Florian's breath caught in his throat. Instinctively, he tucked a trembling hand against his chest, pressing his back flat to the wall.
His heart was pounding so hard he swore it would give him away.
He didn't move. He couldn't. He stayed still—listening. Waiting.
He waited until Asher's voice faded, until the echo of footsteps began to retreat down the corridor.
Only then did he dare to exhale, shaky and uneven.
'They have an agreement… for me. No— for Florian—to never go back to Floramatria?'
His thoughts spun wildly, every word hitting like a hammer to his ribs.
How long had Heinz been planning this? How much had he known?
'Did I make it too obvious? Was it because I spoke of Florian's family family too much, or because I hesitated when he asked me to stay?'
He felt sick.
All this time—he thought Heinz was trying. He thought the king's repentance, his apologies, his kneeling… meant something.
'He said he wanted to atone. He said he wanted to keep me safe.'
