'Is he finally going to tell me what the fuck has been going inside his head all this time?' Florian thought, eyeing Heinz's outstretched hand as though it were both an invitation and a trap. His throat tightened. 'Do I really need to hold his hand though and…'

But then—why was Heinz looking at him like that again?

So warmly.

Too warmly.

"For such a beautiful person, you have such low self-esteem."

Monica's voice whispered through his head like an echo, so out of place in this moment that it made his chest tighten. The words clung to him as he slowly raised his hand, hesitating before letting his fingers brush against Heinz's.

'What does low self-esteem have to do with any of this? I'm just being honest. Heinz would never… Heinz wouldn't—'

But his thoughts scattered the instant his gaze met Heinz's. That soft, crimson gaze. The kind that didn't pierce or command, but wrapped around him like velvet.

His heart lurched violently against his ribs, so loud it nearly drowned out the music still drifting faintly from the ballroom.

'The vibe feels different.'

The moment their hands fully connected, Florian shivered. It wasn't the night air brushing against his bare skin that made him tremble—it was something else. Something he couldn't put into words. Something that felt… wrong.

Or maybe too right.

Heinz didn't let him linger. His grip was firm, steady, guiding him across the balcony until they reached the edge.

And then—Florian's breath caught.

His eyes widened as a soft gasp slipped past his lips.

Below them, the front of the palace had transformed. Where once ordinary shrubs and flowers had sprawled, now a tapestry of glowing blooms unfurled, their light shimmering like captured starlight.

It was as though a second sky had been planted beneath their feet—a sea of stars to mirror the one above, the vast expanse blending with the luminous moon that hung over them.

"…Those… are new." Florian's voice came out faint, awed despite himself.

Heinz's fingers tightened gently around his, anchoring him. His tone was calm, but there was a quiet pride in it. "I had the gardeners, with Cashew's help, plant all of these."

Florian's lips parted, but no words came at first. Finally, he managed, his voice shaky, breath shallow: "Why…?"

Heinz turned his head slightly, that faint, unreadable smile curving his lips as he whispered, "It better fits the mood, no?"

'Mood…?'

Florian forced out a laugh, thin and unconvincing. "Since when has Your Majesty been interested in flowers?" he asked, desperate to shatter the tension clawing at his chest.

But, of course, Heinz wasn't going to cooperate.

The king's free hand lifted, slow and deliberate, his fingers brushing against Florian's cheek. The touch was warm, intimate in a way that made Florian's heart lurch.

"Since we're alone right now," Heinz said, his voice low, velvet smooth, "just call me Heinz."

Florian's breath caught. Right. That was… another thing between them now. That line Heinz kept crossing, dragging him further into dangerous territory.

"But—"

"And I am not particularly interested in flowers," Heinz continued, unbothered, "I just thought you would like them."

Florian's pulse roared in his ears. His chest tightened painfully.

'What game is he playing at?'

Every word felt intentional. Every gesture too calculated. Was this another one of Heinz's games? Was he trying to amuse himself at Florian's expense? To see how far he could push him before he broke?

But why? What was the goal this time?

Florian wasn't in the mood to be toyed with. He tore his gaze away from the glowing flowers below and cleared his throat, forcing composure.

"You mentioned… there was a lot we were going to talk about, Your Maj—" He faltered, catching Heinz's pointed gaze and correcting quickly, "—Heinz."

Heinz said nothing at first. His expression was calm, a faint smirk still tugging at his lips. But then, slowly, it faded. His features hardened into something far more serious.

The shift sent a chill down Florian's spine.

'Now that's… concerning.'

Was this conversation going to be bad?

Heinz's crimson eyes narrowed slightly, the night breeze tugging at his long black hair as he finally spoke. "I promised you—when you asked me for the truth, for what was happening—that I would tell you on this day."

Florian's eyes widened, his chest tightening. 'I knew it. It's about this… but is it really that serious?'

"For this," Heinz continued, his tone heavy with finality, "I will start from the beginning. Well… not the very beginning. But you must remain silent until I finish."

Florian swallowed hard, his mind racing. 'So he's really going to tell me why he's been acting so strange… why he disappeared for those four days? I should also ask him about the letter—'

"Florian," Heinz interrupted his spiraling thoughts. "No… the Florian from my first life, and I…" His voice lowered, striking like steel wrapped in silk. "…were in a relationship."

The words hit like a bucket of water.

Florian froze. Not just his body, but his heart.

Every beat seemed to stop in his chest. The world tilted, the glowing flowers, the starry sky, even the steady grip of Heinz's hand—everything felt impossibly distant.

Florian's brain stalled, his thoughts crashing into each other with no clear direction. He wasn't expecting this—not now, not like this.

Curiosity had gnawed at him for weeks.

After glimpsing so many pieces of the original Florian's relationship with Heinz, he couldn't help but wonder why Heinz had never spoken of it.

Because from what he'd seen… it hadn't been simple.

It had been complicated. Twisted.

Messy. Almost… fucked up.

Florian had half-convinced himself that maybe Heinz didn't remember. That maybe he had forgotten—like everything else. But now—

"So… you do remember?" Florian asked, his voice unsteady, his heart pounding.

Heinz's crimson eyes narrowed slightly in surprise. "You know about it?"

Florian nodded stiffly. "Bits and pieces… but I've seen enough." He kept his tone even, forcing it not to turn cold. But the effort burned his throat.

"I should have figured," Heinz said quietly, studying him. Then, with the same calm weight as before, he added, "Though, as I said… do not speak. Let me finish."

The command slid under Florian's skin like ice. His lips pressed into a thin line, irritation bubbling up before he could stop it. 'So he knows everything… and still—still he's been hurting me on purpose?'

Heinz's gaze softened slightly, but his words were steady. "I only remember now. But I did not remember until this life."

Florian's brows furrowed sharply. His stomach dropped.

'What the hell does that even mean?'