"Call my name once you're done or if you need anything, Your Highness." Cashew bowed deeply, his small hands carefully gripping the towel he carried, before turning to leave. The bathroom door creaked as he pulled it open, the echoes swallowed by the vast marble chamber.
"Thank you, Cashew," Florian replied with a faint smile. The door clicked shut behind Cashew, leaving Florian alone in the opulent bathroom. He glanced around at the extravagant surroundings—golden faucets, intricately carved basins, and a tub large enough to swim in.
With a deep breath, he quickly began unbuttoning his satin pajamas, the smooth fabric slipping through his fingers. The top came off first, then the pants, both pooling on the ground in an unceremonious heap.
'I wonder if I'll ever get used to seeing myself naked… when this isn't even my body.' His gaze dropped instinctively, but he stopped himself short, diverting his eyes. Even now, a full day since waking up in this world, the sight of it—his new anatomy—made him cringe internally.
It wasn't shame. It was discomfort, a gnawing disconnection between who he was and what he now inhabited.
Shaking off the thought, Florian stepped into the tub, the glowing water swirling and bubbling like something out of a fairytale. Steam rose in delicate spirals, carrying a faint lavender scent that was both calming and surreal.
"Ah… that feels nice," he murmured, sinking into the warmth until it enveloped him completely. The tension in his muscles began to melt away as he leaned back, closing his eyes. "Finally, I can relax a bit."
This was his first real moment of peace, a chance to think clearly without the looming chaos of the day. A full day. That was all it had been since he woke up and realized he was living inside Kaz's novel.
'I was way too overconfident when I realized where I was… just because I edited and proofread this crap.' He ran a hand through his long hair, the wet strands slipping through his fingers. His head fell back against the edge of the tub as he sighed. 'But I only skimmed the important parts. I forgot Kaz stuffed it with all this menial, day-to-day royal fantasy nonsense.'
"At least now I know I should only trust Cashew when it comes to this," he muttered aloud, letting the warm water lap against his skin.
Cashew.
The boy had been nothing but obedient and supportive since Florian woke up here. It surprised him, really, how unquestioning Cashew was.
'It's probably because he's a servant. He's either naively following orders or just used to the original Florian being spontaneous and erratic—whether it's good or bad.' Florian couldn't decide which it was, but either way, he was grateful.
"Even after what happened yesterday with Heinz…" he murmured.
Heinz.
The name made his stomach clench. He hated how things had played out yesterday. All he wanted was to explore and gather information—to figure out where he was in the timeline of the story. Instead, fate had thrown him straight into the path of the one person most likely to have him executed.
And if that wasn't enough, their second encounter had triggered a memory from the original Florian. A memory that came with a rush of foreign emotions, so strong they had overtaken him.
'And to top it all off, I lost control and spewed out a load of bullshit.' He grimaced at the thought. Yet, somehow, in the midst of that disaster, he had managed to cobble together an idea.
"Helping the king find a bride in exchange for my freedom?" Florian smirked, a mix of pride and disbelief in his tone. "Yeah, I'm a genius. It takes him off my back and makes it less likely for him to kill me for pestering him."
In the novel, Heinz had Florian executed for treason—a crime the original Florian hadn't even committed. But that hardly mattered. The king's decision had been the culmination of countless offenses. Florian had humiliated himself repeatedly, disrupted Heinz's work, and engaged in scandalous behavior, including sleeping with Heinz's younger half-brother, Hendrix.
That final act had been the breaking point.
But why hadn't Heinz just sent him back to his kingdom?
'Pride.' Florian's lips twisted bitterly. 'The pride of a king.'
He swirled the water absentmindedly, his mind racing. 'I've already started apologizing—first to Lucius, then to Heinz. I don't plan to seduce Lancelot, and I sure as hell won't sleep with Hendrix. If I can avoid repeating Florian's mistakes, maybe I can rewrite this story.'
Still, several concerns lingered.
First, the looming threat of future troubles. The harem's kidnapping, assaults, and dangers for Florian beyond Heinz or the other male leads.
Second, the mystery of the original Florian. Where was he now? And why had his memories—those flashes of emotion—overwhelmed him like that? What triggered it?
And finally…
"Heinz hasn't given me an answer yet," Florian muttered, his voice echoing softly in the steamy chamber.
"Please let me return to my kingdom."
Florian's words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing down like an anchor.
Heinz didn't respond immediately. He simply stood there, his imposing figure framed by the dim light, his expression unreadable. Florian's heart raced, his nerves fraying with each second of silence. The fact that Heinz hadn't grabbed him by the collar or struck him down was a sliver of hope, but it wasn't enough to calm the storm inside him.
He swallowed hard, his hand moving instinctively to his neck, massaging it in an effort to steady himself.
'Please say yes. Please agree. Just let me go,' Florian pleaded silently, every ounce of his focus channeled into willing the king to grant his request.
The seconds dragged, stretching into what felt like an eternity. He tried to convince himself that Heinz's silence was a good sign. If the king intended to kill him, wouldn't he have done it by now? But the doubt lingered, gnawing at his resolve.
'Why isn't he saying anything? Just do something—anything! At least tell me I'm wrong. Yell at me. Give me a sign!'
Finally, Heinz broke the silence.
"I will think about it," he said, his voice colder than ice, devoid of any emotion.
The words struck Florian like a slap—not quite rejection, but far from the agreement he had been praying for.
Heinz moved with calculated precision, sliding his sword back into its sheath. The sharp click echoed in the space between them, a sound that sent a shiver down Florian's spine. Without another glance, Heinz turned on his heel, his long hair swaying as he strode away with the poise of a man who commanded absolute authority.
He didn't say another word.
Florian stood frozen in place, watching the king disappear into the distance. Only then did he dare to exhale, his shoulders sagging under the weight of relief mixed with uncertainty.
"He didn't say no… but he didn't say yes, either," Florian muttered to himself, the words barely audible over the faint echo of water lapping at the edges of the tub. He let out a long sigh, the tension in his chest easing slightly. It wasn't the definitive answer he'd hoped for, but it was something.
'It's a start,' he thought, sinking back against the smooth curve of the tub. His muscles ached with exhaustion—not just from the physical strain of the other day.
His first day in this world had been productive, yes, but also nerve-wracking and utterly draining. Every word he'd spoken, every step he'd taken, felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of vipers.
'I don't know how I'm going to survive another day of this,' he admitted to himself, the weight of uncertainty pressing down like a stone. 'But I have to. There's no other choice.'
The thought of giving up wasn't even an option. Not when the stakes were this high. Not when his very life hung in the balance.
'Still… I need to pace myself,' he reminded himself, running a hand through his wet hair. 'I have to take things slow. If I let this overwhelm me again, I won't make it. One step at a time, Florian. One step at a time.'
He closed his eyes, letting the soothing warmth of the glowing water seep into his skin. It was a small comfort, but one he desperately needed.
"Starting with this breakfast," he murmured, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
With that, Florian plunged himself deeper into the bathtub, submerging completely. The warm water wrapped around him like a cocoon, muffling the chaos of the outside world. For a moment, it was just him, the water, and a fragile sense of peace.
'I wonder how Kaz is doing...'