Chapter 34: Florante Gives Advice, But I Need an Exorcism
Katherine sat in the academy residence garden, the soft evening glow casting long shadows over the hedges and cobblestone paths. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with crisp night air, but it didn’t help. Her brain was still a chaotic mess.
First, she discovered that Jonathas—her supposedly noble older brother—was actually Norlukas. Her brain was still buffering on that one. The professor had described him perfectly: same face, same peculiar love for gadgets. That should’ve been enough proof. But then the man dropped the name Noraleigha.
Her old name. From her past life.
Cue dramatic internal screaming.
If Norlukas was really her brother, then... that meant Yevon was his wife. Which meant... Yevon was her sister-in-law?! HUH?!
Except—wait—wasn’t Yevon her aunt in this world?
Katherine squeezed her eyes shut, massaging her temples. "Okay, so either Tita Yevon is aging like a vampire, or the universe just decided time and family roles were optional."
That raised a terrifying question—how old was Yevon, actually? If Norlukas was supposed to be her twin, then shouldn’t he be the same age as her in this world? Yet, here she was, a fifteen-year-old noble lady, while he was... where even was he?
Too many questions. Not enough answers. And the people who did have answers—Zamir, for example—were being suspiciously vague about it.
Ugh. She was so over this mysterious, all-knowing act.
Zamir clearly recognized items from her world, which was suspiciously convenient, yet he danced around any actual explanations. Why? Did he think she’d break down if she heard the truth? Did he just enjoy messing with her? Or was she reading too much into it?
No, I’m not overthinking. Everyone here is suspicious.
She sighed and flopped back against the garden bench.
All she had wanted was a relaxing vacation in Europe. Instead, she got shot, died, and got dumped into a historical drama with suspiciously Filipino-European vibes. And what was up with that, anyway? This world had European-style nobility, but it came from the mind of a Filipino writer, Balagtas. Was this really based on Europe, or had she landed in a mishmash of cultures?
Katherine groaned. "This is why I hated history class."
Her thoughts wandered to Adolfo.
He had been hanging around her more lately, accompanying her to classes like some kind of self-proclaimed study buddy. But let’s be honest—he wasn’t there to study. He was just vibing. By the third class, he’d disappeared, off to attend an important lecture.
For some reason, she actually noticed his absence.
She thought back to his sharp, handsome features—his silver hair that always looked unfairly perfect, those striking crimson eyes.
Her stomach flipped.
...Wait.
She immediately sat up, eyes wide.
Was she getting butterflies because of Adolfo?!
No. Nope. Absolutely not.
She slapped both hands over her face. "Oh no."
She was originally in her thirties. Was she... a cougar now?!
Wait, no, stop. He’s sixteen or seventeen. I’m fifteen. It’s fine. Totally fine. This is normal. Right?
The problem was, she had zero experience in romance. Back in her old life, she sucked at dating. She was so bad at it that after a few awkward first dates, she just gave up entirely. Teenage her had focused on studying, paying the bills, and surviving. Romance was never a priority.
But here?
Here, she was a fifteen-year-old noble girl with too much free time and a questionable attraction to red-eyed men.
Oh no.
Was it really just Adolfo, though? Because now that she thought about it, Maestro Eldritch also had red eyes. And she definitely had a heart reaction to him at some point.
Did she... did she have a thing for red eyes?!
Her hands slowly slid down her face. "I need help."
How old was Maestro, anyway? Was he even mortal? What if he was secretly two hundred years old? What if she was accidentally crushing on a grandpa?
Katherine groaned and curled into herself. "What is wrong with me?"
Her life was already complicated. The last thing she needed was a weakness for hot red-eyed men.
"What’s wrong?"
Katherine froze.
That voice.
Slowly, she lowered her hands, half-expecting—no, half-hoping—to see Adolfo standing there. Instead, she found Florante, his face lined with concern.
For some reason, disappointment flickered through her.
Wait. What?
She mentally shook herself. Oh no. This is bad. Am I... expecting Adolfo now?
Girl, get a grip. What is happening to you?!
She forced a smile, pushing the ridiculous thought aside. "Good evening, Lord Florante. How are you?"
"You seem troubled, Lady Katherine."
"I was just thinking about a lot of things. So much has happened lately, and I’m trying to reorganize my thoughts."
Florante studied her carefully, his blue eyes deep with quiet thought. Then he said, "I hope everything turns out well for you soon. I have concerns myself."
"Oh? Someone like you has worries?" Katherine teased, crossing her arms. What could a protagonist possibly be worried about? The plot literally bends to help you, dude.
Florante sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My father expects a lot from me, as well as Antennor. I’m not sure if I’m doing well."
Katherine snorted. Not doing well? Did this guy not realize he was literally the main character?
"Oh, I think you’re doing great," she said, her tone light but firm. She knew exactly how his story would go—bravery, leadership, honor—all of it was practically written in the stars for him. "You should believe in yourself more."
Florante tapped his fingers lightly against the marble railing, his expression uncertain. "You sound so sure, Lady Katherine."
"I am." She met his gaze with a small smile. "I just know you’ll do great things."
For a second, Florante just looked at her, as if trying to figure out where her confidence in him came from. Then, for the first time, she saw him really smile. Not a polite smile. Not an amused one. But a genuine, quiet thank you written across his face.
"That means a lot to me," he said softly.
Something in his posture eased, as if some of the weight he carried had lightened. Maybe it was because of her words. Maybe it wasn’t. Either way, Katherine felt oddly satisfied.
Then Florante tilted his head slightly. "And you, Lady Katherine? What were you thinking about?"
"Oh..." She hesitated before replying, "I have a friend. A friend I met while traveling."
"I heard you traveled a lot."
"Yes. But I can’t go back to that place anymore, so I worry about that friend."
"That must be hard."
"And you see," she continued, leaning against the railing, "my friend has a problem, and I didn’t know how to answer her."
Florante turned to her, his expression calm but interested. "Is the problem serious?"
"Well..." Katherine exhaled. "She... likes someone much younger than her and doesn’t know how to stop it."
Florante went quiet, glancing up at the sky as if the moon would have the answer.
The garden felt especially serene tonight. The flowers shimmered with dew, the soft melody of a musician’s lute drifted from somewhere in the distance, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of roses through the air.
Finally, Florante spoke. "You can’t really control emotions, Lady Katherine. The heart wants what it wants."
Katherine nearly choked.
No, no, no. Don’t say stuff like that! I refuse to be in an angsty historical romance right now!
Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Florante continued, "Is she a noble, and the man a commoner?"
"No, they’re both nobles."
"I see." He rested his elbows on the railing, idly tracing patterns with his fingers. "In Albania, age doesn’t matter much in noble marriages. If marriage is needed, you go through with it—it’s your duty. But things are changing. The king is more open-minded now, so nobles can marry commoners, though some families still follow the old traditions."
Katherine hummed, absorbing his words. "It must be difficult for those caught between the old ways and the new."
Florante nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yes. Some struggle with that choice."
A brief silence passed before he suddenly added, "Like Laura. She’s two years younger than me."
"Two years isn’t much of a gap," she pointed out.
Florante smiled, but there was something... unreadable in his expression. "That’s true."
Katherine narrowed her eyes. Suspicious.
That wasn’t exactly the smile of a man excited to marry his fated love.
She wanted to ask. Should she ask? But prying into a protagonist’s love life seemed like a terrible life decision. Instead, she let the moment pass, turning her gaze to the flickering fireflies weaving between the rosebushes.
"About your friend," Florante said, his voice pulling her back, "she shouldn’t overthink it. It’s okay to have feelings without acting on them. No one will blame her for liking someone younger. She isn’t doing anything wrong."
Katherine blinked.
And then, she burst out laughing.
Florante raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
She shook her head, grinning. "You sound like an old man, Lord Florante."
Florante chuckled, a quiet amusement in his voice. "I suppose I do."
Their laughter echoed through the garden, a rare and fleeting moment of lightness. Fireflies blinked in and out of sight, their glow flickering like tiny stars among the leaves. For a while, their worries faded, carried away by the cool night breeze. Under the starry sky, they shared a peaceful moment—one untouched by duty, expectations, or fate.