CHAPTER 514: ’MY EVER SO LOVELY FLORIAN.’

"Presenting."

The herald’s voice boomed across the ballroom, sharp and commanding, echoing through the vaulted ceiling.

The sound rattled in Florian’s chest, and his heart skipped violently, beating faster than it ever had before.

Instinctively, his grip on Heinz’s arm tightened, fingers curling against the silken sleeve as though clinging for dear life.

"Nervous?" Heinz’s voice brushed against his ear, low and teasing, the kind of whisper that managed to steady and unnerve him all at once.

They stepped forward in tandem, the grand balcony doors opening to spill a wave of light and music upon them.

"Mhm..." Florian managed a soft hum, nodding quickly, eyes darting toward the sea of people below.

’Too many eyes... far too many eyes...’

"Don’t be," Heinz murmured smoothly, the faintest curl of a smile touching his lips as he leaned just a fraction closer. "You are the star of this night. So shine with confidence, Ilúvarei."

Florian’s eyes widened, his breath catching sharply. That word—Ilúvarei. He had heard Heinz speak it before, but never like this.

It was always whispered in moments of intimacy, tangled in breathless gasps and heat. Never here, never under these chandeliers with so many watching.

His lips parted in disbelief. "What—"

But the herald’s voice thundered again, cutting him off.

"His Royal Majesty, King Heinz, and His Royal Highness, Prince Florian Obsidian."

Florian blinked, his head snapping toward the herald, stunned.

’Now that’s a mistake.’

The name fell heavy into the air, a ripple of murmurs rising from the crowd below. Obsidian. The surname of Concordia’s royal line—not his.

It wasn’t a big deal to him personally—he could live with a misstep—but his stomach knotted with worry. If there was anyone who despised errors, it was Heinz.

’Would this... anger him?’

Carefully, Florian tilted his head toward the king. But Heinz didn’t seem perturbed at all. No scowl. No correction barked across the hall. In fact, his face carried that same calm composure, his expression unreadable save for the faint spark in his eyes.

’Oh... I guess it’s okay.’ Florian exhaled silently, tension easing from his chest.

They continued forward, step by step, and the grand hall shifted as all eyes rose to them. Florian felt the heat of countless gazes, a wave of awe sweeping through the crowd.

The Princesses, dukes, nobles of every standing—they all watched, their whispers hushed, their faces alight with fascination.

His breath caught again.

The ballroom was a sea of color, a world spun from silks and jewels. Each noble wore garments woven with Floramatrian inspiration, intricate patterns of flowing lines and layered textures.

What stunned him most, however, were the women—the princesses in particular.

Their gowns were unlike anything Florian had seen before: armor kissed by elegance, steel softened by silk. Corsets shaped like breastplates, skirts split to reveal the suggestion of boots beneath, every detail a perfect balance between warrior and sovereign.

Gleaming pauldrons melted into beaded lace, and swords dangled like accessories at their waists. They were knights dressed as queens, radiating grace and power all at once.

Florian’s eyes widened further. ’They look... magnificent.’

Step by step, he and Heinz descended the wide staircase. The polished marble reflected the golden glow of the chandeliers above, each stride echoing faintly.

The hush of the crowd deepened, broken only by gasps and soft, admiring murmurs.

"Oohs" and "ahs" rippled through the nobles, like a tide rising with every measured step they took. The awe wasn’t for Heinz—not solely. It was centered upon Florian.

Every gaze turned toward him.

Every breath seemed to still for him.

The air grew thick, and Florian could feel it pressing against his skin, crawling along his spine. His throat tightened, and his grip on Heinz’s arm trembled slightly as he struggled to steady himself.

As soon as Heinz and Florian reached the polished marble floor, the sea of nobles parted with instinctive grace.

The men bowed low, their cloaks sweeping the ground, while the women curtsied with practiced elegance, skirts flaring like waves of silk.

Florian felt his chest tighten. Their eyes—every single pair—were on him.

It was... strange.

No, more than strange.

It almost felt like...

He was Heinz’s queen.

The realization rattled him, stealing the breath from his lungs. This wasn’t the same as when Scarlett had been escorted by Heinz, standing tall and regal at his side.

No—this was different. Heinz’s presence tonight carried another weight, and the way he held himself beside Florian only amplified it.

Heinz wasn’t just presenting him. He was claiming him.

’What am I even thinking? Me? Heinz’s queen? That’s ridiculous.’

And yet, the thought refused to leave.

Heinz came to a halt, and Florian immediately followed, their steps still matched, as though tethered by something unseen. The entire ballroom hushed, anticipation humming in the silence.

Heinz raised his hand, commanding the crowd without effort. "Welcome," his voice rang out, low and steady, carrying across the vast chamber. "I am glad you all could attend tonight."

The room seemed to stiffen in response, every noble’s posture straightening as their attention sharpened solely on the king.

"This is the second time the Diamond Palace has opened its doors to host a ball," Heinz continued, tone rich and measured. "And before anything else, I would like to extend my gratitude to the dukes."

Florian’s eyes flicked around. All across the hall, noble heads dipped slightly, acknowledging the recognition.

"As you all know," Heinz pressed on, "just a month ago, I hosted a sovereign summit along with Florian. It was during this summit that he presented plans to help the villages."

At the mention of his name, Florian blinked, caught off guard.

’Wait—he’s bringing this up now?’

"I have been waiting for the perfect time to officially announce that we are ready to begin these efforts," Heinz declared, his voice strong, reverberating against crystal chandeliers and gilded walls. "Work will soon commence to aid the villages—and we hope that all present tonight will also contribute to this cause."

Florian’s breath hitched slightly, a quiet storm of emotions stirring inside him.

’I didn’t know he was going to announce this tonight... This is good, this is really good. I was starting to worry he forgot about the plan... but why mention it now, at a ball of all places?’

"And because of the dukes’ cooperation," Heinz added, his hand lowering as he spoke, "this endeavor will be easier now than ever before."

He started to clap, and the hall erupted in kind. The sharp sound of applause echoed through the chamber like a cascade of rain against glass.

Florian instinctively joined in, his own hands meeting together, though his gaze wandered toward the dukes he could spot from where he stood.

Cedric. Roland. Both were with their children, both bowing their heads with quiet acknowledgment as they accepted Heinz’s praise.

For a moment, Florian allowed himself to exhale, the applause surrounding him almost drowning out the restless pace of his heart.

But then—

Heinz’s voice cut back through the air, strong and deliberate.

"The reason I mention this project tonight," he said, pausing just long enough for the crowd to still, "is because I want to give full credit to the birthday celebrant. The star of this night. The one who made the change possible..."

Florian froze, his eyes widening, breath caught halfway in his throat.

’Oh no. He’s—’

"My ever so lovely Florian."