Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 349: ’Dragon In Heat?’

"This room... feels like it has no end," Cashew muttered, his soft voice echoing faintly off the high vaulted ceilings as he tiptoed around, carefully placing flower pots in every corner he could find. His arms were trembling slightly from the effort, and a thin sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead. Still, he kept going, determined to bring some familiarity to the overwhelming grandness of the room.

Florian watched him from the massive bed—his new bed now—nestled in plush velvet sheets that probably cost more than his old house back on Earth. He offered Cashew a small, sympathetic smile, one filled with gratitude and guilt.

The Obsidian Wing. The Royal Wing. The Queen’s Wing.

It had only been a few hours since Heinz had—on a reckless, emotional impulse—declared that Florian would move here. Just like that. No warning, no explanation. Just a curt command, and suddenly this entire wing, once occupied by the late Queen Anastasia, was now his.

Florian shifted slightly on the bed, still not used to how soft the mattress was. It made his old bed feel like sleeping on gravel.

A group of male servants had come in earlier, lugging in all his things with tight-lipped professionalism and narrowed eyes that barely concealed their judgment. Every look, every movement screamed: Who does this outsider think he is?

And really, Florian couldn’t blame them.

After all, this wasn’t just any room. This was the queen’s chamber—once a symbol of regal authority and reverence, now stripped and handed to some boy from another world, a prince in title but a harem member in truth. And with the entire palace already whispering about Heinz’s favoritism—about how Florian was the one being "groomed" to become queen—it was no wonder their stares felt like needles.

Thankfully, they didn’t linger. Whoever ordered them—Heinz, most likely—must have told them not to stay longer than necessary.

Trailing behind them were Cashew and Azure, loyal as always.

Cashew had been quiet but didn’t protest the change. That surprised Florian. He had expected some hesitation, perhaps even concern, especially knowing that Florian’s new room was now directly adjacent to Heinz’s own chambers.

But Cashew hadn’t said a word about that.

Maybe it was because of the day’s earlier chaos. Maybe Cashew was simply glad Florian had made it out safely.

Or maybe... whoever Cashew answers to isn’t the one who tried to sabotage me today.

That thought was comforting, but only slightly.

Delilah hasn’t returned either... but Cashew said Lancelot called her in for questioning, Florian mused, watching Cashew try to decide whether a flower pot looked better near the windowsill or beside the fireplace. I haven’t seen Heinz since this afternoon. Maybe he’s already drinking with the dukes?

He hadn’t mustered the energy to look for him. After everything, Florian had decided to hole himself in this room.

Socializing with the other princesses meant facing their curiosity—inevitable questions about what happened at the summit, about his sudden rise in favor. Talking with the duke heirs was even more daunting. Right now, Florian didn’t have the strength to entertain anyone.

He was exhausted. Mentally, physically... emotionally. So he stayed here.

Lying.

Letting the hours pass in stillness as Cashew diligently tried to recreate the coziness of his old room, pot by pot, curtain by curtain.

Florian was grateful beyond words for him. Without Cashew, he couldn’t imagine sorting through this enormous space alone—especially not after hearing what Heinz had told him earlier.

Anastasia killed herself in this room... and she tried to take Heinz with her.

The thought sent a chill down his spine.

A double suicide. Just to get a reaction out of the king. Who the hell does that to their child?

The eerie silence of the room suddenly felt heavier.

No wonder Heinz couldn’t stand the sight of the original Florian.

Florian’s gaze drifted upward, to the ornate ceiling where crystal chandeliers sparkled like a thousand cold stars.

The original Florian in the novel... he thought slowly, was the same. Hurting himself, desperate for Heinz’s attention. Begging to be seen, even if it meant pain. And instead of sympathy, he just made Lucius and Lancelot more obsessed with him.

But Heinz? Heinz couldn’t even look at him.

Maybe I finally understand why now... Florian sighed. But it still doesn’t explain why Heinz had him killed for sleeping with Hendrix. Even accused him of treason. Not even Kaz explained that part.

He paused.

Maybe Heinz just hates Hendrix that much. Maybe it’s not about the betrayal—maybe it’s just... jealousy? Rage? Pride?

Florian closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about it anymore.

"Mhm. Azure, seriously, what’s with you today?" he murmured, turning slightly to glance at the small blue dragon.

Now, Azure was normally affectionate—intensely so, in fact—and only ever toward Florian.

The little dragon had always been a warm, loyal shadow by his side: nuzzling his cheek with a soft purr, curling up on his lap like a housecat, even tucking himself beneath the blankets to sleep beside Florian at night. A comforting, steady presence in an overwhelming world.

But ever since Cashew and Azure had followed him into this new room, something about Azure had shifted.

The dragon wasn’t just affectionate anymore—he was strange. Off. Restless.

And far too persistent.

Azure was... licking him.

Not in the casual, enthusiastic way of a puppy. No. It was deliberate. Focused.

His tiny tongue dragged slowly along the side of Florian’s neck—again and again—his breath warm and heavy against his skin. Florian had tried to ignore it at first, brushing it off as clinginess, or perhaps some odd dragon habit.

But Azure hadn’t stopped.

Even now, the small blue dragon was climbing into his lap, pressing his snout against Florian’s collarbone and sniffing insistently.

He wriggled against him, nosing into his clothes, paws tugging as if trying to bury himself beneath the fabric. He gave a soft, muffled growl of frustration before nibbling lightly on Florian’s shirt-covered stomach.

Florian flinched, jerking slightly in discomfort.

’What is going on with him?’

He tried to pull away subtly, but Azure only followed, practically glued to him.

’Is he... in heat?’ the thought hit Florian like a slap. ’Do dragons even have heats? Is that even a thing?’

A deep frown creased his forehead.

Florian briefly considered calling for Heinz—surely he would know—but the idea died in his throat almost immediately. Heinz might’ve already left to drink with the dukes. And besides, did he really want to explain this?

He sighed, gripping the edge of his silk sheets with growing unease.

Florian tried to be understanding. Truly. He knew Azure wasn’t human, didn’t think like one, didn’t act like one. But even with all the patience in the world, the little dragon’s behavior was crossing into alarming territory.

Especially with Florian’s body being what it was—foreign, unpredictable, frustratingly sensitive. Azure’s heavy breathing and strange nuzzling only added to his discomfort.

"Azure," he said firmly, drawing the line, "if you don’t stop, I’ll have Cashew lock you up in one of the empty closets in this room."

It was an empty threat, of course. Florian would never actually imprison him—not when he knew what Azure truly was. The dragon’s small, adorable form was only temporary. A cute illusion. In truth, Azure was a massive, ancient beast—wild, intelligent, and, if he ever chose to be, terrifying.

But still, the words had an effect.

Azure stilled. His tail drooped, curling tight against his body as he shuffled away from Florian with a small, dejected whimper. His glowing blue eyes were wide, glossy with something like sadness. Then, strangely, he tried to sit on his own tail, as though hiding it from view.

That caught Florian’s attention.

’Why is he hiding his tail?’ he thought, a flicker of curiosity cutting through the awkwardness. ’Is it part of...whatever this is?’

"I really have to ask His Majesty what’s going on with you," Florian muttered under his breath, glancing toward the door with a sigh. Azure whimpered again, a soft, mournful sound full of longing and confusion.

Florian’s heart ached. He hated seeing Azure so upset. But still, boundaries needed to be set. "I’m sorry it has to be this way, Azure. But for now... just stay there on the side, alright?"

Azure lowered his head and gave a small nod, settling down a respectful distance away.

A beat passed before Cashew’s voice broke the silence, curious and light.

"Is something wrong with Azure, Your Highness?"

Right. Cashew. He’d been so focused on rearranging Florian’s belongings—trying his hardest to make the vast, heavy air of this queen’s chamber feel even slightly like Florian’s old room—that he probably hadn’t noticed.

"Not that much," Florian replied quickly, offering a strained smile. "He’s just acting strange."

"In what way?" Cashew blinked innocently.

Florian let out a laugh—nervous, awkward. "He’s just... not acting like himself. He’s being rougher, more stubborn. I think something’s going on with him, but we won’t know until I can talk to His Majesty."

Cashew tilted his head, thoughtful. "Right... His Majesty had that drink gathering with the dukes," he said, then hesitated. "Were... the dukes really mean?"

It was a random question, one laced with worry. Cashew clearly wanted to know what happened at the summit, so he took this chance to change the topic. Probably had been dying to ask ever since they returned.

’That’s right. I haven’t told him yet.’ Florian thought, finally softening. Cashew had been so helpful lately—so sweet and unwavering in his loyalty. He deserved to know.

Florian patted the edge of the bed and beckoned. "Come here. Actually, I really wanted to tell you what happened, Cashew. I was really cool earlier, you know?"

The boy’s eyes lit up like a star had ignited inside them.

"You were?! Did you tell them off, Your Highness?" Cashew scooted closer with excitement, the flower pot in his hands nearly tipping from how fast he moved.

Florian grinned. "You know it."

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