"Lucius held onto Florian’s waist, enjoying the sight of the prince writhing below him. ’You don’t seem happy, Your Highness,’" Kaz read aloud from her iPad, her voice unnervingly calm as she continued. "’He whispers as he placed a small kiss on his neck.’"
Across the room, Aden grimaced so hard his face hurt, trying not to outright gag. ’Why am I even here?’
"Tears were in Florian’s eyes as he refused to answer, but Lucius already knew why. ’Stop thinking about His Majesty, Your Highness. Tonight...’" Kaz’s tone grew sultry, clearly enjoying her dramatic narration. "’Focus on .’ Lucius’s eyes practically glowed, hunger evident as he trailed more kisses down his chest, stomach, and—’"
"Stop! Stop right there!" Aden practically shouted, his hands flying up to cover his ears. "I don’t want to hear any more!"
Kaz frowned, lowering her iPad with a pout. "What? Is it bad?"
"Bad? No. Unnerving? Yes," Aden snapped, glaring at her. "How do you even write this stuff? And why are you reading it out loud to ?!"
Kaz tilted her head, looking genuinely confused. "Why would it be unnerving?"
Aden threw up his hands, exasperated. "Do I really need to remind you how old you are? How do you even know how to write things like that?"
Kaz shrugged, completely unbothered. "I’m not just a writer; I’m a reader too. And I’m good at research." She leaned back into the couch, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Anyway, was it good?"
"No!" Aden shouted, his face twisting in pure disgust. "I an, objectively, maybe, but I don’t care! I don’t want to hear about your weirdly descriptive BL smut scenes!"
"Prude," Kaz muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.
Aden took a deep breath, deciding it was better to change the subject than to escalate this horrifying conversation further. "Why does Lucius even entertain Florian?" he asked, his voice strained. "Florian’s in love with the king. Shouldn’t he be, I don’t know, ignoring him or sothing?"
Kaz smirked knowingly. "Ah, changing the subject, huh?"
"Just answer the question," Aden grumbled, crossing his arms.
She placed the iPad back on the coffee table, stretching out leisurely. "Well, Lucius is still pretty traumatized from what happened to him as a child when his maid... you know, took advantage of him."
"Uh-huh?" Aden prompted, already regretting the conversation but too curious to stop now.
"Florian’s sadness gives Lucius a weird sense of superiority," Kaz explained, her tone shifting into sothing almost clinical. "Florian throws himself at Lucius, depends on him, and Lucius gets obsessed with that feeling of control. It’s like he’s rewriting his trauma by being the one in charge this ti."
Aden blinked, his disgust montarily replaced with intrigue. "So... Lucius doesn’t even love Florian? It’s just so warped obsession because Florian’s sadness mirrors how he used to feel?"
"Exactly," Kaz said, snapping her fingers and pointing at him. "You get it now."
"Your Highness, you seem distracted today. Does your head still hurt?"
Florian snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at the royal tutor, Freud. The man stood before a magical chalkboard that diligently recorded everything he said. Its glowing letters faded in and out as Freud spoke, making Florian montarily marvel at the enchantnt.
Florian was currently in his "lessons," which Cashew had reminded him were focused on the history and culture of Concordia. He vaguely rembered this detail from the novel. It wasn’t elaborated on, just a passing ntion that Florian had taken lessons to impress Heinz.
Freud, however, wasn’t part of the original novel. The man must have been one of those "natural spawns" in the world—a character who simply existed to fill the gaps in the story.
Florian shook his head, forcing a polite smile. "No, Sir Freud, I am feeling fine. My apologies... I was just slightly distracted."
"Distracted?" Freud adjusted his glasses, tilting his head with what seed like genuine curiosity. "May I ask why?"
Florian studied Freud’s expression. His tone was polite, almost familiar. ’The way he’s talking to ... it seems like the original Florian had a decent relationship with him,’ Florian thought.
The truth was, Freud wasn’t the reason for his distraction. It was Lucius.
Lucius had been dominating Florian’s thoughts ever since their earlier encounter. The shift in Lucius’s behavior was bothering him. ’He’s adapting to my sudden change way too quickly,’ Florian thought, suppressing a shudder.
’And what was that earlier? Was he flirting with ? Trying to seduce ? What happened to the distant, cold Lucius who was supposed to avoid Florian’s seduction techniques until it got too much?’
"Your Highness, you’re spacing out again," Freud said, breaking into Florian’s spiraling thoughts.
"Oh, sorry—Oh my god!" Florian exclaid, his voice startlingly loud.
It wasn’t Freud’s words that startled him—it was Freud himself. The tutor, who had been standing a respectable distance away earlier, was now re inches from Florian’s face.
’What the hell is with n in this story and personal space?!’ Florian thought, his eyes widening in alarm.
Freud looked just as startled by Florian’s outburst, taking a half-step back. "My apologies, Prince Florian. Did I scare you?"
Before Florian could respond, Freud reached out, placing a hand on his cheek as if to check his temperature.
Florian froze, his internal BL warning sirens blaring. ’This is too sudden! Why is he touching ?!’
"I’m fine. I’m fine," Florian said quickly, waving his hands to push the tutor’s hand away without being overtly rude. He forced a laugh to lighten the tension, even though his nerves were anything but calm. "You can continue with the lesson, Sir Freud."
For a brief mont, Freud hesitated, his gaze sharpening ever so slightly. There was sothing in his eyes—curiosity? Suspicion? Florian couldn’t quite place it, but the look unsettled him.
"Very well," Freud said finally, stepping back to resu the lesson.
Florian’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, but he remained wary. ’My BL alerts are blaring. This tutor feels... off.’
When Florian had first entered the study room, he’d been relieved to escape Lucius’s intense gaze. The study was quiet, scholarly, and for a mont, he thought he might actually learn sothing useful about Concordia that wasn’t in the novel. After all, the existence of Freud—a character neither he nor Kaz wrote about—proved there was more to this world than they’d created.
It had been going smoothly, too. Until his mind had wandered back to Lucius and Freud suddenly started acting strange.
’I’ll need to keep an eye on him,’ Florian thought, resisting the urge to glare at the tutor as he returned to the magical chalkboard. ’He seems... iffy.’
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