheer anguish in his expression silenced him. There was no reaching him when he was like this, drowning in guilt that was entirely misplaced. Still, Florian had to do something—had to break through before this went somewhere he couldn’t follow.

So he forced himself to breathe, to push down the unease, and settled for something familiar. Banter. Deflection. Anything to return them to solid ground. _{freeweɓnøvel.com}

’Just keep it light. Keep him from thinking too much about it.’

He plastered on a smirk and tilted his head. "Like I said, it was my choice. Besides, aren’t you already the harem’s knight? Does that mean you never planned to protect me until now?" His tone was light, teasing, the words meant to drag them back into their usual rhythm. The last thing he needed was for Lancelot to start seeing him differently.

To his relief, Lancelot blinked, startled, as if the weight of his emotions had momentarily lifted. He stared at Florian, momentarily lost in thought, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

’Good. That threw him off a little. Maybe this will work.’

’Good. That was better. Things aren’t changing. Not yet.’

"Oh." That was all Florian could manage as he lowered his gaze, his fingers absently twining together in his lap. His brows furrowed. ’So, he’s still alive.’ He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.