Chapter 490: ’Wake Up Call.’
As soon as Florian’s eyes opened, he was strangely... calm.
No gasping. No scream tearing out of his throat. His chest rose and fell evenly, too evenly, as if his body hadn’t caught up with his mind. He just lay there, eyes blankly tracing the ceiling above him.
The weight around his waist anchored him back to reality. Heinz’s arm—heavy, possessive—was draped over him. The heat of his body pressed into Florian’s side, but Florian couldn’t bring himself to look at him.
Not after what he’d just seen.
Every time Florian allowed himself to forget.
Even for a moment.
Even for just a second.
Every time he dared to think of Heinz as just a man, the man who held him, who kissed him—He was reminded. Brutally.
This is the man who has ruined the original Florian.
The man who touched this body, knowing what he did to it. The man who turned it into something he could break and still claim as his own.
Florian swallowed hard, bile threatening to rise. His skin crawled where Heinz’s arm rested.
’God... I feel so icky.’
And then—like a knife in his chest—came the echo of the original Florian’s voice from the memory.
"I’ve been... doing something bad, because I’m scared. I don’t want to go through this alone. Like how I’ve felt... like how I’ve always felt like I was the only one present in our relationship."
Those words sank deep, burrowing under Florian’s ribs until he could hardly breathe.
It was obvious what the original Florian had done. He’d known he was pregnant, and yet he drank a lot. Despite the risk. Not out of carelessness or ignorance, but out of despair.
He’d been trying to end it. Trying to erase the baby before it was born. Because he was terrified. Terrified of carrying alone. Terrified of being abandoned, forgotten.
Florian’s throat tightened. ’That... that’s heartbreaking.’
But what gutted him most was the quiet terror building inside himself. Because he didn’t want that to happen to him either.
’I can’t let this happen to him again. I really...can’t.’
Florian felt strangely protective over the original Florian, even more now than ever. He wasn’t just some crazy prince in love.
No, he was wronged.
However...
He kept telling himself he wanted to help. That he wanted to change something for the original Florian. That was the whole reason he was here, wasn’t it?
And yet, he had still done nothing. He’d let the memory roll forward, step by step, helpless, waiting for the ball as if that was the only chance.
But maybe it wasn’t.
Originally, his plan had been simple—make the original Florian return to his kingdom. Keep him far away from Heinz’s destruction. That was the path he clung to.
But there was another option. One he’d shoved aside, never daring to bring it into the light.
And now, it came to him, quiet but undeniable.
Hendrix.
Hendrix was awfully suspicious. There was always something calculated in the way he moved, the way his words seemed to carry double meanings.
Florian knew there was more to Hendrix’s plans than he was letting on, some hidden piece of strategy that explained why he was so unshaken, so overconfident about facing Heinz head-on.
But when it came to Hendrix’s feelings for the original Florian—his unwavering gaze, the quiet desperation when he spoke of saving him—those seemed genuine.
Honest in a way that cut through everything else.
Florian could be wrong about a lot of things. He had been before. But he believed he wasn’t wrong about this.
Hendrix did want to help the original Florian. He wanted to protect him.
That much felt certain.
And that was something Florian wanted to use.
Maybe, just maybe, the original Florian would be happier if he stayed with Hendrix.
But it was risky.
Dangerously risky.
Heinz had already made it clear he intended to crush whatever Hendrix was plotting, and Florian still didn’t know the full scope of those plans.
As much as Florian despised Heinz, if Hendrix’s intentions included harming Heinz—or worse, threatening Concordia—then of course Florian couldn’t support that.
Even if, deep down, a part of him did want Heinz destroyed, Florian couldn’t bring himself to imagine anyone succeeding.
Not against Heinz. Not against a man with seemingly limitless power and a dragon at his command.
’Speaking of dragon...’
It had been four days since Florian last saw Heinz. And yet, not once in those four days had he seen Azure.
Where was the dragon?
Florian wanted to get up and check, if only to distract himself.
The only redeemable thing about Heinz was the way he treated him—as though he were someone else. As though he wasn’t the original Florian. And, of course, there was Azure.
Azure was Heinz’s most redeeming factor.
That tiny dragon had worked its way into Florian’s heart so quickly, so unexpectedly, that sometimes Florian caught himself wishing he could steal Azure away from Heinz entirely.
But that was impossible.
So instead, Florian told himself he would spend as much time with the dragon as he could, before he eventually had to leave.
Leaving.
That was another weight on his mind. Florian couldn’t help but wonder if Heinz was truly doing his part to ensure he could go home.
He had promised—but then again, Heinz had promised many things. Still, what reason would he have to lie now?
Florian had done his part. More than his part. He had even gone as far as letting Heinz touch him, letting him take him, all for reasons Florian didn’t care to think too hard about.
’The sooner I get home, the sooner I can get back to Kaz. God. I really miss her—’
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Florian froze, the words cutting into his quiet reverie. Heinz’s voice was too close, too sudden.
’Why does he keep doing that?’
Slowly, Florian turned his head, glancing at him. Heinz’s crimson eyes were already fixed on him, sharp and unreadable, and as always, the sight of them made Florian’s chest clench.
It was never just a look. Those eyes carried memories—memories he didn’t want. Memories he couldn’t forget.
And before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.
"The execution."