"I'M SAVING MYSELF FOR MARRIAGE!" Florian blurted, the words echoing through the room like a bomb detonating.
Lucius froze mid-motion, his sharp golden eyes widening ever so slightly. For a moment, the usually unflappable head butler looked genuinely startled. "Pardon?" he asked, his calm voice betraying a note of shock.
Florian slapped both hands over his mouth, his face burning so hot he swore it could rival the heat of the Concordian sun.
'Oh my God. What did I just say? Why did I say THAT?!'
The silence that followed was unbearable. Lucius tilted his head slightly, his piercing gaze fixed on Florian as though trying to process what he'd just heard. Florian, unable to bear the weight of the quiet, panicked and did what he always did best in stressful situations—he kept talking.
"I-I've been reflecting!" he stammered, dropping his hands as his words spilled out in a frantic, jumbled mess. "A lot! On… life! My choices! And I've realized that my body is, uh, sacred! Yes! Sacred! A temple, even! And I just— I can't— It wouldn't be right to just… you know… give it away!"
Lucius blinked, his expression shifting from shock to something subtler. His lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smile threatening to appear. But he said nothing, just continued to listen, which only made Florian's babbling worse.
"So I've decided!" Florian continued, his voice climbing in pitch. "That I'm saving myself! For my future spouse! Whoever they are! Which, by the way, is not you! Not that there's anything wrong with you! You're great! Very responsible!" He gestured wildly, his hands flailing in a desperate attempt to emphasize… something. Anything.
"I mean, I respect you! A lot! But I respect myself too, you know? And my virtue! Which is why I've made this commitment to purity!"
Lucius didn't say a word, but the sharp glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. He shifted slightly, leaning back just enough to give Florian a sliver of space, but his calm, unyielding gaze remained locked on him.
'Why is he just standing there?' Florian thought, his mortification reaching critical levels. 'Say something! Laugh! Judge me! Anything but this infuriating silence!'
"And another thing!" Florian pressed on, his mouth running faster than his brain. "I wanted to apologize! For my… uh… previous behavior! Throwing myself at you—well, not literally, but you know what I mean! I was out of line! It was shameful! But I swear, I've changed! I've had an epiphany! A revelation! I'm a new person now!"
Lucius's lips parted slightly, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. The sound was like a lifeline, and Florian nearly sobbed with relief.
The door creaked open, and Cashew stepped inside. "Your Highness—oh," the young servant said, freezing mid-step as his wide purple eyes darted between Florian and Lucius. His expression quickly shifted from confusion to alarm.
'Cashew!' Florian thought, his entire body sagging with relief. 'Oh thank God, it's you!'
"Perfect timing," Lucius said smoothly, stepping back from Florian as though nothing unusual had happened. His tone was calm, but the faintest trace of amusement lingered in his eyes. "Please see to it that His Highness is dressed and prepared for the tea party immediately."
Cashew blinked, clearly unsure of what he'd just walked in on, but nodded obediently. "Y-Yes, Sir Lucius."
Lucius glanced at Florian one last time, his gaze unreadable. With a slight bow, he added, "I'll be waiting outside," before turning and exiting the room.
The door clicked shut, and Florian collapsed into his chair with a loud groan, burying his face in his hands.
"A-Are you okay, Your Highness?"
"Kill me now," he mumbled, his voice muffled by his palms.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Lucius stepped out of Florian's room, the door clicking softly shut behind him. The quiet corridor stretched before him, the faint hum of activity from the distant halls barely audible. His polished boots echoed lightly as he walked, hands clasped neatly behind his back.
His thoughts, however, remained fixed on Florian.
Ever since the prince had arrived in Concordia, he had been an enigma wrapped in desperation. Rejected outright by the king the very moment he set foot in the palace, Florian hadn't retreated or sulked as many might have expected.
No, instead, he'd set his sights on Lucius.
Lucius's lips pressed into a thin line as he recalled the prince's awkward, almost clumsy attempts at seduction. There had been no subtlety in them, no artful manipulation.
They weren't driven by lust, unlike the hungry gazes Lucius was used to enduring from the princesses and other women. Florian's efforts had been desperate and sad—a plea for validation rather than desire.
And yet…
Lucius let out a quiet breath, his eyes narrowing slightly. He couldn't deny there had been moments when he felt drawn to the melancholy behind Florian's actions. He despised it, that flicker of attraction. It was a weakness—a crack in the impenetrable armor he'd built for himself.
He shook his head lightly, dismissing the thought as his mind drifted to the events of the morning.
The king.
Heinz had always been indifferent to Florian, treating him as little more than a decorative nuisance. Yet earlier, in the throne room, Heinz had done something entirely out of character—he had called Florian out, forcing him to kneel in front of the entire harem.
It had been unexpected, to say the least. But even more surprising was Florian's reaction afterward.
Lucius had expected a weeping mess of a prince, crumpled in his chambers, begging for consolation or attention. Instead, Florian had thanked him. Genuinely, sincerely.
It didn't add up.
The king had thought so too. After the announcement, Heinz had summoned Lucius privately.
"Observe him," Heinz had ordered, his crimson eyes sharp and narrowed. "He's acting… different. Find out why."
Lucius had been confused at the time. Why would the king suddenly concern himself with someone he had barely acknowledged since his arrival? But Lucius hadn't questioned the command.
Obedience was second nature.
And, truth be told, he wanted to observe Florian.
The prince had changed. From the moment he woke up from his concussion the other day, he had been acting… strange. Lucius had decided to test him today, stepping into his chambers unannounced, fully aware that Cashew was absent.
And what he discovered was even more curious than he anticipated.
Florian wasn't just different. He was composed. He was cautious. He was easily embarrassed. And he said the most intriguing things.
Lucius's lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile forming as the memory replayed in his mind. He raised a gloved hand to his mouth, hiding the small smirk in case anyone happened to pass by.
"Saving himself for marriage," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with quiet amusement. "How… unexpected."
He leaned back against the wall beside the door, his golden eyes glinting with curiosity. Whatever had changed Florian, it wasn't gradual. It had been abrupt, sharp, and entirely out of character. A mystery worth unraveling.
Lucius straightened as the door creaked open. Florian stepped out, his cheeks still faintly pink, his gaze flitting anywhere but Lucius's face. His attire was markedly different—more conservative, with far less exposed skin. Cashew followed closely behind, the boy keeping his eyes fixed on the ground, clutching a small bag of supplies.
Lucius's gaze flickered over Florian, noting the way his posture was slightly stiff, the lingering embarrassment evident in the way he avoided looking directly at him.
"Shall we go?" Lucius asked, his tone even.
Florian gave a quick nod, clearly eager to move on. Cashew trailed after them, his footsteps light but hesitant.
As they began walking, Lucius allowed his thoughts to wander once more. He would need to watch Florian closely. In the past, convincing the prince to attend the weekly tea party had been an exercise in futility. Florian had always refused, citing excuses or outright ignoring the invitations.
Yet today, he agreed.
Lucius glanced at Florian out of the corner of his eye. The prince's expression was hard to read—an unusual mix of discomfort and determination.
'How strange,' Lucius thought, his curiosity deepening. 'What changed you, Your Highness?'
Whatever the reason, Lucius intended to find out.