CHAPTER 509: ’GOLD, GOLD, AND MORE GOLD.’

"Drizelous, what..."

Florian’s voice trailed off as his eyes fell on himself in the mirror.

His breath caught, his reflection so foreign yet breathtaking that for a moment, he almost didn’t recognize the man staring back.

His gaze flicked to Drizelous, then to Cashew—whose mouth hung slightly open—and even to Azure, who practically vibrated with excitement, stars dancing in its wide eyes.

Florian swallowed.

He was... well, he was beautiful.

The outfit was unlike anything he’d ever worn, intricate and radiant. It was surprising, and a little too showy but those were the least of his worries.

It wasn’t that it was bad.

He was simply... confused.

"Your Highness, you look so..." Cashew breathed, blinking rapidly, as though words alone weren’t enough. "...so beautiful."

"Kraa." Azure croaked, nodding eagerly, wings flaring out as if in applause.

Drizelous smirked knowingly, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction. "He’s not just beautiful, darlings." He sauntered forward, carrying something Florian hadn’t expected at all.

A sleek, black box.

"He’s ethereal."

Florian blinked, recognition hitting him in a rush as Drizelous opened it. Inside, lined neatly, were not one—but ten—rings of pure gold, glinting under the light. One for each finger.

Heinz’s gift.

’That’s... excessive...’ Florian thought, his chest tightening, his fingers twitching with unease. He had thought the outfit itself was already too much.

Black fabric, sleek and tailored, clung to his frame, cut in a way that exposed the lines of his waist and stomach, only to be swallowed again by cascades of golden chains that draped and looped across his body.

Gems sparkled faintly in the candlelight, blues and deep reds catching the glow as if stars themselves had been trapped within the ornaments.

The intricate belt at his hips gleamed, the centerpiece heavy with carved metal and gemstones.

’It’s like a golden monster threw up on my outfit.’

Now, golden rings too? He already felt like he would blind anyone who dared to look at him.

He was afraid to move, as though even breathing too hard might tarnish the gilded perfection Drizelous had trapped him in.

Drizelous’s grin widened at Florian’s stunned expression, clearly savoring it. "His Majesty actually asked me what he should get you as a gift," he said smoothly, his tone like velvet. "And, of course, I suggested this."

He winked as he tilted the box forward, the rings gleaming like captured sunlight.

’So you were the culprit.’ Florian thought bitterly, his lips twitching as he tried not to scowl.

"Isn’t this... too much?" Florian asked, his voice uneasy. "I’m already covered in... gold."

"Oh, that’s sad." Drizelous sighed dramatically, his tone laced with theatrical disappointment.

"Sad?" Florian echoed, brows knitting.

"It’s sad," Drizelous said, almost pouting, "that you believe this is already too much." His tone shifted into playful laughter as he plucked the first ring from the box.

Without hesitation, he took Florian’s hand and began sliding each ring onto his fingers with deliberate precision, one by one, like a craftsman adorning his masterpiece.

"If it were up to all of us, you’d have more gold. But knowing you..." His smirk returned, sharp as a blade.

Florian furrowed his brows, trying to resist, but each cold band of gold tightened around his fingers until all ten were crowned in gold. His eyes drifted back to the mirror.

He froze.

’I do look amazing...’ His lips parted slightly as the thought spilled unbidden. ’Despite the fact that the outfit is so showy... and the veil...’

He tilted his head, studying the gossamer fabric draped over him, falling from his shoulders in delicate waves.

’It makes me look like I’m getting married. If it had been white instead of—’

His thoughts cut off sharply.

"Hold on." He turned, whipping toward Drizelous, suspicion clear in his eyes. "If this is Floramatrian clothing... why am I wearing black, red, and gold?"

Drizelous chuckled, low and amused, his eyes glinting like a fox who knew more than he would ever say. "Is that really a question?"

"Yes?" Florian answered, though his voice tilted upward like a question, unsure and cautious.

"Oh, my beautiful but dense muse," Drizelous crooned, leaning in with that maddening grin as his fingers delicately adjusted the crimson veil draped across

Florian’s shoulders. The fabric shimmered like liquid fire, catching the candlelight with every small movement. "You’ll figure it out on your own eventually. Gods above, just look at you—His Majesty is going to eat you alive. You’re absolutely gorgeous."

Florian flushed, shifting uneasily in place, the heavy gold rings weighing down his hands as if tethering him to the moment.

"Speaking of..." he murmured, glancing around the chamber. "I haven’t seen him the whole day?"

"Ah, that." Drizelous chuckled, giving the veil one last satisfied tug before stepping back to admire his work. "Didn’t I mention it? Or maybe I didn’t. But yes, I told him he shouldn’t see you at all until the ball. You both needed some distance—so that when you do see each other again, my masterpiece—"

He gestured dramatically at Florian, as if unveiling a painting "—will look even more beautiful."

Florian blinked. His lips pressed together as a wry thought crossed his mind.

’Now he’s really making it sound like we’re getting married.’

He sighed softly and let his gaze drift to Cashew, who was still rooted in place, staring at him as though he had been carved from starlight itself.

The young teen’s eyes glistened faintly, his admiration so palpable it made Florian’s skin prickle with self-consciousness.

"Aren’t you both going to get ready as well?" Florian asked, trying to break the intensity of Cashew’s stare. He cleared his throat. "The ball starts in... an hour? Or two? I lost track of time. But the guests should be arriving soon, right?"

Cashew gave a quick nod, blinking back to himself. "Yes, Your Highness. I just wanted to make sure you were ready before I went. Lord Lucius is handling the guests, but I’ll be overseeing the final checks with the maids and servants before I get dressed."

"And I—" Drizelous interjected grandly, striking a pose as if standing upon a stage, "must also get ready! The artist cannot appear at a ball looking plain, after all.

Though of course..." He leaned in suddenly, pinching Florian’s cheeks with surprising tenderness, "not nearly as dazzling as my muse."

Florian couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, muffled by the weight of both embarrassment and affection. The sound loosened the tension in his chest, if only slightly.

"Then," he said, straightening, the golden ornaments clinking faintly with the motion, "I’ll see you both later."

Florian lingered in front of the mirror, his own reflection still foreign to him, like a stranger draped in fire and gold.

His gaze shifted slightly, catching Azure perched on the bed, the little dragon’s wide eyes locked onto him as though spellbound.

"...Do I really look good?" Florian asked softly, hesitant, almost as if ashamed to give voice to the question.

His fingers fidgeted with one of the golden rings, the cold metal grounding him, reminding him he was still present, still real in this whirlwind of silk and gold.

Azure tilted its head, wings twitching with a faint rustle. For a brief moment Florian thought it might actually croak out a response—

—but instead, the little creature yawned, jaws stretching wide in a tiny squeak, wings drooping like wilting petals. Within seconds, Azure curled into itself, a puff of smoke escaping its snout as its eyelids fluttered shut, body going slack in sudden slumber.

Florian blinked, taken aback. "What? Just like that?" His tone carried both amusement and concern. "I ask you one thing and you fall asleep?"

But his chest tightened, unease creeping in. Azure rarely dozed off so abruptly, not without curling closer to him first.

No, something was off.

He stepped away from the mirror, the fabric of his embroidered robes whispering against the floor. Worry prickled at him, sharp and restless. His hand twitched toward the little dragon, ready to scoop him up—

"You look absolutely breathtaking."

The voice was smooth, rich, and startlingly close.

And very familiar.

Florian jolted violently, spinning on instinct. His heart slammed against his ribs as his hand half-rose defensively, the gold rings flashing in the light.

There—half-shrouded in shadow near the carved pillars, but unmistakable nonetheless—stood Hendrix.

His figure was lean, his posture relaxed, but his presence filled the space as though he belonged there all along.

"...Hendrix?"

The name left Florian’s lips as a whisper, more disbelief than recognition.

It had been so long since he had last seen him.

The day Hendrix had guided him back to Heinz, after Heinz’s mysterious four-day disappearance, Hendrix had been the one to vanish without warning.

No explanation. No farewell. Nothing but silence in his wake.

And now—here he was.

Hendrix raised both hands slowly, palms out in a placating gesture. A small, apologetic smile tugged at his lips, the kind that carried a weight of guilt behind its ease. "It’s been awhile."

Florian’s breath caught, a dozen questions crashing into him like waves against a cliff.

’What is he doing here? And how did he even get into this room—Heinz’s room? Also...’

"...You—where have you been?"

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

Florian’s birthday outfit!