CHAPTER 444: ’THERE WERE TWO.’

After Florian agreed to be escorted by Heinz, he seemed to relax all at once—as if a heavy burden had finally lifted from his shoulders.

It didn’t take long for the prince to drift off to sleep, his breathing soft and steady as he curled beside Azure, the little blue dragon nestled against him like a loyal guardian.

Heinz sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze never straying from the peaceful look on Florian’s face. The glow from the nearby lamp flickered faintly across the boy’s delicate features.

"Florian?" Heinz called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

There was no response.

Only Azure raised his head at the sound, letting out a quiet, questioning chirp. "Kraa?"

Heinz gave a faint smile, but his voice remained firm. "I’ll be stepping out for a bit, Azure. Do not leave his side, no matter what. Kill anyone who dares come into this room. Understood?"

The dragon blinked, then nodded, his long body sliding even closer to Florian, tucking himself more securely into the prince’s warmth. Protective. Possessive.

Heinz’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight, not out of annoyance—but realization.

’How could I have been so blind...?’ he wondered, a quiet, bitter laugh caught in his chest.

’The moment Azure took a liking to him... I should’ve known.’

Azure was a creature of instincts, powerful and ancient. He didn’t trust easily. He didn’t warm up to people—ever. Not unless Heinz himself did.

They were bonded after all, deeply and intrinsically.

Azure had his own thoughts and autonomy, yes, but at the heart of it, he still reflected Heinz’s own emotions.

If Azure adored Florian this much, it meant something Heinz hadn’t admitted until now—he’d felt that way for longer than he wanted to admit.

A soft sigh escaped his lips. He reached out, brushing his fingers gently through Florian’s lilac hair, admiring how soft it felt even in sleep.

"I’ll be back soon," he murmured quietly, as if making a promise.

With one last lingering look, Heinz stood, wrapping himself in a dark robe, heavy with embroidered gold. He didn’t feel like walking. Not tonight. Not when time was precious and questions still lingered in the air.

With a pulse of magic, the room around him twisted and vanished. He teleported.

The transition was instant.

He reappeared in the palace infirmary—quiet, cold, and lined with the scent of herbs and ink.

There was a loud gasp.

"Concordia Almighty!" someone exclaimed, followed by a thud as someone clearly fell over in surprise.

Heinz turned calmly toward the sound.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," Lysander greeted him with a calm smile, barely phased. Afton, on the other hand, scrambled upright from where he’d fallen to the floor, brushing off his coat and quickly bowing.

"G-Good evening, Your Majesty," Afton stammered, trying to compose himself.

Heinz gave a brief nod. "He’s doing alright," he said, answering the question before it could be asked. "Better than expected. Almost... too well. He’s not showing any obvious signs of trauma that you mentioned. If anything, he seems more like himself. That said, he’s still guarded. He flinches sometimes, and overthinks but that’s somehow still like him."

Afton nodded slowly, thoughtful. "Understandable. But still... odd," he said carefully. "I’ve been waiting to speak with you precisely because of that. Most cases like Prince Florian—especially considering what he went through—would have developed some form of severe trauma. PTSD. Disassociation. But he’s... lucid

."

Heinz moved to sit near the desk, his expression unreadable. Lysander and Afton followed, each settling into a seat opposite him.

"You think it’s abnormal?" Heinz asked, watching the physician closely. "Is something wrong with him?"

Afton hesitated, adjusting his glasses. "Yes and no. It’s not impossible for someone to recover quickly from trauma, but it’s extremely rare. Especially not after what he experienced. His body shut down entirely during the event. For someone that fragile to awaken and carry on like nothing happened—it defies expectation."

Heinz leaned back, resting his arm along the side of the chair. "You think there’s something we’re missing."

Afton looked hesitant. "I could say more if you’d tell me more about his inner self—the one you saw during his paralyzed state. You mentioned it, briefly, when he first woke up. But I imagine you’ve been too focused on him to explain fully."

Heinz exhaled slowly, rubbing the space between his brows. Right. That.

Since Florian awoke, Heinz had barely let the boy out of his sight. He hadn’t made time to discuss the inner realm he’d visited, the real Florian he met there. The prince who watches inside, who remembers their first life.

The one trapped.

But he hadn’t forgotten. Not a second of it.

’There’s still so much I don’t know. But Afton... he might be the key.’

Especially, the gaps in his memories and how to unlock them.

"Would..." Heinz exhaled sharply, running a hand through his long black hair, pushing the strands back as he gathered his thoughts. "...Would it make sense if I said that I saw two of him in there?"

His voice was low, hesitant. Even as the words left his mouth, they felt absurd.

Unbelievable.

He wasn’t sure how to explain what he had seen within Florian’s mind—that strange, fragmented place where time seemed to fold and emotions bled into one another.

There was no simple way to say it. No way to just state that inside Florian’s mind, he had encountered not one, but two Florians—two versions of the boy he now held so dear right now. And the other—the Florian who Heinz knew from his first life. The original.

’There were two souls...’

He’d seen the original. Spoken to him. He still remembered the way the original Florian looked at him. With so much grief, hatred, and love.

"Two... of His Highness?" Lysander repeated, his brow raised in slight disbelief, trying to remain respectful despite the skepticism laced in his voice.

Heinz nodded once, firmly.

The room fell into a brief silence. Judging by the frown tugging at Lysander’s lips, the concept was as foreign to him as Heinz feared. Perhaps it was impossible.

Perhaps Heinz had misunderstood.

Perhaps—

But then Afton stirred.

Unlike Lysander, his face had changed completely—his brows lifted, eyes glimmering with sudden realization. There was no confusion there. If anything, he looked fascinated.

"Your Majesty," Afton began, voice soft but eager, "if I may ask... please, tell me more. These two personalities—what were they like? What did they say? Were you able to speak to both?"

He leaned forward as he spoke, eyes sharp behind his glasses, more like a scholar in a moment of revelation than a palace doctor. Heinz blinked. The difference between Lysander’s confusion and Afton’s clear intrigue was startling.

’So he does know something.’

Still, Heinz grimaced. Afton looked entirely too fascinated for comfort, as if he’d been waiting for this answer for a long time.

But Heinz needed answers—he needed understanding.

So, despite the strangeness, he nodded and began to speak.