Chapter 485: ’A Painful Betrayal.’
Presently...
"Your Majesty?"
Florian’s soft voice tugged Heinz out of his haze of memories. He blinked, looking down. Florian was still beneath him, one delicate hand cupping Heinz’s cheek, worry flickering in those pale eyes.
"You’ve been spacing out this whole time," Florian said gently. "Something did happen, didn’t it?"
Heinz’s brows drew together. "And if something did happen, what would you do?"
’I shouldn’t have asked for that last memory.’’I should have just accepted what Afton said and left it at that.’
But he couldn’t unsee it. The memory burned into him.
"I would want to help you figure it out," Florian replied, voice so soft, so sweet, it made something fragile inside Heinz ache. "That’s what I’m here for, right?"
For a moment, it almost healed him. Almost.
’Perhaps... this Florian. My Florian... could...’
Because this Florian wasn’t the same. Not the same as the original who had betrayed him with cruel, cutting words that still carved through his chest. Not the same Florian who had left his heart bleeding.
Heinz studied the boy before him, a small, fleeting smile touching his lips before he bent down and pressed a tender kiss to Florian’s head. Florian froze, wide-eyed at the unexpected intimacy.
"You truly are..." Heinz whispered, lips brushing against his forehead.
’Mine.’
No wonder this Florian had captured him so easily. It wasn’t only what Afton said about change and perception—it was the truth Heinz could see with his own eyes.
This Florian had turned Lancelot away. He had pushed Lucius from his side. He had only leaned toward Hendrix out of duty—for Heinz’s sake.
This Florian was faithful. Steadfast. He didn’t string Heinz along or offer him false hope.
"I’m what?" Florian asked suddenly, tilting his head, his curious eyes looking up into Heinz’s. "You still haven’t given me any real answers. Now you’re just saying half-words and leaving them unfinished."
His gaze narrowed with suspicion. "Did you get cursed? Are you... actually the king? Or are you some kind of imposter, because if you are—"
"Pfft." Heinz snorted, laughter bubbling out of him before he could stop it.
’Ah.’
The sound felt foreign on his tongue, yet warm. Real.
’I really love him so fucking much.’
Florian pouted, crossing his arms. "I don’t see what’s funny." His huff was so childlike Heinz almost laughed harder.
God.
Why had he waited so long to face him? Why had he been so afraid that every glance at Florian would drag him back into the pain of his first life?
But maybe—because of Afton. Because of remembering everything, laying it all bare—his guilt had dulled. The pain was still there, yes, but less suffocating.
And now, with this Florian here with him... Heinz felt lighter.
"Let’s make a deal," Heinz whispered.
"A deal?" Florian repeated, tilting his head again.
Heinz nodded, fingers brushing softly against his hair as he tucked a loose strand behind his ear. "I’ll tell you everything. Why I was gone, every secret I’ve held back from you. But..."
"But what?"
"But I’ll only tell you on your birthday."
"Why on my birthday?"
’Because I want to confess on your birthday.’
Aloud, Heinz only said, "I’ll give you the reason then. For now, I want you to stop asking, and instead focus with me—on planning your birthday, on Hendrix, the village project, everything else. Does that seem fair to you?"
He had already wasted too many days in hiding, drowning in memories, abandoning his duties. And knowing Florian—he wouldn’t tolerate that.
Florian hesitated, then nodded. "Alright, Your Majesty. I’ll take you on that deal."
"Good." Heinz’s voice dropped into a near whisper as he leaned closer, his breath ghosting over Florian’s lips. "But for now, there’s one thing I want to do."
Florian blinked, half-confused, half-curious. "What’s that?"
Heinz kissed him.
Soft at first, then deeper. Possessive.
’I want to fucking kill Hendrix,’ Heinz thought savagely as he claimed Florian’s lips, pulling him impossibly closer.
Heinz felt the anger coil in his gut like fire.
Remembering that night—the betrayal, the bitter taste of helplessness—he wanted nothing more than to seize Hendrix by the throat, to watch the light drain from his eyes as he cut his head clean off.
But no.
That would be far too merciful.
Heinz’s lips curved in the faintest shadow of a smile, dark and sharp.
’Death is too easy for him. Too kind.’
No, Heinz wouldn’t let him win. Not again. Not in this life. Not ever.
’He will never touch Florian. Never. This Florian isn’t the same—he doesn’t belong to Hendrix. He belongs to me.’
This wasn’t the Florian who had once turned away from him, who had broken his heart and left him to drown in betrayal.
This was his Florian. The one who reached for him. The one who chose him.
And Heinz would be damned if he let Hendrix’s filthy hands even brush against him a second time.
This lifetime—this chance—was his. To hold. To love. To protect.
And no one—no one—would steal it from him.
The thought surged through him as his kiss deepened. His tongue slipped past Florian’s lips, prying them open with a hunger that bordered on desperate. Florian whimpered, the sound soft, startled—and then came that moan.
A sweet, breathless moan that seemed to vibrate against Heinz’s mouth.
;Only mine. Only I get to hear that.;
Heinz’s hand roamed lower, sliding along the curve of Florian’s body until his thumb brushed against a sensitive bud on his chest. He pressed, teased, played with it, and Florian’s body betrayed him instantly—jerking back, arching into Heinz’s touch.
The sight made Heinz’s breath falter. His lips parted, pulling back only to look at him. Florian’s flushed face, his half-lidded eyes, the confusion and desire tangled together—it was intoxicating.
"It seems," Heinz whispered, voice low, dangerous, "that your body really wants this."
His thumb continued its slow, tormenting circles, watching how every touch made Florian’s chest rise and fall faster.
Florian’s lips parted but no words came out—just a shaky breath.
Heinz leaned closer, his gaze locking onto him, sharp and unrelenting. "Florian... do you want this?" His tone was a knife’s edge—half-command, half-plea. "If you don’t... then I’ll stop."
But deep down, he already knew the answer. He already knew how badly Florian would get flustered, how his heart would twist itself into knots. He wanted to see it, to savor it.
Florian whined, high and helpless, hiding behind his arms as if that could shield him. "Y-Your Majesty... c-come on..."
The sight broke Heinz apart and stitched him back together in the same breath.
;God, look at him. So easily undone by me. So sweet.’
Heinz’s hand caught Florian’s wrist, gently but firmly pulling his arms away so he could see his face again. "Don’t hide from me," he murmured. "Not you. Never you."
Florian’s face was burning red, so crimson that Heinz almost swore he could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His chest rose and fell in shallow, frantic breaths, eyes darting everywhere but at Heinz.
"Y-you... y-you’re so unfair," Florian stammered, his voice trembling, hands pressed weakly against Heinz’s chest as though that could keep him away.
Heinz only smiled—slow, sharp, and knowing.
’Mine. All mine.’
The hunger inside him coiled tighter, the urge to mark Florian, to remind him who he belonged to, becoming unbearable. An idea sparked, sharp and intoxicating.
Without warning, Heinz slipped an arm beneath Florian’s legs, the other around his back, and lifted him with effortless strength.
"Eh—?! Y-Your Majesty!" Florian squeaked, clutching at his collar in shock. His legs kicked lightly in protest, though his arms instinctively wrapped around Heinz’s neck. "W-what are you doing?!"
Heinz didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
His strides were steady, deliberate, his boots striking the polished floor until they stopped before the tall, gilded mirror that loomed like a silent witness.
Florian blinked, confusion flashing in his eyes—until realization struck.
His body stiffened. His lips parted in a gasp as he squirmed in Heinz’s hold, desperate and yet hesitant. "N-no...!" His voice came soft, breathless, almost pleading—but not with conviction. "Don’t you dare..."
Heinz’s smirk curved wider.
He set Florian down gently, but firmly, guiding him until he stood facing his reflection.
The mirror betrayed everything: the scarlet flush on Florian’s cheeks, the tremble of his lips, the glossy shine of his wide, frantic eyes. Shame, want, and helplessness—all laid bare.
Heinz moved in behind him, his tall frame enveloping Florian’s smaller one like a predator caging prey. Their bodies pressed flush, heat melding together. One hand slid around Florian’s waist, spreading across his abdomen, possessive and unyielding. The other rose with agonizing slowness until it caught Florian’s chin.
"Look," Heinz murmured, tilting his face upward until their gazes locked in the reflection. His voice was low, velvet and command twined together. "Don’t run from me, Florian. Watch. See what you do to me... what we do to each other."
Florian’s breath hitched. His hands shot up, covering his face as if hiding could erase the truth reflected before them. His voice came muffled, high-pitched with mortification. "N-no, Your Majesty, I... I can’t—! This is too much..."
Heinz chuckled darkly, the sound rumbling through his chest, vibrating against Florian’s back. His hand on Florian’s abdomen pressed harder, drawing him back until no space remained between them. His lips brushed the shell of Florian’s ear, his breath searing, commanding.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, voice low, dangerous. "If you really don’t want this... then push me away."
His thumb stroked Florian’s chin, coaxing his face back toward the mirror, his hold gentle yet inescapable.
And there—caught in the reflection—Florian saw the truth. His trembling frame pressed helplessly against Heinz’s solid one, his shame painted across his face, his weakness laid bare beside Heinz’s unwavering dominance.
His lips trembled, his voice breaking as he whispered, "Y-you’re cruel..."
Heinz’s smile deepened, dark and triumphant.
"I gave you a choice."
’And you never took it.’
Now, it was too late.