Help! Get Me Out of My Sister's Novel

Another day had passed.

The light creeping in through the tall windows was soft—too soft for a world that had bled only nights ago.

Dust swirled lazily in the air, catching in the pale morning glow, and for a long time, Florian just lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling.

He didn’t want to move.

He didn’t want to think.

He didn’t want to feel.

The warmth of the sheets pressed against him, heavy and suffocating, and the echo of everything that had happened—the screams, the blood, the butterflies—still haunted the edges of his mind.

But the world refused to stop turning.

"The dukes are getting impatient," Cashew’s voice broke through the silence. The boy’s tone was careful, gentle, but edged with unease. "I’ve been hearing them talk about... war. Some of them are saying Prince Hendrix and his family might be behind the attacks."

Florian didn’t look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling.

Cashew hesitated before continuing, wringing his hands. "I also heard the dragon was spotted again—flying above the kingdom—but then it disappeared."

A low hum left Florian’s throat. "Azure..." he muttered under his breath. ’Of course he’s restless too.’

Cashew stepped closer, setting down the tray he carried. Steam curled from the untouched cup of tea. "There’s a lot of work to be done, Your Highness," he said softly.

Florian finally sat up, rubbing at his temple, his expression unreadable. "The royals?" he asked after a beat, voice quiet. "My... family? How about them?"

Cashew’s eyes flickered down, unsure. "They seem calm for now, especially since His Majesty gave them permission to take the princesses home. As for your family..."

He trailed off, biting his lip. "...they’ve been requesting an audience with you. Especially Her Highness... Princess Kazaria."

Florian froze at the name.

Kazaria.

His sister. The one this body called Kazaria. The one who shared almost the same name as his real sister—Kazari.

A name that felt like a cruel echo of his first life.

He took a slow breath. "I’ll... talk to them later," he said finally. "After everything else I need to do."

Cashew nodded, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade.

"It’s surprising that His Majesty is letting you help handle royal affairs, Your Highness," he said with a small, nervous smile. "But then again, you’re very smart. You’ve helped His Majesty a lot before—especially during the Sovereign Summit."

Florian glanced at him, faint amusement tugging at his lips. "That’s what you think?"

Cashew smiled wider, bashful but sincere. "You’ve always been good at it." Then his expression softened, his voice quiet. "But... are you sure you’re okay now? You’re not... tired?"

Florian paused. The concern in Cashew’s tone hit harder than he expected.

He smiled faintly, forcing the corners of his lips upward. "I’m fine, Cashew. Don’t worry."

The boy nodded, though it was clear he didn’t quite believe him.

Once Cashew turned to gather the tray, Florian’s smile fell.

His thoughts drifted to the night before—to Heinz’s voice, low and trembling as he knelt before him. The way he’d said "let me atone" like it was a prayer.

Florian’s chest ached.

He didn’t want to admit it, but that speech had shaken something loose inside him. Something he wasn’t ready to face.

’I told him I wouldn’t push him away... but only if he stops lying. Only if he stops hiding things from me.’

It had been a reluctant truce—a fragile thread holding together two people who were both too damaged to trust each other but too entangled to let go.

And maybe... a part of him had agreed because he wanted to see what Heinz would do next.

To watch his actions. To learn his next moves.

Because if Florian was going to survive this—if he was going to find a way to bring the original Florian peace, to bring himself peace—then he needed to know everything.

Every secret.

Every danger.

Every plan.

That was what Florian needed.

So when Heinz had asked him—begged him, even—what he could do to earn forgiveness, Florian didn’t answer with words.

He answered with action.

He began involving himself in royal affairs.

Not because he wanted to serve the king.

Not because he wanted to be the queen Heinz once dreamed of.

But because knowledge was power.

And power was the only thing that could free him.

He would gather every piece of information he could.

Every name, every alliance, every secret Heinz thought he could keep buried—Florian would know them all.

And then, when the time came, he would leave.

He would free the real Florian—the one who had loved Heinz and suffered for it.

He would leave this cursed kingdom behind.

He would find a way back to his own world, to his own body, to the sister who still existed somewhere out there, waiting for him.

No amount of lingering affection, no matter how much his heart betrayed him, would change that.

No amount of tenderness from Heinz would ever outweigh his love for his sister.

Or his guilt toward the original Florian.

’I won’t be trapped here,’ Florian thought, his jaw tightening. ’And I won’t let the original Florian be trapped here. Not again."

He crossed his arms, pulling himself back to the present. "Where’s Hendrix right now, do you know?"

Cashew blinked, a little surprised by the sudden question. "As far as I know, Your Highness, he’s staying with the Sereneson royal family. With his mother, Princess Athena, and the king." The boy tilted his head slightly. "Why?"

Florian looked away, his expression unreadable. "Nothing really," he murmured.

But his heart told a different story.

He had to speak with Hendrix.

He didn’t know how yet—whether it would be in secret, through letters, or face-to-face—but it had to happen.

Hendrix was the only person he could possibly trust to help him.

He had once thought about leaving with the Thornfields, disappearing quietly from Concordia.

But now... things were different.

The letters from Floramatria.

The unanswered questions.

It finally made sense.

’He hid them.’

The realization settled heavily in his chest. ’Heinz... hid the letters.’

Florian clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

Heinz might be acting gentle now—might be trying—but it didn’t change what he was capable of.

Florian had seen the fire behind those eyes.

The same fire that burned kingdoms.

The same rage that could so easily turn on him.

And he knew.

Heinz could smile one day, hold his hand the next, and the moment Florian tried to leave—he’d kill him.

Again.

’I won’t let that happen.’

He needed to be smart with this.

Florian exhaled slowly, his voice steady when he finally spoke again.

"Cashew," Florian said at last, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Thank you. That’ll be all for now. I know you’re busy too—with all the new tasks and... after what happened to the other maids and butlers."

His voice faltered at the end, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

So many people had died—people Cashew knew by name.

The silence that followed was heavy with loss.

"Are you sure, Your Highness?" Cashew asked softly, stepping closer. "You don’t need anything else? I can keep you company for a while..."

Before he could finish, Florian reached out and gently cupped the boy’s cheek.

The warmth of Cashew’s skin was a sharp contrast to the cold air that hung in the room.

Florian smiled, softer this time. "You’re always such a worrywart, Cashew."

Cashew’s lips curved into a small smile as he leaned into Florian’s hand, eyes half-lidded like a loyal pet basking in the sunlight.

"I just want to make sure you’re always happy and taken care of, Your Highness. You... you always think about everyone else. Even me. More than yourself."

Florian’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard.

For a second, he didn’t know what to say.

Cashew had grown. His voice was steadier, his words more thoughtful. The shy little boy who once hid behind trays and curtains now spoke to him with genuine affection—and concern.

And somehow, that made Florian’s chest ache.

He laughed lightly, trying to shake off the heaviness in his throat. "How come you grew up so fast? One moment you were this shy little thing, and now you’re scolding me."

Cashew chuckled, embarrassed. "Sir Lucius told me someone has to scold you. He said you wouldn’t get mad at me, so I should do it all I want."

Florian laughed too, the sound fragile but real. "Just for that," he teased, "the moment Lucius wakes up, I’m scolding him."

That earned a soft giggle from the boy.

"Now, go on," Florian said gently. "If anyone asks to speak with me, let me know first. I’ll decide depending on who it is."

He winked, and Cashew brightened instantly, nodding. "Right away, Your Highness." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

The boy bowed and turned to leave, his steps light despite the day’s fatigue—but then he suddenly gasped, spinning around.

"Oh!"

Florian blinked, startled. "Yes?"

"I almost forgot, Your Highness." Cashew tapped his forehead in apology. "Someone else wanted to speak with you—it was, um... the nice lady duke, uh..."

"Duke Elara?" Florian asked, already guessing.

Cashew’s face lit up. "Yes! That’s the one! She said she’d like to meet with you if it’s alright."

Florian didn’t hesitate. "Yes. Please set an audience between me and Duke Elara. Just here, in my room. Prepare tea and some snacks."

Cashew blinked, clearly surprised. "At once, Your Highness!"

He bowed again and hurried out, his footsteps fading down the hall.

As the door closed, the silence that returned was almost too loud.

The flutter of blue butterflies filled the air—gentle, ethereal, their wings shimmering like fragments of glass catching the morning light.

They swirled around Florian’s shoulders before drifting upward, painting the room in faint shades of azure.

Florian watched them, his expression shifting—his smile fading into something colder, more resolute.

He leaned back slightly, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

’Enough waiting,’ he thought, eyes narrowing. ’It’s time I actually start doing something.’