Help! Get Me Out of My Sister's Chapter 451: ’Drizelous’ Honest Feelings.’

"To be quite frank with you, Your Highness... I had hoped you wouldn’t ntion it," Drizelous said softly, his voice carrying a quiet weight. The smile on his lips remained—but it was thinner now, strained, as if it hurt to hold.

"Oh, I’m... I’m sorry, I... I just wanted to apologize." Florian’s voice trembled, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I know I can’t... my apology can’t bring her back, I..." His eyes fixated on his foot, unable to look Drizelous in the eye. "This was all my fault. I... tried my best, Drizelous, to save her. I really..."

The air shifted—thickened. A heavy silence settled around them. That familiar ache tightened around Florian’s chest: guilt, sorrow, the sharp sting of regret.

"The fact that one of them... one of my butterflies was responsible..." His voice cracked as his eyes flickered toward the magical creatures that flitted gently around them.

The mory of Luluwing fluttering in the air only deepened the weight in his chest. ’I’m so... sor—’

"Keep your head up, Your Highness."

The sudden gravity in Drizelous’s voice made Florian jolt and et his eyes.

The flamboyant spark that usually danced behind Drizelous’s expression was gone. In its place was sothing firm, quiet, serious—sothing real.

’Ah, I knew it...he was mad at—’

Florian’s thought shattered as Drizelous suddenly knelt before him.

"What—Drizelous, what are you—?" Florian flinched, stepping back instinctively as the man reached for his hands. "Why... stand up." Panic blood in his chest. "Please, get up, Drizelous."

But the man didn’t budge. His head remained bowed, his grip firm.

"Your Highness," Drizelous began, voice low and raw, "my family—my mother—committed a grave sin against you. Whether she was innocent, forced, or threatened... none of it changes the fact that she still made that choice." He paused, squeezing Florian’s hands gently.

"And yet... you tried to save her. After everything, you still tried. I know—deep in my heart—that you truly are my kindest muse."

Florian’s lips quivered, his throat tightening.

God. He’d been crying so easily these past few days.

"Drizelous, no... This... she was still your mother. Despite everything, that won’t change."

"I know." Drizelous’ voice was steady, but tinged with quiet sorrow. "And I did love her. I mourned her. But truthfully, Your Highness... she was barely in my life." His eyes lifted slowly, eting Florian’s gaze. "Though we stayed in the sa ho, she always felt... far. Present in body, but never in spirit."

Every word landed like a soft blow, honest and sharp.

"I grieved more for you, Your Highness. When you didn’t wake for days... I feared the worst. I could never be angry at you. Never. You were nothing but a victim."

Florian couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Tears slipped down his cheeks.

Fuck.

He was crying again.

And though he hated it... he wasn’t going to stop it either.

"I’m... I..."

"So keep your head high, Your Highness," Drizelous said, rising to his feet. "Don’t you dare apologize to . These are my honest feelings. There’s no atonent for what my mother did, and yet—you still let stay. You still let create garnts for you and His Majesty... That’s more than I deserve."

Carefully, he reached out, resting his hand atop Florian’s head. A gentle, almost hesitant pat.

That single, kind gesture undid Florian completely.

He wept harder. Quietly. Freely.

"You’re too kind, Drizelous," Florian whispered, sniffling. "I didn’t expect you to be this serious."

"And I didn’t peg you as a crybaby, Your Highness."

Drizelous gave a soft laugh, then gently cupped Florian’s cheeks, dabbing at the tears with an absurdly soft cloth.

"Now, now—you may be a pretty crier, but I can’t have my muse walking around with a puffy face, can I?"

Florian laughed softly, the sound shaky but genuine, as he nodded and reached up to wipe the rest of the tears from his face.

"And I still want details about what’s going on between you and His Majesty," Drizelous said with a playful glint in his eye, winking at him.

Florian only laughed harder at that, his voice lighter now as he continued dabbing at his cheeks. "There really is nothing!"

"Uh huh. Sure, keep your secrets." Drizelous grinned knowingly, already turning away and busying himself once more with the array of fabrics laid out. "I heard Princess Athena and Princess Scarlett are the ones helping you plan the ball. Looks like I’ll need to coordinate with them about your outfit as well."

"Is it not going to be similar to before?" Florian asked, genuinely curious.

Drizelous gasped, loud and theatrical, spinning on his heel. His energy had returned in full force. "Of course not! I heard the Floramatrian royal family—your family—will be attending..." He flicked a silk cloth into the air like it was a banner. "Which ans I absolutely have to put you in traditional Floramatrian clothing!"

’Floramatrian clothes? Do... they dress differently?’

Florian blinked, his brows furrowing just slightly as the thought settled in.

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

Cashew carefully wheeled the tray of food down the corridor, the delicate clinking of cutlery gently rattling with each small bump on the floor. He was on his way back to Heinz’s quarters to bring lunch to Florian.

"We’re very fortunate, Azure," he said softly, glancing up at the little blue dragon perched atop the tal cloche, its sharp claws tapping idly against the polished do.

Azure didn’t respond at first, his wings tucked close, his usual curious chirps noticeably absent.

He had been... quiet lately.

More subdued than usual.

Concerned, Cashew continued speaking to him, hoping to stir the dragon from his lancholy.

Azure tilted his head slightly at the sound of his na. "Kraa?"

Cashew smiled gently. He couldn’t understand Azure, but he could guess.

’Probably asking why we’re fortunate.’

"Today’s lunch is His Highness’ favorite," Cashew said, trying to sound cheerful. "I’m sure this’ll lift his spirits."

At the ntion of Florian, Azure perked up just a little—his golden eyes brightening, his tiny tail swishing once. He smiled in his own draconic way, and Cashew couldn’t help but smile in return. That reaction alone made it worth saying.

It was strange, really. Azure belonged to Heinz, not Florian. And yet, here they were—both of them more worried about Florian than the king himself.

And maybe that’s why Cashew had grown so fond of the little dragon.

They simply... understood each other.

They both just cared about Florian.

"He did seem like he was in a good mood today," Cashew murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Even if the king didn’t."

There had been sothing off. Cashew hadn’t said anything, but when he and Drizelous arrived earlier, he had clearly heard sothing shatter inside the room. But when the door opened, there was nothing visibly broken. Nothing out of place.

Except the atmosphere.

Tense.

Heinz looked angry.

Florian, on the other hand, seed calm—almost too calm. And Cashew, though grateful for everything Heinz had done for Florian, couldn’t shake the unease building in his chest.

There were still too many reasons to distrust Heinz.

Too many reasons to keep Florian away from him.

Cashew had been considering bringing it up again—asking Florian to sleep in his room instead of the king’s.

But the nightmares... Cashew still worried. Still rembered how restless, how terrified Florian used to be in his sleep.

So, he had been putting it off.

’But I really wish he’d go back to—’

"Hey, Cashew."

Cashew froze.

A chill ran up his spine.

Azure imdiately stood up, his body tensing, wings spreading as he growled—his tiny fangs bared in warning toward sothing behind Cashew.

Before Cashew could even turn around, he felt a flicker of movent—a hand passing him, fingers casting sothing—magic.

A quiet shimr. Then a thud.

Azure slumped forward onto the tray, sound asleep.

"Azure—!" Cashew dropped to his knees, cradling the dragon’s tiny body in his arms, checking for breath. Then he spun around, eyes wide. "Is... is he okay?"

"He’s fine," the figure said coolly. "Just asleep. We can’t have him alerting the king that I’m here."

Cashew looked back at Azure, who was breathing softly, peaceful—but still, his fists clenched.

A sigh escaped his lips. "It’s been a while, hm?"

The figure gave a soft laugh.

Cashew’s expression hardened, narrowing his eyes as he stood. "Where were you all this ti?" he asked sharply.

His voice dropped. "Mister?"