The room went still—so quiet that even the sound of someone breathing felt like thunder against the suffocating silence.
Florian's stomach twisted painfully. His hands trembled at his sides.
'I should've let the princesses leave… I should've…'
The weight of everyone's stares pressed down on him like iron chains. Every pair of eyes was on him. Watching. Waiting. Judging.
Of course, they would.
Because in this entire kingdom… the only person who possessed blue butterflies—magical, ethereal, unmistakable—was him.
Florian's throat closed up. His mouth opened, ready to deny it. Ready to demand how exactly they thought a butterfly could kill someone. But before he could even speak—
A sharp gasp.
"Oh... right. Prince Florian's butterflies... they're poisonous!" Alexandria's voice rang out, high-pitched with horror.
Florian froze.
'What...?' His chest tightened. His breath hitched. 'What the hell is she doing?'
