Help! Get Me Out of My Sister's Chapter 62: ’Newfound Resolve’

WARNING: The following italicized content contains implications of sexual assault. If you’re uncomfortable, please skip the italicized section and resu reading at "Florian’s eyes shot open"

"Did you enjoy that, little prince? I certainly did." Charles chuckled, his voice laced with cruel amusent. He stood over Florian, who lay sprawled on the ground—vulnerable, disheveled, and trembling.

His body ached, a dull pain settling into his limbs, but it was the lingering sense of violation that made his skin crawl. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks, hot and relentless, no matter how hard he tried to suppress them.

’I’ve been defiled... is this my punishnt for seducing Lucius?’ Florian’s vacant stare reflected his inner tornt. Even though no one restrained him now, the phantom sensations of unwanted hands lingered on his skin. He wondered if this was what Lucius endured – the relentless urge to cleanse himself of the violation.

"He went from kicking and screaming to silence real quick," Arthur sneered, his voice laced with contempt. "I heard you liked it when it was a nobleman, but with us commoners, you cry? What a joke—discrimination at its finest."

Florian’s lips trembled as tears streaked his face. His voice broke into a desperate plea. "I need to see Heinz... please, let return to Heinz."

Arthur’s grin twisted into sothing cruel. "The king? He doesn’t even acknowledge your existence. We only dragged you along for a bit of fun." His boot pressed into Florian’s back, grinding down without rcy. "And entertained we were. But here’s the kicker—once the king finds out what happened here, he won’t ever look at you again."

Florian’s breath hitched, the weight of those words shattering what little resolve he had left. The sobs tore through him, raw and unrestrained. "No... No... No..."

The echoes of his cries were drowned out by Arthur’s callous laughter, sealing his despair deeper into the pit of hopelessness.

"Oh? Suddenly you’re so energetic again?" Charles sneered, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, his sharp gaze fixed on Florian with cold amusent. "Funny how that works. But tell —why the sudden denial?"

Florian trembled, his breath ragged as he clutched himself tightly, as if trying to hold together sothing shattered beyond repair. His voice wavered, barely above a whisper. "Heinz... Heinz can’t know," he choked out, his body wracked with shivers. "If he finds out... I’ve been... defiled."

’He’ll...ignore even more...’

Both Charles and Arthur erupted into cruel laughter, their mocking voices cutting through the suffocating silence. "You really think his majesty won’t notice those marks?" Charles sneered, his grin twisted with malice. "We made sure he’d see every single one." He jabbed a finger toward the angry red bruises marrying Florian’s skin.

Florian’s breath hitched, his body trembling as their taunts echoed in his ears. The weight of sha pressed down on him, suffocating. He wrapped his arms around himself, desperate to hide what couldn’t be hidden.

’I feel contaminated... I’m tainted...’

Overwheld by sha and anguish, Florian repeated silently in his mind: ’I’m impure... I’m filthy...Heinz can’t see like this...’

Tears cascaded down his face, relentless and suffocating, until he choked on them, gasping for air. His body trembled as the echoes of cruel laughter from the heartless pair above him sliced through the thick haze of misery.

’How could Heinz ever love now?’

Florian’s eyes shot open, his breath hitching as he jolted upright. Tears from his nightmare traced hot paths down his cheeks, his chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. His vision swam for a mont before adjusting to the dim, suffocating darkness around him. But he didn’t need ti to rember where he was or what had happened.

Because he was fully aware.

The nightmare was nothing but a cruel reminder.

He was still here—trapped in this windowless room, abandoned and discarded like he was nothing. The weight of it pressed down on him, sinking into his bones. Slowly, he sat up, his body heavy with exhaustion. He pressed a trembling hand to his forehead before gripping his hair tightly, frustration bubbling to the surface.

’I’m a fucking idiot. What was I thinking?’

His voice was barely a whisper, but the self-loathing in it was suffocating.

’How could I be so naive? How could I forget what kind of situation I was in? No matter how much things change in this goddamn novel... Florian will still be neglected.’

For a fleeting mont, he had hoped—hoped that his actions had shifted sothing, that maybe, just maybe, his sacrifice had ant sothing. That the princesses would appreciate what he had done for them. That Heinz would acknowledge it and co for him.

That soone would.

But no one had.

’I should’ve listened to Lucius when he stopped ... Fuck.’

The realization settled like ice in his veins. ’Is this where it ends? Is this where I et the sa fate as the original Florian? Is this where I lose my freedom, where I lose my chance to get ho—because those fucking rogues are probably going to sell off to so disgusting noble?’

He swallowed hard, but the nausea remained. His stomach churned as dread curled its way up his spine, squeezing his lungs, making it harder to breathe. His body trembled, the weight of his own stupidity crushing him. He had been so sure, so convinced that his sacrifice would an sothing, that he would be saved.

And now he was alone.

Completely, utterly alone.

His fingers curled into the fabric of his pants, knuckles turning white as he fought against the oncoming wave of panic. His breathing grew shallow again, heart hamring against his ribs as he clutched his chest. His vision blurred at the edges, spots of darkness creeping in.

’No. No, I can’t afford this. I can’t afford to break now.’

He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to focus, to grasp at anything that could anchor him. His nightmare had left him reeling, but it also left him with sothing else—a warning. A reminder that despair wouldn’t save him.

His panic, his self-pity—none of it would change a damn thing.

A slow, shuddering breath left his lips. He pressed his hands against the cold, unforgiving floor, grounding himself. The fear still clawed at him, but beneath it, a flicker of sothing else erged.

Determination.

’I will return ho. I will return to Kaz. And if that’s impossible, then I’ll find a way. Any way. Anything to escape the cruel fate of dying once again.’

His heartbeat was still erratic, but his breathing steadied. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to push past the dread, to focus on what mattered.

He wasn’t going to die here.

’I owe it to the original Florian too.’

His lips parted slightly at the thought. The Florian from the novel—his fate had been nothing but pain, suffering, and betrayal. Kaz and Aden had written him to be nothing more than a tragic footnote, a character destined for heartbreak before his untily death at the hands of the very person he loved. His kidnapping was just the beginning of his misery.

’I refuse to share that fate.’

He pushed himself to his feet, shaking off the weakness clinging to his limbs. His eyes, though red-rimd and weary, burned with newfound resolve.

’I am not the real Florian. And I refuse to be.’

Straightening his shoulders, he dusted himself off, his hands clenching into fists. His fear was still there, lingering like a shadow. The weight of uncertainty still pressed against him, but he would not let it break him.

’If I have to fight, I will. If I have to manipulate my way out of this, I’ll do it. If I have to rip this entire goddamn story apart piece by piece, I will.’

A slow exhale. His heartbeat steadied.

’Because I refuse to let this world decide my fate.’