Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 359: ‘Let The Summit Pass.’

"A confession?" Florian took a sharp step forward, his voice quick and demanding as he made his way toward Lucius and Lancelot. His heart began to pound as he looked between the two of them, urging them silently—just say it, say it already—who was it?

But before either man could open their mouth, Heinz raised his hand.

In an instant, red energy crackled through the air—raw, angry, suffocating. It burst out from Heinz like a living thing, wrapping around Lucius and Lancelot with crimson tendrils that pulsed and shimmered with barely restrained power. With a flick of his wrist, Heinz dragged them toward himself and Florian like they were nothing more than rag dolls caught in a storm.

Drizelous and Cashew both instinctively stepped back.

Cashew’s eyes widened in horror, his small body trembling slightly. Of course—this would be the first time he ever saw Heinz use magic.

’He’s never seen this side of him...’ Florian realized, glancing briefly at the boy’s pale face. ’It’s terrifying, even when you know it’s not aimed at you.’

"Speak," Heinz commanded, his voice low, dark, and impossibly cold. It cut through the air like a blade. "Who is it?"

The tension was immediate and sharp.

Lucius and Lancelot exchanged a glance—hesitant, silent, and far too long for comfort.

’Huh? Why do they look like they don’t want to say it?’ Florian frowned, unsettled. ’What is going on?’

Heinz clearly noticed it too.

"Who is it?" he repeated, this time his voice sharper, more threatening—an audible growl underlying the words, vibrating with power.

Lucius quickly bowed his head. "Y-Your Majesty," he said, voice laced with urgency, "please. Let us explain something first—I beg of you."

That caught Florian off guard. Lucius rarely begged for anything. And Lancelot stood beside him, tense but silent—equally solemn.

Something wasn’t right.

Florian didn’t know what compelled him to move, but he found his hand reaching out, resting gently on Heinz’s back—just enough for the King to feel it, to remind him someone was there.

Heinz turned to glance at him, one dark brow lifting slightly in question.

Florian met his gaze. "Let’s hear them out, Your Majesty," he said softly, voice calm but firm. There was something in his tone—enough to make Heinz stop and consider.

The room fell silent.

The only sound was the faint hum of Heinz’s magic still holding Lucius and Lancelot captive in mid-air. The tension stretched painfully thin as both men stood suspended, eyes flicking between Heinz and Florian, waiting.

Hoping.

"Please," Florian whispered, not looking away.

A long pause. Then, Heinz let out a slow, controlled sigh—reluctant, but not angry.

With a flick of his fingers, the magic dissolved into the air like smoke, and Lucius and Lancelot dropped lightly onto the marble floor. They exhaled in sync, visibly relieved.

Florian did too, his hand slipping back to his side. Even Drizelous muttered a breath of relief under his breath.

But the room’s pressure didn’t lift entirely.

Azure, the tiny blue dragon who grew a bit in size, flitted down from the chandelier and hovered in front of Lucius and Lancelot now. Despite his small size, the energy that crackled off him was unmistakable—protective, watchful, dangerous. The way he growled lowly at the two men was a clear warning: choose your next words very, very carefully.

"You better have a good reason for hesitating," Heinz said, his gaze like fire. "Who confessed?"

Lucius and Lancelot straightened, slowly—respectfully—but they kept their heads bowed, unwilling to meet Heinz’s eyes directly.

Lancelot was the first to speak. "After our initial interrogation, we found nothing," he said, his voice clipped and serious. "All the maids were accounted for. No signs of lies, no gaps in their stories."

"So," Lucius continued, adjusting his glasses with a trembling hand, "we decided to investigate further—outside the maid quarters. If someone was attempting to frame them, it had to be someone unaware that I could detect falsehood and emotions."

He paused, and Florian leaned forward slightly, trying to follow the thread.

"Then..." Lucius’ golden eyes gleamed beneath the glass, the glow almost eerie. "It struck me. It’s subtle, but it’s been consistent. Whoever did this—they didn’t know about my abilities."

Florian’s eyes widened. ’I never thought of that.’

Yes. That made sense. Lucius’ empathic magic—an Aurathil trait—was nearly infallible. Everyone in the palace knew about it. It was the very reason no one ever dared lie too boldly within Heinz’s halls.

So if someone tried to frame others—poorly—it would only mean one thing.

’They didn’t know about Lucius’ powers...’

"But... aren’t your abilities common knowledge?" Florian asked, brows furrowed. "You’re one of the few Aurathils. Everyone should know by now."

Lucius looked away, his expression shadowed now, darker than before.

"Well, yes... and no," he murmured. "There are a few people—who might not have known. I never told them, and..."

His jaw tensed.

’People who didn’t know?’ Florian’s thoughts were racing. He tried to think—who in the palace wouldn’t be aware of Lucius’ abilities? It was common knowledge that he was an Aurathil. His empathic magic was practically legendary in the castle.

And then it hit him.

"Oh." The realization made his breath hitch. He looked up suddenly, eyes wide. "The princesses."

Lucius and Lancelot didn’t respond right away—but the way they stiffened, the way Lucius’s eyes flickered almost imperceptibly, said enough.

"But..." Florian continued, the doubt crawling up his spine like ice. "I doubt the princesses would do that."

’They would never... not even Scarlett.’ He glanced toward Heinz, hoping to gauge his reaction, to see some sign of surprise or even the smallest flicker of suspicion.

But the king’s expression remained unreadable—calm, stoic. A fortress of emotionless stone.

It made Florian uneasy.

"We had the same thought," Lancelot admitted, voice low. "But we couldn’t afford to take chances. A few newer staff may also have been unaware of Lucius’ gift, but... given the situation, we decided to start with the ones who was closest to Prince Florian which were the princesses."

He cleared his throat, a visible tension forming in his jaw. "And then... someone approached us."

Lucius took over. "They introduced themselves as the perpetrator. The one who sabotaged Prince Florian."

Florian’s breath caught. "What?"

"I was skeptical," Lucius added. "But their emotions... they were genuine. They were telling the truth."

Florian’s heart pounded. His mind was whirling. ’So... it wasn’t one of the princesses? Or... was it?’ The pieces weren’t fitting together. ’Why would they confess but not let anyone know who they are? Why come clean at all?’

"Okay..." Florian’s voice was tighter now. "So they confessed. That’s great. But then—why the hell aren’t you telling us who it is?"

His frustration slipped out before he could catch it, the uncertainty fraying his nerves. ’This doesn’t make sense. Why are they being so damn vague?’

Sensing Florian’s rising irritation, Azure flared his tiny wings and flew closer, snarling. The little dragon’s growl, though high-pitched, was laced with warning. His tail crackled with faint blue sparks, coiling like a whip, daring the two men to keep stalling.

Lucius and Lancelot exchanged a heavy glance—then both sighed.

"The person is under our supervision," Lancelot said, slowly. "They surrendered willingly. No resistance, no fuss."

Lucius nodded. "But they requested one thing: to wait until the summit ends before revealing their identity. They wouldn’t say why... only that it was important."

He paused, then added, "And because of who they are... we agreed."

A silence fell.

Florian felt the chill run through his entire body. "What?" he whispered, his voice almost blending with Heinz’s. They had spoken in unison, but with very different tones—Heinz’s deep voice was laced with growing wrath, while Florian’s was a quiet, shaken disbelief.

’Because of who they are...?’

’What the hell does that mean?’

"Who. Are. They?" Heinz demanded now, each word low and deliberate like the tolling of a war bell. The red aura from earlier shimmered faintly again at his fingertips. The room grew heavier.

Lucius bowed his head again. "Your Majesty. We swear to tell you everything after the summit. We are watching them closely. But if you knew now—if everyone knew now—it may complicate things further."

Lancelot’s eyes darkened. "We’re not saying this lightly. We made this decision together."

’They actually agreed on something together... That’s new.’ Florian blinked, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. For once, Lucius and Lancelot weren’t at each other’s throats. ’Impressive. But... I still don’t get it.’ No matter how united they were, none of it explained why they were protecting this so-called perpetrator.

And then—

Heinz’s patience snapped like a drawn bowstring.

"Hah..." His voice was a breath, a growl—dangerous. "Really. Have you both forgotten where your loyalties lie? I am your king."

With a sharp gesture of his hand, crimson magic burst to life. It whipped through the air and slashed across Lucius and Lancelot like invisible claws.

Their clothes tore.

Skin split.

Lines of red bloomed across their faces and arms. They flinched and staggered back, pain twisting their expressions as blood trickled down their cheeks.

"Your Majesty!" Florian cried, stepping closer in alarm. He was frustrated too, yes—but not like this. "Please, they don’t deserve this—"

Lancelot’s legs buckled as he forced himself to kneel, his body trembling under the strain. "This is for your sake, and His Highness’s," he gritted out, teeth stained red. "The summit is crucial—to your goals... and to Prince Florian’s plans..."

Lucius dropped beside him, equally bloodied, yet still defiant. "We know what this looks like... but if the truth comes out now—if you find out too early—everything might fall apart. The perpetrator knew that. That’s why they—ah—!"

Lucius suddenly coughed violently, crimson spraying from his lips. Blood dripped from the corners of his eyes, painting his pale skin with streaks of red.

Florian’s heart seized.

"Stop it!" he shouted, no longer pleading but commanding. He grabbed Heinz’s arm, his fingers trembling. "You’re going to kill them!"

But Heinz didn’t respond.

He didn’t even look at him.

The king’s red magic danced and cracked in the air like fire made of rage, continuing to tear into the kneeling men. Lucius and Lancelot were visibly weakening now—blood soaking into the carpet beneath them.

Cashew was crying, small shoulders shaking as he hid behind Drizelous.

Drizelous stared in stunned horror.

Azure hovered mid-air with narrowed eyes, tail curling. The dragon wasn’t stopping Heinz—not this time. Instead, he looked almost pleased.

"Your Majesty," Florian whispered again, but his voice broke.

"Heinz!" he finally yelled, desperate now. He clutched the king’s arm harder, eyes burning—not with fear, but with anguish. "Please... that’s enough!"

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