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Florian stared at the papers spread out on the desk before him, his pen hovering uncertainly above the sixth page. His normally sharp handwriting had beco sloppy and uneven, a reflection of the storm of thoughts raging in his mind.

Each sheet contained crucial information: details he had gathered from Cashew’s observations, Lucius’ confession, and his own findings. It was all ant to be compiled into a neat report, sothing Lucius could hand over to Heinz. Yet, Florian found himself paralyzed, unable to focus.

’What the hell was that?’ he thought, biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes drifted to the far wall.

No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the report, his mind kept circling back to it. The vision. The mory. A scene that felt too vivid to dismiss yet too surreal to accept—a full-on sex scene between Lucius and the original Florian.

He could still feel the heat from it lingering in his chest, the sha creeping up his spine.

’It was supposed to happen. In the book, this was the point where they...’ He swallowed hard, his grip on the pen tightening. ’But why did I see it? Why now? I wasn’t supposed to feel it.’

The sheer intimacy of what he had witnessed—lived through—unnerved him. He didn’t know whether to call it a vision, a warning, or so twisted premonition, but whatever it was, it shook him to his core.

And the worst part? His body had responded, just like it had during that earlier encounter with Lucius. It didn’t matter that he was straight—his reactions seed to betray him in this world.

’Is this world trying to force into its original path? Is it trying to turn into him?’ His stomach churned at the thought. Florian needed to focus, needed to get this report done and into Lucius’ hands before Heinz started asking questions. But his thoughts continued to drift, making every word on the page blur together.

A quiet voice broke his trance.

"Your Highness?"

Florian flinched, his pen slipping from his hand as he turned toward the sound. Cashew stood beside him, his small fra almost blending into the room’s dim lighting. The boy fidgeted nervously, his hands twisting the hem of his sleeve as he looked up at Florian with wide, shy eyes.

"Oh, Cashew," Florian said, forcing a smile. He placed a hand on his chest to steady his racing heart. "You startled ."

"I-I’m sorry," Cashew stamred, his gaze flickering between Florian’s face and the scattered papers. "You just... seem a bit off. Are you okay?"

Florian hesitated. He couldn’t exactly tell Cashew what was bothering him—not without raising questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Instead, he plastered on a reassuring expression and waved a hand dismissively. "I’m fine. Just tired. Nothing to worry about."

Cashew didn’t look convinced, his brows knitting together as he shuffled his feet. "You don’t... look fine, Your Highness."

Florian sighed softly, leaning back in his chair. "I promise I’m okay. Here," he said, softening his tone as he gestured toward the boy. "Would you mind if I patted your head?"

Cashew blinked, his cheeks tinting pink, but he nodded. "I... I don’t mind."

Florian reached out, his hand resting gently atop Cashew’s soft hair. He ruffled it lightly, the familiar action bringing a strange sense of comfort to his frazzled nerves. "Thank you, Cashew. I needed that."

Cashew’s blush deepened, and he looked down, trying to hide the shy smile that crept onto his face. "If it helps, Your Highness... then I’m glad."

Florian chuckled softly, his hand falling away as he leaned back into his chair. "It does help. Thank you."

There was a brief pause before Florian asked, "Did stalking the princesses give you a hard ti?"

Cashew shook his head quickly. "Not really. They barely noticed , and the maids didn’t seem to care either. I just stayed out of their way and listened."

Florian’s shoulders relaxed a bit, relieved to know Cashew hadn’t been put in any danger. "Good. I’m glad they didn’t bother you."

But as Cashew spoke, Florian’s thoughts began to spiral again, returning to that mory of the original Florian and Lucius. He couldn’t shake the vividness of it—the desperation, the raw emotion. The way it mirrored the events he had just narrowly avoided.

’This world is trying to make follow its script,’ he realized, his stomach twisting with unease. ’Even after changing everything the original Florian did, it’s still pushing toward the sa outcos. And if I don’t find a way out soon... I might end up dying anyway.’

His fingers curled into fists, his knuckles brushing the papers on the desk. He couldn’t afford to lose focus now. He needed to finish the report, hand it over, and figure out what the hell he was going to do next.

But even as he forced himself to write, the mory lingered like a shadow, an ominous reminder of just how precarious his position in this world truly was.

Florian continued writing, his quill scratching softly against the paper. The words ford slowly but steadily as he compiled everything he knew into a coherent report. His free hand, almost absentmindedly, rested on Cashew’s head, patting it gently in a soothing rhythm. It was comforting—for both of them, it seed.

Cashew shifted slightly, leaning just a little closer into Florian’s touch. His small movents caught Florian’s attention, and he glanced down at the boy. Cashew’s voice broke the silence, soft and hesitant. "Your Highness... do you miss your ho? And... your sister?"

Florian blinked, his quill pausing mid-stroke as he processed the question. For a mont, he was confused. Then he rembered. When he first woke up in this world, the panic had consud him—searching for his sister, demanding to know where he was, asking to go ho. The mory made his chest tighten.

He set the quill down briefly and gave Cashew a sad smile. "Yeah... I do. I miss my sister. And I miss my ho."

Cashew looked up at him, his own small smile faltering. "Oh..." he mumbled, fidgeting with his sleeve. "I thought so."

The room fell quiet again except for the sound of Florian’s quill scratching against the paper. After a few monts, Cashew spoke up once more, his voice even softer this ti. "If... If you leave, Your Highness... are you going to take with you?"

The question made Florian stop writing entirely. He turned to look at Cashew fully, surprise evident in his expression. The boy was staring down at his hands, his face dusted with pink. "I-I an," Cashew stamred, "I don’t know anyone else in the kingdom... besides you."

Florian’s gaze softened as his heart gave a small ache. Cashew rarely spoke this much, and this newfound boldness caught him off guard. ’Why does it feel like he’s the one worried about now?’ Florian thought, his brow furrowing slightly. ’He’s not usually this talkative. Did sothing happen to him?’

"Cashew," Florian began, setting his quill down carefully, "did sothing happen? Are you okay?"

Cashew shook his head quickly, his cheeks reddening further. "No, nothing happened, Your Highness. I just... wanted to know." He glanced up briefly, then quickly looked away, his embarrassnt clear.

Florian’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. Cashew was finally starting to express himself. The boy who had always been shy and reserved was now opening up, even initiating conversations. Florian’s chest swelled with emotion, and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and enveloped Cashew in a warm hug.

"You’re so adorable," Florian gushed, his voice full of affection. "I can’t handle it. Why are you this cute?"

Cashew froze at first, but then, to Florian’s surprise, he didn’t pull away. His small hands gripped Florian’s shirt lightly, and his face was buried against Florian’s chest. The boy’s voice was muffled when he spoke, barely above a whisper. "It’s... okay, Your Highness. I don’t dislike it."

Florian imdiately pulled back, his face a mix of guilt and concern. "I’m sorry—I didn’t ask if it was okay to hug you. That was rude of ."

Cashew shook his head, his wide eyes eting Florian’s. "It’s not rude. It’s... It’s the first ti soone’s ever hugged ."

Florian’s heart broke a little at those words. His throat tightened, and he had to blink a few tis to keep his emotions in check. Without thinking, he pulled Cashew into another hug, this ti slower, gentler.

"Cashew," he said softly, his voice steady with determination, "if I ever leave this place, I’ll definitely take you with . There’s no way I’d leave you behind."

Cashew’s wide eyes shimred with surprise, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say sothing but couldn’t find the words.

"And you know what?" Florian continued, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. "You’d love it in Floramatria. It’s a kingdom filled with flowers—fields of them as far as the eye can see. You’d feel right at ho there."

’I want to make sure you’re safe especially if I find my way back to my world. I’m sure the original Florian would prefer that as well.’

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