CHAPTER 471: ’CRAZIER THAN BEFORE.’

Florian didn’t know what had just happened.

One moment, Heinz was holding him close—warm arms wrapped around him, lips pressed in hungry kisses—and the next, his body had started trembling.

Florian froze, eyes searching Heinz’s face.

It wasn’t the usual mask of authority or arrogance. It wasn’t the teasing smirk he’d grown used to.

It was pain.

Raw, unguarded pain.

And in that brief moment, it almost looked like Heinz might cry.

Florian kept calling to him, voice laced with concern. He wasn’t even sure who Heinz was hearing—

Because whatever Heinz was seeing, it wasn’t this room.

It wasn’t now.

The grip on Florian’s arm tightened—too much. His breath hitched as pain shot up to his shoulder. The bruising would come later, but already his skin burned where Heinz’s fingers dug in.

It was the first time in months that Heinz had hurt him, and even then... Heinz had never crossed into leaving an injury.

Why now?

’I wasn’t even able to ask him if what Hendrix said was true.’

By the time Florian found himself alone, night had already fallen.

After the strange, almost terrifying episode, Heinz had sent him to his room, insisting he stay there. Florian hadn’t argued. He’d also postponed his meeting with Athena and Scarlett until tomorrow—he didn’t have the strength for more today.

Hendrix’s sudden appearance.

Hearing his side of the story.

And now Heinz acting... crazier than before.

All in a single day?

It was one of the most eventful—and exhausting—days since Florian had woken up in this world.

God.

There were too many things to think about. Too many threads to untangle.

He was supposed to be done. All he had to do was find his way back to Kaz, and ensure the original Florian would be happy if he ever got his body back.

But... God, why did it feel like he couldn’t leave yet?

He wanted to be angry at Heinz—furious, even—after everything he’d learned. And yet, somewhere beneath the frustration, was a strange tug of pity.

He didn’t even know why.

Heinz hadn’t suffered the way the original Florian did.

The original had been pregnant. Heartbroken.

And Heinz? Heinz was blissfully unaware—or at least acting like he was.

Whether his ignorance was feigned or real... Florian couldn’t tell.

How could anyone forget nights of passion intense enough to lead to pregnancy?

Why did Heinz still torment Hendrix and his mother?

And why—more than anything—was Heinz starting to seem... human?

Why?

Florian’s fingers brushed over his bruised arm, the ache making him wince. "He isn’t even here," he murmured, eyes shifting to the empty side of the bed where Heinz usually slept, with Azure curled at his feet.

But even Azure was gone.

Heinz had taken him when he left.

And Florian had no idea where they were.

Florian had no one but the butterflies to keep him company, their delicate wings glinting faintly in the dim light as they fluttered above him in slow, lazy circles. The sight was peaceful—strangely so.

It struck him as odd.

He had slept alone far longer than he had ever shared a bed with Azure or Heinz. Solitude was nothing new to him. And yet, tonight, the stillness felt... heavier. Different.

Weirdly enough, he felt... a bit lonely.

He shifted beneath the blankets, trying to will himself to sleep. It was late, but the silence kept pressing in on him, and it was unlike Heinz to be gone from the room for so long after nightfall.

With the way Heinz had been acting since Hendrix appeared, that sudden change in routine gnawed at him.

’Is he really that affected by Hendrix’s presence?’ Florian thought.

He understood, of course, that Heinz hated Hendrix—truly hated him.

To Heinz, Hendrix’s existence was the very root of his and his mother’s suffering. And the fact that he had Hendrix executed once, only for Hendrix to remember...

Yes, Florian could understand Heinz’s frustration.

But this—this was different. Heinz was acting so... out of sorts.

Not in his usual "I am king, and I do as I please" way, but in a way that felt raw.

Unsteady.

If anything, Heinz seemed... emotional.

And Heinz was almost never emotional.

Florian let out a quiet sigh, his palm resting absently against his stomach as he stared at the ceiling above. "I feel so uncomfortable about this. Why the fuck am I uncomfortable?" he muttered to himself.

He should be glad to have the bed to himself. He should be relieved that Heinz wasn’t there.

He shouldn’t be worried.

Heinz could take care of himself. He was the most powerful man in the world—practically beneath a god in stature and strength.

And yet...

’Should I look for him?’

Florian’s gaze slid toward the door, lingering there for a moment, caught in indecision.

No.

Why would he look for Heinz?

Florian ruffled his hair in irritation, the strands falling messily across his forehead.

"Whatever. I’m sure he’ll appear tomorrow anyway. He’s probably off doing more work, or trying to throw a tantrum again," he muttered, his voice edged with sarcasm as he rolled onto his side. Closing his eyes, he willed his mind to shut off.

’He’s a grown man. He can do whatever he wants.’ he thought, squeezing his eyes shut as if forcing himself into sleep.

Silence.

Silence.

More silence.

Florian’s eyes snapped open. With an aggravated groan, he pushed himself upright, his hair falling in his face. "AGHH! I wanna sleep!" he shouted, his voice echoing faintly in the otherwise still room.

Nothing.

The only movement came from the glowing blue butterflies drifting lazily around him, their soft light brushing over his skin.

They seemed almost curious about his sudden outburst. Florian lifted a finger, and one of them—Mimiwing—delicately landed on it, her wings shimmering in the dim glow.

He took a slow, deep breath. Then another.

"Hah... really, it’s hard when this is the second time I’ve seen him look at me with that expression," he murmured, the weight of the memory pulling at his chest.

The first had been during his test, when they were alone together.

He couldn’t shake the feeling—that Heinz had been seeing something in him, something that pulled that rare expression from his face.

But again... why did he care?

Heinz was just being Heinz.

Complicated and mysterious.

Mimiwing’s wings beat in slow, hypnotic patterns, and Florian found himself staring at them, lulled by their rhythm.

"I’m suddenly feeling sleepy. Is that because of you, Mimiwing?" he mumbled, his eyelids drooping with every flicker of her wings.

The butterfly took flight, leaving his finger and drifting away, and Florian took the opportunity to sink back into the bed.

Still, there was a strange, restless feeling in his stomach—something between nervousness and unease. Whether it was the work of the butterflies or simple exhaustion, he couldn’t tell.

His eyes finally closed.

’I just hope he’s not doing anything reckless...’ he thought, surrendering at last to the pull of sleep.