CHAPTER 508: ’CREAM ON TOP OF THE CAKE?’

"You really had us worried there, Your Highness."

Florian heard Drizelous’s voice behind him, calm but edged with relief, as careful hands worked through his hair.

Florian’s gaze, however, was locked on the mirror in front of him—on the pale reflection staring back.

His own face looked hollow, shadowed beneath the eyes, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to him like smoke.

"To think you’d get a nightmare just hours before your ball," Drizelous added, his fingers moving with practiced ease, taming his unruly strands into neat order.

"Are you sure you’re okay, Your Highness?" Cashew asked softly from the side.

He was perched close, Azure nestled in his arms, the little dragon’s eyes glimmering with worry as it tilted its head.

Florian forced himself to nod, though his smile came slow and brittle.

"I’m fine. It was just... a scary nightmare, that’s all." His voice was steady, but his hand betrayed him—slipping instinctively to his stomach, fingers pressing against where the phantom ache still lingered.

’I know the baby didn’t die because he still kept drinking on Heinz’s birthday, but...’

The thought twisted, raw and bitter.

’It only proves the original kept trying. Again and again. He loved the baby, but he still tried to kill it... out of fear.’

Florian’s chest tightened, the heartbreak sharper than any nightmare.

’How could love and despair exist in the same breath?’

And worse—this wasn’t the first time. The original Florian had already appeared in his dreams once before. And now, again.

Drizelous, as if sensing the heaviness in the air, suddenly clapped his hands together. "Don’t you worry, Your Highness!" he declared brightly, his tone like sunlight cutting through storm clouds. "I’ll make you extra pretty today. No—beyond pretty. I need you to be the most breathtaking person in that ballroom."

He leaned forward, seizing Florian’s chin gently but firmly and tilting his face toward the mirror. "With the outfit I made for you... and the way I’ll style your hair and makeup—trust me, perhaps entire kingdoms would start a war just for you." His grin was nothing short of wicked pride.

Despite the ache twisting inside him, Florian let out a soft chuckle, unable to fight the corners of his lips tugging upward.

The absurdity, the warmth—it eased something in his chest. "Let me see what you’ve got then," he said, voice lighter this time.

Drizelous smirked knowingly, his eyes glittering with mischief and confidence. "Oh, you’ll see, Your Highness. And when you do—every single person in that hall will forget how to breathe."

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

"Drizelous..."

Florian’s whisper was almost inaudible, caught between awe and disbelief as he stared at his own reflection.

"Yes?" Drizelous leaned closer, their faces nearly pressed together, both of them gazing into the mirror as though the glass had transformed into some sacred window.

His lips curved with a mischievous knowingness.

Cashew’s eyes widened, his words stumbling out in shock. "Your Highness, you..."

Even Azure let out a soft croak—"Kraa..."—the little dragon’s voice carrying a strangely affectionate tone, its gaze fixed on Florian like a creature enchanted.

’Isn’t this dangerous?’ Florian thought, his chest tightening as his eyes widened at the figure staring back at him.

He looked... beautiful.

No—too beautiful.

The original Florian—his body, whatever one called it—had always been attractive. Even in the novel, that was part of the problem.

Men were left speechless, entranced. Women, no less captivated, often oscillated between envy and obsession. Florian was never simply handsome. He was a temptation that unsettled all who saw him.

But this... this was something beyond.

Drizelous had made the impossible possible. He had turned beauty into something ethereal, dangerous, divine. The mirror no longer showed a young prince—it reflected a vision that looked as though it had stepped out of legend.

It was... like magic.

"I know," Drizelous purred, his eyes glinting like a predator’s as he admired his own work. "I’m such a genius, right?"

Florian could only stare, his breath shallow, as though words themselves had abandoned him. "How are you just a tailor? Do you not want to consider being a hairdresser—or a makeup artist?"

"Darling." Drizelous straightened, flicking his fingers with dramatic flair. "I don’t usually do

hair and makeup. I do it exclusively for you."

His grin sharpened, his voice dripping with pride. "And trust me, this is only the cream. The cake..." He pivoted on his heel, gesturing toward the large box he had brought earlier that morning.

"...is your outfit."

The air seemed to shift.

Florian’s curiosity stirred instantly, a nervous anticipation pricking beneath his skin. Cashew leaned forward slightly, his arms tightening around Azure, who peered with equal fascination.

"This is the first time I’m seeing your birthday outfit," Cashew admitted, his voice tinged with awe.

Florian gave a slow nod, lips parting. "You and me both."

Drizelous laughed, the sound bubbling with mischief and pride. "Well, of course I’m always the first to see what I create—I am the one who makes it."

His hands moved over the box with exaggerated grace, fingers brushing along the lid as though savoring the suspense. "But this time... I must thank His Majesty. Because there were certain details only he could provide."

Florian arched an eyebrow. "And that is?"

Drizelous smirked, a secret twinkling in his eyes as he slowly beckoned Florian closer.

Florian’s pulse quickened. His legs carried him forward almost on instinct, each step heavy with expectation. Cashew shifted, leaning forward, watching with unblinking attention. Even Azure gave a soft trill, tail curling tighter around Cashew’s wrist.

The box creaked open.

Silk and shimmer spilled into the light like liquid stars.

Florian leaned over, peeking inside—

And froze. His breath hitched sharply, eyes going wide. His jaw slackened in shock.

’No fucking way.’

As soon as Drizelous caught sight of Florian’s slack-jawed expression, his grin stretched wider—almost dangerously so. "Time to put the cream on top of the cake," he teased, his voice low and playful, "or however the saying goes."

Before Florian could even react, Drizelous moved like quicksilver, reaching for him with hands that were firm yet gentle, lifting him with ease.

Florian froze, caught between awe and panic, his eyes wide as he tried to process what was happening.

’NO FUCKING WAY?!’