Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 373: ’Blink If...’

Florian let out a slow, exhausted sigh, the sound dissipating into the thick, stagnant air of the dungeon. His eyes remained fixed on Delilah, watching closely—closer than ever—as the horror played across her aging features. Her mouth trembled slightly, and for a brief second, it almost looked like she might cry again.

’She really didn’t expect that.’

It would’ve been funny, if it weren’t so tragic.

His legs crossed with casual grace, but his heart beat steadily behind the façade. The shadows of the cold stone walls felt heavier than before, the silence louder. The air in Delilah’s cell, already frigid, seemed to grow colder still—like it could sense the unraveling of something that had been tightly bound for far too long.

From the corner of his eye, Florian glanced toward Lucius, who stood still and distant under the torchlight’s flicker. Ever the sentinel. Ever the shadow.

Then his eyes returned to Delilah, sharp but no longer cruel.

"Did you really think His Majesty would be naive enough to believe such a lie?" he asked softly, each word deliberate. "Even I didn’t believe it. And that’s coming from me."

A soft huff of something between disbelief and dark amusement left his lips.

"I’ve always known you didn’t like me," he continued, brushing his fingers through his soft, lilac curls. "Which was fair at first. I didn’t give you any reason to. But then I changed. I got better. And that’s when you really started hating me."

Delilah finally lifted her eyes to him, sharp with something unreadable. "For the better?" she asked, her voice brittle. "Do you truly believe that was for the better, Your Highness?"

’What is she even trying to say?’ Florian narrowed his eyes slightly, but let it go. ’Never mind that... stay focused.’

He gave a dismissive shrug, his voice calm. "I’m not clinging to His Majesty anymore. I don’t chase after him. I’ve made myself useful, not ornamental. I’ve accepted not being queen. I’ve accepted not being his wife."

Delilah scoffed. "And yet, he still gave you the chance to be a candidate."

Florian’s arms crossed tightly over his chest. "How is that my fault? You saw how genuinely shocked I was. I’m sure you did. And let’s not pretend you’re unfamiliar with Lucius’ abilities. He can read people—detect lies, track emotion. You could’ve gone to him at any time."

He watched her closely. Her jaw tensed. Her brow twitched.

"You could’ve confirmed your suspicions," Florian added. "Even if you believed Lucius was biased—and it’s no secret how he feels about me—you had options. You had choices. But instead, you chose sabotage."

His words hung in the air, thick with judgment.

"You tried to destroy a plan meant to help people. To save those forgotten villages. Even if you thought I was doing it all for His Majesty’s attention, I never thought you’d stoop so low as to sabotage that."

Delilah’s gaze dropped to the floor. Her shoulders slumped. She was trembling.

Not just from shame.

But from fear.

’She’s scared... but not of me. Not of the consequences. Then what?’

Florian’s lips pressed into a thin line. His mind was racing.

’She knows we’re going to keep looking. She knows this doesn’t stop here. So who is she protecting? Who scares her this much?’

’I have to find out. I need her to tell me.’

Heinz’s voice echoed faintly in his memory—the quiet confession that Florian now reminded Delilah of Anastasia in her youth, before the palace and the pain hollowed her out. That memory was the key.

"Delilah," Florian said gently, his voice dipping low as he approached her.

She looked up in surprise, a flash of confusion and uncertainty crossing her face. She tensed, expecting cruelty perhaps, or mockery—but Florian did neither.

Instead, he placed a delicate hand on her shoulder.

Her body flinched instinctively, but he didn’t pull away.

"I know how loyal you are to His Majesty," he said, softly. "I know he sees you as the mother he never had. I’ve also come to learn that before she was Queen... Anastasia was your best friend. Your closest companion."

Her breath hitched.

"You were her lady-in-waiting. But before that, you were just two girls. Friends. Dreamers, maybe. And I think you’ve carried that loyalty with you even now, even after everything."

The silence between them deepened. Even the flickering torch seemed to hold its breath.

Florian felt a quiet, genuine sympathy stir within him—unexpected, but real.

Delilah wasn’t just an adversary. She was another soul left wounded by the late queen’s legacy.

A casualty of loyalty.

A victim of love.

Just like the original Florian.

Just like Anastasia—before love broke her too.

"I’m not after His Majesty anymore," Florian said quietly, his voice calm—genuine. "I’ve moved on. Whatever feelings I once had... they’re gone now. Maybe you’re protecting the real perpetrator because you still want me out of the palace. Maybe it’s even for what you believe is His Majesty’s sake."

He paused, his gaze steady.

"But I don’t love him anymore, Delilah."

’Also, I’m not the real Florian.’ The thought lingered like a whisper at the edge of his mind. ’But saying that out loud wouldn’t help either of us.’

"You don’t have to worry about me anymore," he said, stepping closer, lowering his voice. "So please—Delilah." He met her eyes, soft but unwavering. "Tell me who it is... let me help you. His Majesty already agreed to reconsider your punishment if you cooperate. You don’t need to protect them. Think about what you’re doing—for him, and for Drizelous."

At the sound of her son’s name, Delilah flinched.

Of course she did.

Despite the cold distance between them, Florian had seen the threads of love that still tied them together—frayed, strained, but not broken. Drizelous loved his mother, even if he didn’t say it. And Florian was sure Delilah, beneath the stern exterior, loved her son just as much.

There was silence. The air in the dungeon thickened, as if the very walls were holding their breath.

"I..." Delilah’s voice cracked—fragile, uncertain.

Florian’s heart leapt in cautious hope. He leaned in slightly, waiting. Expecting.

But then—

"I did it. As I’ve said, Your Highness. I did it."

Florian froze. His expression faltered, the light of hope in his eyes dimming as disbelief set in.

Slowly, he turned toward Lucius, who stood watching silently. Florian gave a subtle nod—Is she lying?

Lucius met his gaze... and nodded once.

She was telling the truth.

But Florian knew she wasn’t.

’That’s not true. That’s not the truth. I know it.’

The ache in Florian’s chest deepened, coiling tightly like a hand around his heart. But even through the weight of disappointment, something in Delilah’s expression stood out—clearer now than before.

She wasn’t trying to protect herself. This wasn’t a martyr’s confession.

She was scared.

Terrified, even.

Florian watched her closely. The way her shoulders trembled despite trying to stay still, the way her eyes darted for the briefest second to the shadows behind him—as if she was making sure someone wasn’t there.

’She’s not doing this to take the fall... someone is forcing her to.’

That was the only explanation that made sense. Delilah, the loyal and unyielding head maid, would never intentionally betray the crown. She would never sabotage something as important as Florian’s plan for the kingdom—unless someone held something, or someone, over her head.

’Whoever the real perpetrator is... they’re threatening her.’

But why? And with what? That was what Florian had to figure out next.

’First, I need confirmation. I can’t act on instinct alone—not when it comes to this.’

If she was being blackmailed, then maybe... maybe he could convince Heinz to delay her punishment. Maybe they could protect her long enough to coax the truth out. Maybe they could turn this entire case around before it was too late.

Florian took a slow step forward, then another, leaning in—close enough for her to hear only him. Delilah flinched at the sudden nearness, her breath catching in her throat.

Florian kept his tone low and careful. "Delilah..." he whispered, gaze locked with hers, "...if someone were threatening me, I’d blink my eyes twice."

He said it gently, like a secret between old friends. A simple sentence cloaked in layers of meaning.

’Please... please understand what I’m trying to say.’

He leaned back again, expression neutral, as if the moment hadn’t just happened. Delilah looked at him as though the air had been knocked out of her.

She was stunned. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Or maybe she was calculating.

Or maybe—just maybe—she understood.

"I’ll be going now," Florian said, rising from his seat, smoothing out the front of his clothes like this was just another day. His voice was steady, but inside, his heart pounded.

"I had hoped you’d tell me... but it seems it really was just you."

He turned, taking slow steps away from her. Delilah didn’t speak.

She didn’t plead.

She didn’t blink.

Not once.

"I’ll let His Majesty handle this then."

He stopped just by the door, as if giving her one last chance.

Still silence.

And then—

Blink.

...Blink.

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