Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 341: ’Meeting Adjourned’

"The previous king did indeed help many. I cannot deny that," Florian said, his voice calm but firm as he crossed his arms against his chest. His emerald eyes gleamed with an intensity that cut through the air. "But was it truly for the best of his people?"

"How dare you, an outsider, question the king!" Alexandrius snapped, slamming his hand against the table as he rose to his feet, eyes blazing with indignation.

Florian, however, remained utterly unfazed.

"The previous king," he repeated coolly.

"What?" Alexandrius barked, caught off-guard.

"He’s dead, isn’t he?" Florian gestured toward Heinz without looking away from Alexandrius. "The king right now is here. So how about you show some respect—and sit back down?"

’Also have to remind them that Heinz had killed their beloved king.’

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut glass.

"You have been disrespecting us since the beginning of this summit, Prince," Alaric interjected, his tone low and dangerous. "You are aware this plan needs our approval?" fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

"Oh, I am very much aware," Florian replied, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He leaned slightly forward, his voice lowering just enough to feel conspiratorial. "So, how good do you think the headlines will be if these plans get scrapped?"

Alaric blinked. "Headlines?"

Florian turned his gaze upward, as if reading invisible words in the air. "’Duke Darkthorn and Duke Emberhold reportedly deny King Heinz’s long-term aid plans for struggling villages.’" His voice took on a theatrical quality, each word enunciated just enough to sting. Then, almost offhandedly, he added.

"The current king’s maternal uncle," —his gaze locked on Alaric— "and the father of the commander of the royal knights," —now aimed directly at Alexandrius.

Their expressions faltered. A moment of hesitation.

’We keep doing this. Aren’t they tired?’ Florian thought with a flicker of exasperation. ’You’re just characters from a novel. I have real-world experience, and you’re driven by the idea that Heinz and I are naive. But you’re the ones still playing a losing game.’

"And to explain what I meant," Florian continued, voice steady but sharp, as he gave a quick glance toward Heinz—making sure the king was still on his side. He was. Heinz’s gaze was unreadable, but calm. Supportive.

"The previous king’s assistance did help," Florian acknowledged, shifting slightly so his voice filled the room again. "But it was short-term. Temporary. It made people happy for a month, maybe two—then what? They fell back into hardship. It gave the illusion of mercy without ever solving the real problem. And worse, it trained even the mighty dukes to rely on his hand rather than fix their own territories."

A ripple of unease passed through the room.

"And let’s not pretend," he added with a scoff, his laughter dry and bitter. "Annual temporary relief? That’s not charity—that’s a leash. It wasn’t about kindness. It was about control. Ensuring everyone stayed dependent on him."

"Watch your mouth!" Alaric thundered, fists clenched. "That was still this kingdom’s king! An outsider like you—!"

"—An outsider like me," Florian cut in sharply, "was able to come up with a more fair, sustainable, and beneficial solution. One that supports the villagers and you, the dukes. Even the crown."

He stepped forward now, no longer the prince who needed approval, but the man who had earned it. "You are, of course, free to disagree. As far as I know, I don’t need unanimous consent. Three out of five territories is more than enough for a pilot program. But like I said... don’t think your people won’t find out."

Alaric opened his mouth, Alexandrius shifted in his seat—but neither spoke.

The weight of Florian’s words, his unwavering conviction, and Heinz’s silent agreement behind him had finally struck their mark.

’They’re hesitating.’ Florian thought, watching them both falter. ’They’ve pushed and pushed, hoping I’d bend. Hoping I’d fail. But I didn’t. And now they know it.’

Their once-defiant posture deflated, shoulders sagging just slightly as they exchanged uncertain glances.

The moment their eyes dropped, Florian’s lips curved into a slow, quiet smirk.

Because no matter how they tried to twist it, no matter how much resistance they threw—

Florian had won.

There was silence now—thick and heavy, like the final beat of a war drum echoing across a battlefield long after the clash had ended. No one dared speak. The tension, once electric and volatile, now settled into a reluctant stillness.

Florian slowly turned his head toward Heinz, his green eyes meeting the unwavering crimson ones of the king. Heinz was staring at him—not just watching, but really staring. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something Florian couldn’t place.

Florian offered him a small, composed smile. "Go ahead, Your Majesty."

But Heinz didn’t speak. He didn’t even blink. He just kept looking at him. The silence stretched again, not awkward, but intense—like the pause before something irreversible.

Florian felt his heart skip slightly. ’Why... is he just looking at me like that?’ he thought, his smile faltering just a touch. Still, Heinz didn’t avert his gaze.

And then, finally, the king’s voice cut through the quiet like warm steel.

"Now, I’m sure everyone’s convinced now, correct?" Heinz asked, his tone calm—almost light—but his eyes still fixed on Florian.

"I believe so, Your Majesty," Duke Roland replied, breaking the silence first with the sound of quiet deference.

"Then, the matter is settled." Heinz’s voice grew firmer. "Do any of you have any more complaints? Questions before I conclude this meeting and send you the appropriate documents?"

The room was still. No objections. No final arguments. Not even from Alaric or Alexandrius, who now wore expressions of begrudging silence, their pride wounded but their tongues restrained.

Heinz nodded. "Then, I believe this summit has been successful." He turned slightly, and this time, his smile was directed solely at Florian. "Good job, Florian."

The unexpected praise made Florian freeze for a moment. ’Why is he saying this now? Everyone’s still here...’ he thought, and before he could stop himself, his cheeks began to warm. He quickly looked away to hide the faint blush crawling onto his face.

"I—I just did what I had to," Florian said, clearing his throat. "I’m also thankful for the dukes... for listening."

He turned his attention to the rest of the room, his expression returning to a diplomatic mask. "And I hope, moving forward, we can expect a partnership between the royal family and the dukes."

’Considering both Heinz and the dukes didn’t trust each other for how many years?’ Florian glanced briefly at the king. ’I’m sure he still doesn’t trust them... especially for choosing Hendrix.’

"I’ve looked forward to this day," Elara said, smiling with quiet grace as she dipped her head.

"You have my full cooperation," Roland followed with a nod.

"As long as this Prince is also involved," Cedric added, his gaze flickering to Florian with something bordering on amusement, "I will agree."

Heinz didn’t wait for Alexandrius or Alaric to speak.

He stood up.

"Then, I believe this meeting is adjourned," he said with finality.

Florian released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. ’Meeting adjourned...’ he thought, his shoulders relaxing all at once. Heinz had told him before: once the summit meeting was officially adjourned, that meant everything was sealed. It was done.

’Meeting adjourned!’

Despite everything—the tension, the sabotage, the calculated jabs from Alexandrius and Alaric trying to trip him at every turn—

Florian was successful.

He’d won.

And best of all... Heinz now owed him one.

Florian stood as well, back straight, head held high. He caught the glance of the other dukes as they rose too. Heinz took a step forward, and Florian followed right behind.

As they moved toward the exit, the dukes all bowed in respectful unison. A formal gesture... but it felt different now. Earned.

Florian’s eyes landed on Elara again, who gave him a warm, knowing smile. He couldn’t help but smile back, genuinely. ’She’s seriously a good one...’ he thought fondly.

"Oh, Your Majesty, before you leave..." Cedric called after them, voice laced with politeness and subtle mischief, "we’d also like to remind you of our drinks tonight."

"I am looking forward to that as well," Roland added with an amused grin.

Florian blinked and glanced at Heinz, inwardly grimacing. ’Oh right. That... he definitely wasn’t looking forward to that.’

But to Florian’s surprise, Heinz—still in high spirits, perhaps buoyed by the success of the summit—smiled at the dukes. "I look forward to it as well," he said, voice smooth and pleasant.

And just like that, they left the room behind, the heavy doors closing gently behind them. The war of words had ended—for now.

As soon as the two stepped through the grand doors, and the heavy wood groaned shut behind them with a final thud, sealing the room away, Heinz suddenly stopped in his tracks.

The abrupt halt made Florian stop as well, nearly bumping into him.

’Oh?’ Florian blinked, staring at the king’s broad back. ’Does he want to say something?’

The corridor outside the summit hall was quieter than expected, lit by the warm glow of golden sconces. But the silence between them was louder. Florian watched Heinz’s shoulders rise with a slow inhale... then fall.

Then, without a word, Heinz turned around.

His eyes met Florian’s, and something in them made Florian tense immediately. Gone was the teasing amusement from earlier, replaced by something unreadable—serious, steady, and intense.

"Florian..." Heinz spoke, his voice low and solemn, threading through the still air like a pull on a string. "You..."

That was all he said. Just that. But it was enough to make Florian’s chest tighten.

For some reason, his nerves spiked. ’Why does it feel like he’s about to say something big?’ he wondered, unable to hide the tiny step he took backward when Heinz moved closer.

Heinz didn’t stop. Step by step, he closed the distance between them. And with every inch, Florian’s breath grew shallower. He swallowed thickly, instinctively straightening his posture.

’What is he doing? The dukes are still inside... they can come out any second!’ Florian thought, eyes darting briefly to the doors behind them.

Then, slowly, Heinz raised a hand.

And gently, almost reverently, he placed it against Florian’s cheek.

The touch was soft. Barely there. But Florian still flinched at the contact, unsure how to react to the king’s sudden tenderness.

"Your Majesty?" he asked, voice unsure and awkward. ’He’s touching me again...’

But Heinz didn’t remove his hand. His crimson eyes studied Florian as if trying to memorize every detail. Then, in a much quieter voice than before—low, and threaded with something Florian couldn’t name—he repeated himself.

"You did great."

The same words from earlier. But this time... they landed differently.

This time, they felt like something personal. Something meant just for Florian.

And somehow, they made his heart skip.

’Why... why does it sound like that now?’

"T-Thank you...?" Florian tried to respond, but his voice cracked with a stutter, betraying the sudden storm inside him.

Heinz still said nothing. His thumb moved, tracing a soft arc across Florian’s cheek. The gesture was too intimate. Too dangerous. And Florian stood frozen, unsure whether to lean in or pull away.

’What am I supposed to do? What does this mean? What does he mean?’

Before he could spiral any further, Heinz pulled his hand back—abruptly, like snapping out of a trance—and turned on his heel without another word.

"Now let’s go," he said, his voice once again returning to its usual sharp clarity. "We still have to figure out which bastard decided to sabotage you today."

He walked away, steps steady and composed as if nothing had happened.

Florian stood there for a second longer, dazed.

"R-Right..." he called after him, voice still shaken as he hurried to catch up. His thoughts were an absolute mess. He couldn’t piece together what had just happened. Why Heinz had touched him. Why it had made him feel...

...something.

But amid the confusion, one particular word from Heinz’s last sentence echoed in his head—clearly, sharply, ominously.

’Wait... did he just say which?’

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