"Y-Your Majesty!"
Florian's eyes lit up the moment he spotted Heinz walking down the corridor alongside Lucius, likely headed to breakfast with the princesses. The sight of him—tall, composed, radiant in his royal attire—made Florian's heart flutter with hope.
Usually, seeing Heinz going off with them, with the women he shared his table and time with, would fill Florian with that all-too-familiar ache, the bitterness of being left behind.
But not today.
Not after last night.
The night Heinz had brought him to his chambers—had kissed him like he meant it, had held him like he mattered, had whispered words that felt like confessions of love between tangled sheets and breathless gasps.
It had to mean something.
No—it had meant something.
'Heinz loves me. He really does. He finally showed it. Last night proved it.'
