Help! Get Me Out of My Sister's Chapter 272: ’Was It Him All Along?’

"Pardon? So suddenly?" Alexandria’s voice wavered, clearly taken aback by the urgency in his tone. Her brows knit together in concern as she noticed the tears still slipping down Florian’s cheeks. Without thinking, she stepped closer.

Florian flinched.

His body jerked at the subtle movent, breath shallow, hands twitching at his sides.

Alexandria froze, startled.

Florian was trembling—not from the cold, not from fear of her—but sothing deeper, older. Sothing embedded in mory.

But not his own.

Not entirely.

His heart was pounding too fast, his skin clammy with sweat. He could feel it—the weight of that night again. The bitter, choking stillness before a storm of screaming.

’These emotions again... they’re not mine.’

It was déjà vu—but sharper. More vivid than before.

He knew this mory. Knew it like a Chapter torn straight from the novel’s pages: the infamous night before the execution. The scandal. The whispered accusations. The betrayal that ca cloaked in silence and ceremony.

The original Prince Florian and Hendrix... condemned for treason.

Sleeping together.

Executed side by side.

No trial. No rcy. No truth.

Florian shut his eyes briefly, jaw clenching.

But what chilled him to his bones wasn’t just the mory.

It was how he rembered.

’That man... he triggered it. Just by touching . How?’

Florian’s eyes darted to the space where the man had stood just monts ago. Gone. Not a trace of him.

’Is he the one who’s been making rember? Was it him all along?’

He felt sick.

No one in this world should have the power to awaken soone else’s buried mories. There were no abilities like that—not in this kingdom, not anywhere.

Unless...

A God.

’Heinz said a God was helping him... and that other Gods were punishing him. Could it be that man? Could he be one of them?’

But then—

If he truly was a God, why would he use sothing as mundane as poison to kill Heinz?

Poison was cowardly. Human. Small.

’No... if soone like that wanted Heinz dead, they wouldn’t have left a body.’

So the tiline didn’t fit. The motive didn’t fit. And that man... he didn’t fit.

Florian’s mind suddenly shifted.

’Hendrix.’

The na ca unbidden.

Hendrix, who had attended Heinz’s birthday banquet—only to be cast aside like dirt. Hendrix, who drank himself numb that night and ended up tangled in Florian’s arms. Hendrix, who died first, without a word of defense.

But that couldn’t be it either.

Hendrix had been executed before Heinz died. Long before. That ruled him out completely.

’Also, Kaz ntioned Hendrix barely had any mana. So it couldn’t have been him.’ Florian frowned, his thoughts spiraling fast. ’But then... who? Who else has motive? Has power?’

’Fuck. I really need to talk to—’

"Grrrrrrr kraaah!"

The sudden screech yanked Florian out of his thoughts. His head snapped up.

"Azure?"

The familiar rasp of tiny fury reached his ears again, and he quickly spotted the source—Azure, trapped inside a glass jar lying near Alexandria’s feet, tail thrashing violently, wings pressed awkwardly against the narrow walls.

His heart clenched.

Alexandria turned toward the noise with a sheepish smile. "Oh! Are you familiar with this lizard? I thought so. My maids found him on your seat. He wouldn’t let us near him, so we had to use a jar to catch him."

Florian moved forward instinctively, but paused when she continued.

"But for now... may I ask—are you okay?" Her tone softened, brows furrowed with deeper concern. "You were crying earlier... and then you said you had to speak to His Majesty. Prince Florian, did sothing happen?"

Right.

She saw that.

But she hadn’t seen the man.

And then—

"And..." she hesitated, "when I found you standing there, you were mumbling His Majesty’s na over and over."

Oh.

’Shit.’

Florian resisted the urge to cover his face. He didn’t have ti for this. He still felt the tremors of whatever that man did to him, and now Alexandria—bless her heart—was unintentionally cornering him.

He couldn’t afford to cause a scene. Not here. Not now.

Especially not with Azure trapped behind her.

’Think, Florian. You’re already on thin ice. One wrong word and everything could unravel.’

"I—" he began, racking his brain, then—he saw the jar again. Azure thrashed his tail, blue scales glittering angrily under the sunlight.

And with that, the perfect excuse slipped into place.

"That... lizard is the king’s pet."

Alexandria blinked. "The king’s—wait."

Her eyes widened slowly.

"I knew the na Azure sounded familiar, and those blue scales... He’s not a lizard at all. This is His Majesty’s dragon?"

Florian winced internally.

He hadn’t ant to let Azure’s na slip—he was just too shaken. Everyone knew Azure. The dragon that scorched battlefields. That brought kingdoms to their knees.

There was no taking it back now.

So he nodded, keeping his voice low, steady. "Yes. It is. His Majesty tasked to look after him. He’s... very aggressive, as you can see. He’s also been refusing to return to his crystal."

He paused for effect, gaze briefly flicking to the ground.

"I lost him earlier. Right after His Majesty pulled away from the tea party. I panicked. I was terrified of what would happen. That’s why I was so shaken. I thought I’d... get in trouble."

He didn’t need to fake the trembling in his voice. He was still on edge. And it helped sell the story.

Alexandria gasped softly, placing a hand over her chest. "Oh my. No wonder you were in tears."

She looked at him with renewed sympathy now, her suspicions put to rest.

Florian let out a shaky sigh of relief, barely keeping it quiet.

’Okay. Okay, that worked. She believes it.’

Inside the glass jar at his side, Azure let out a low, guttural grumble—deep and indignant, like a tiny thundercloud bottled up. The jar rattled slightly from the inside, the dragon’s tail flicking restlessly. Florian spared it a glance, a part of him tempted to ask for Azure to be released, to feel the familiar weight of the creature wrapped around his shoulders again. But the rest of him was too unfocused. Still unsteady.

Still caught in the gravity of that mont.

Alexandria humd softly then, thoughtful. It should’ve been a comforting sound, but sothing in its timing made the hair on the back of his neck stand.

She tilted her head—just a little. Almost curious. Her expression didn’t change much; it remained soft, like always. But her voice... her voice had a new edge. Thin. Sharpened.

"Then... where were you all this ti? It’s been hours since His Majesty pulled you away from the tea party."

Florian blinked, heart dropping straight into his stomach.

’Shit—again?’

His mind grasped at threads but found none to hold. He was too drained to lie. Too rattled to improvise. The echo of that mory still pulsed through him—the man’s face, the impossible familiarity, the wrongness carved into the shape of sothing long forgotten. It lingered in his ribs like a na he couldn’t say aloud, gnawing at his edges.

His mouth moved before his mind could stop it.

"I was with Drizelous."

The words slipped out—barely louder than a whisper. A breath mistaken for speech.

And the mont they left him, regret surged like bile in his throat.

Alexandria didn’t react.

She didn’t gasp. Didn’t frown. Didn’t even blink.

She simply... stilled.

Every muscle, every breath—held.

Like a deer sensing the rustle of leaves in the woods, knowing sothing was watching. Sothing dangerous.

But her smile remained.

Tense in the corners. Hollow in the eyes.

"D-Drizelous?"