After two long hours, Florian's lessons were finally over. The uncomfortable encounter with Freud lingered in his mind, but nothing else of note had happened during their session. He couldn't decide if he was overreacting, or if his instincts were right.
'Either way, I need to calm down. I'm being too sensitive.'
Thankfully, Freud hadn't seemed to notice—or care—and carried on with the lessons as if nothing was amiss. He wrapped up the session without any further unwelcome touches, which was a relief in itself.
Now, Florian was heading to his etiquette class, which Cashew had assured him was only a short walk from the study room.
'Good thing Lucius was called away by the gardeners,' Florian thought as he walked. 'I managed to send Cashew off to gather more information.'
Yesterday's attempt to uncover anything useful had been fruitless, but Florian had high hopes for today. He'd even asked Cashew to keep an eye on the princesses to gather intel for his reports to Heinz.
'I still need a game plan for collecting all the required information about them without drawing too much attention to myself,' Florian thought with a sigh, his steps slowing as his thoughts piled up.
It was only his second day in this world, and already, Florian felt the weight of his new reality pressing down on him. But, in all fairness, most of his suffering was his own doing—or rather, his and Kaz's. Florian was written to be a tragic character.
In Kaz's own words, he was "a tragically beautiful prince."
It had been Aden's job to make sure Florian's experiences and trauma were written well. Now, in a cruel twist of fate, everything they had carefully crafted was happening to him.
'Maybe this is God punishing me for letting my underage sister write this trash,' Florian thought with a dry chuckle. But even as he tried to find humor in his situation, his mind drifted to something else—memories from the original Florian.
Yesterday, he'd experienced glimpses of Florian's past, feeling emotions that weren't his own. For a fleeting moment, he'd even lost control of his words and actions.
"From Kaz's other works and the stuff she read, there are a few different scenarios for transmigration," Florian mumbled as he walked, organizing his thoughts.
The first scenario was a soul swap—the transmigrator and the character's soul switched places entirely.
The second scenario was that the character's soul disappeared completely, leaving only their memories and feelings behind in the body.
The third was that the transmigrator became the character, their soul anchoring the world and its existence.
And lastly, the fourth scenario: the character's soul remained trapped in the body, witnessing everything the transmigrator did, and vice versa.
Based on Florian's experience, it seemed like it could either be the second or fourth scenario. It was hard to determine right now, but he knew he'd have to keep observing himself—and his interactions with the male leads, the supporting characters, and Heinz.
'Hah. Surviving as the main character is such a chore. I almost miss my terrible job.'
He sighed dejectedly, turning the corner toward the drawing room where his etiquette teacher, the "duchess," was waiting.
But he froze in his tracks at the sound of a hushed voice.
"O-oh… sir, not here. Someone might see."
Florian's eyes widened. 'Was that… what I think it was?'
"Everyone's busy preparing. It's just you and me in these halls, gorgeous," came a man's reply, followed by a muffled giggle and a moan from the woman.
Florian's face turned red as he tried to pinpoint the source of the sounds. And then he saw them.
In a secluded corner, a man with brown hair was pressing a maid against the wall. His back was to Florian, so he couldn't make out his face, but the armor he wore made it clear he was a knight.
'And from the way he's acting, a shameless one at that,' Florian thought, his mortification growing.
The maid's legs were hitched up high, the knight gripping her thigh as if they were moments away from losing all restraint.
Florian's stomach churned. He'd never experienced anything remotely intimate. Editing BL smut for Kaz was the closest he'd ever come, and that had been more than enough. His respect for his sister had kept him from ever considering pornography, and between work and life, he'd never had time for a girlfriend, let alone anything else.
In short, Florian was a virgin—through and through.
'Ugh. What the hell do I do? They're blocking the way to my class.' He groaned inwardly, debating his options. 'Should I just skip etiquette lessons? No, that'll definitely have consequences. Damn it!'
His face burned as he tried to look anywhere but at them, though the maid's gasps and the knight's low murmurs made that nearly impossible.
"O-oh, sir… that… that feels nice."
"Yeah? You like that? I can give you more if you—"
"Ahem." Florian cleared his throat loudly, stepping closer to them.
The maid let out a startled yelp, scrambling to push the knight away.
"Y-your Highness! This… this isn't what it looks like!" she stammered, her face pale.
"Isn't it?" Florian said flatly, keeping his gaze averted as he heard the frantic rustling of clothes.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed the maid fixing her appearance, but the knight remained disturbingly still, his back still to Florian.
"P-please, Your Highness," the maid begged, stepping closer to Florian, her voice trembling. "Don't tell Sir Lucius… or His Majesty. I… I'll—"
'I never planned to,' Florian thought, raising a hand to stop the maid's panicked pleas. Without saying another word, he gestured for her to leave.
Her tear-stained eyes widened, darting between Florian and the silent knight. After a moment of hesitation, she bowed her head deeply.
"T-thank you, Your Highness!" she exclaimed before turning and fleeing down the hall, her footsteps fading quickly into the distance. She didn't even glance back.
Florian sighed, now left alone with the silent, towering figure of the knight.
Though he hadn't yet seen the man's face, Florian had a sinking suspicion of who he was. As he got closer earlier, the armor's distinct design had caught his attention, and now the knight's casual brazenness in doing that out in the open all but confirmed it.
'Of course, it's him. Just my luck,' Florian thought.
A low chuckle broke the silence.
"Hah. Your Highness," the knight drawled, his tone tinged with annoyance, "is this your way of getting revenge?" He ran a hand through his tousled brown hair before slowly turning to face Florian.
The moment their eyes met—those piercing orange eyes—Florian's suspicion became certainty.
'There's no doubt about it.'
The knight smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just because I refused to play along with your little scheme to make His Majesty jealous," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm, "doesn't mean you can go around disrupting my fun."
"Sir Lancelot," Florian said evenly, his expression neutral despite the swirl of emotions within. "When did you return?"
It was the second male lead.