'Ah. I'm annoyed.'
That was the first thing Florian thought when he saw it—that flicker of pain on Heinz's face. The way his expression shifted, just for a heartbeat, as if something inside him cracked. As if Florian's words… his distance, actually hurt him.
And that made Florian even angrier.
Because it shouldn't matter. Not after everything.
Not after what happened last night.
Not after Lucius nearly died.
Not after he—Florian—had blood on his hands.
Not after it was finally confirmed that he was the target of everyone and everything in this cursed kingdom because of one man—because of Heinz fucking Obsidian.
He could still see it all when he closed his eyes—the rogues' faces, the fear, the screams, the smell of blood.
And now… the dreams.
He had tried to brush them off at first, telling himself they were just nightmares, echoes of someone else's past—of the original Florian.
But they weren't.
They couldn't be.
