'He... wants to go home?'
Heinz blinked.
For a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked from the room. Like his heart had been plucked from his chest and dropped into freezing water. He could almost feel the flicker of rage in his chest, hot and unstable.
Heinz could blow up the entire palace if he wasn't careful.
But he couldn't explode—not here, not now. He had to keep calm. Composed.
Only… he wasn't calm.
Not when everything in him was screaming.
Just last night, Heinz had come to a terrifying, exhilarating truth—he was in love with this Florian. This version. The stubborn, conflicted, dense, and brilliant prince in front of him.
He'd spent this time obsessing over the gaps in his memory, about the true identity of this Florian, about the mystery behind the first Florian's last words after he kissed Heinz.
He thought maybe, just maybe, the answer would come through this one.
And perhaps… in time, maybe this Florian could come to love him, too.
But now…
