Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 333

Chapter 333: ’Cannot Be Found?’

"Are your notes that important?" Heinz asked, glancing at Florian from the corner of his eye as they stood in the quiet corridor, waiting for Lucius to return.

Lucius had volunteered to retrieve Florian’s notes, citing his ability to move quickly between the palace wings. Cashew had followed along too, likely to help, since he knew Florian’s habits and where he stored his things.

The halls were cold and polished, the sound of their footsteps echoing faintly in the distance.

Florian nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every detail of my plan is there. My speech is there. I need it... to make sure the presentation is perfect."

His fingers clutched at the fabric of the cape Heinz had wrapped around him. The thick, warm material did little to calm the storm inside.

He hadn’t always been this anxious—but public speaking? It had always been his weakness.

Even in his first life, back when he was just an office worker in a gray cubicle, presentations had always sent him spiraling. He would stutter over his lines, talk too fast, or completely miss his points.

Once, he had even confused two entire departments in a budget presentation and ended up being reassigned the next week.

And now?

Now, he was supposed to convince powerful, noble men with generations of pride and wealth behind them.

A single misstep could ruin everything. For him, for the kingdom—and for Heinz.

’Calm down. Lucius is getting the notes. Then I can present well. Just breathe.’ Florian told himself, closing his eyes for a moment as he inhaled and exhaled slowly.

He was deeply, almost absurdly grateful for the cape now—it hid his trembling hands, gave him something to grip, something to shield himself with.

He pulled it tighter around him.

’Why am I so nervous?’ he thought, his foot beginning to tap unconsciously. ’Cashew’s with Lucius. He knows where I put my notes. He saw me working on them yesterday. It’ll be fine. It has to be fine.’

But time was crawling.

It had only been a few minutes, but to Florian, each second felt like an eternity stretching across his nerves. Something gnawed at the pit of his stomach—something tight and bitter, a creeping sense of wrongness.

’Why aren’t they back yet? It’s just the guest wing... unless—’

Florian’s gaze flicked toward Lancelot, who stood nearby, shifting awkwardly like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He kept glancing at Heinz and then away, clearly itching to speak but holding back. Florian could only guess why.

The memory hit like a cold slap.

Alexandrius. His demand.

Heinz’s younger brother had cruelly forced Lancelot into an impossible corner—telling him that if he didn’t allow Andrew, his unqualified younger brother, into the royal knights, he’d be denied the right to see his dying mother.

Lancelot’s clenched fists said it all. He wanted to speak to Heinz. But he was waiting. Waiting for the right moment.

’I hope he gets the chance after the summit... before it’s too late.’ Florian sighed softly, sympathy blooming in his chest.

And then—finally.

Footsteps echoed ahead.

Florian’s heart leapt as he saw them—Lucius and Cashew. Relief flooded his face, and he took a few quick steps forward, his green eyes lighting up.

"Finally! Did you—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

Lucius’s brows were furrowed, his expression confused and tense. Cashew, on the other hand, looked pale and visibly upset, clutching the edge of his tunic in unease.

They didn’t even need to speak.

Florian knew. He knew.

That look on their faces—it said everything.

No.

No, no, no.

Lucius was the first to speak, his voice careful. "Your Highness... are you certain you left your notes in the room?"

Florian froze. His throat tightened. "Y-Yes, I did... why...?"

He asked even though he already knew.

Cashew stepped forward, nodding quickly. "I remember! His Highness was using them last night. I even helped organize the desk. But... they’re not there anymore. We searched the whole room."

Florian’s stomach dropped.

’How could that happen? They’re just... gone?’

A cold dread crawled up his spine. He hadn’t just misplaced them—someone had taken them.

And that could only mean—

Heinz approached now, sensing something was wrong. His voice was firmer this time. "What’s going on?"

And in that moment—Florian realized.

It clicked. The cut-up clothes. The tampered outfit. The missing notes.

It wasn’t a coincidence. It wasn’t bad luck.

It was intentional.

’Fuck.’

His face lost all color, his breath shallow as he stared at the ground, piecing it together too quickly for his liking.

They didn’t move. They waited—for him to speak.

’I don’t have a choice.’

How all signs pointed to the same intruder. No, not just "pointed." It was the same person. It had to be.

’Is he going to be angry that I kept this from him? That I made a decision on my own?’ Florian clenched the sides of his pants under the cape.