"Me?"
The word fell between them like a stone sinking into deep water. Florian barely breathed, his pulse hammering as his mind scrambled to process what he had just heard.
That couldn't be possible.
But then… everything was starting to make sense. And at the same time, it didn't.
In the novel, the rogues had always planned to take the princesses. That was how the story unfolded—how it was supposed to unfold. The only reason Florian had been taken was because he had volunteered.
So why was Levi acting like Florian had always been the target?
His thoughts whirled. Charles hadn't needed much convincing. If anything, he had seemed a little too willing. At the time, Florian had brushed it off as mere fascination—an unexpected moment of luck.
But was it?
His throat felt tight as he asked, voice careful, measured, "What… changed exactly?"
