Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!

Troy glanced sideways at him, concern etched into his usually playful face. "You alright?" he asked, hands tucked neatly behind his back like a proper soldier, but his eyes gave away the worry.

Riven turned his head, a mischievous glint already forming in his emerald eyes. He wasn't about to show the tangle of emotions he felt, grief, bitterness, the sting of old scars reopening. No. He would wrap it all in a pretty bow of flirtation and teasing instead.

With a cocky smile, he leaned slightly closer to Troy, his voice dropping into a sultry lilt. "You offering to comfort me, Troy? I know a few things we could do. Hands-on things. Therapeutic."

Troy went red instantly—like a tomato dipped in boiling water. "N-No thank you!" he stammered, practically hopping a step away from Riven. "I mean—it's not that you're not… You're very attractive! I mean, objectively! But I value my life, Riven!"

Riven arched a brow, laughing softly at the reaction. "I knew it. You're scared of Ronan."

"I'm terrified of Ronan," Troy corrected, eyes wide, hands now up in surrender. "And Soren. Both of them could kill me with a single glare. You, my dear friend, are like a cursed jewel resting on a bed of spikes. Beautiful, tempting—and absolutely dangerous."

Riven blinked for a moment, "Are you admitting you like me, but will not act on it because of those two?" He said with a cheeky smile.

Troy was about to argue, but then decided to play along. "Yes, that is why I killed my love for you, I don't love you anymore. Stay away from me and do not tempt me if you care about me even a little bit!"

"Damn, that was very bad acting." Riven mocked.

"Cut me some slack, I'm not an expert in being dramatic like you."

Riven smirked, walking ahead of him with a casual swing in his step. "Aw, you're no fun. I'd even let you touch my hair."

---

Back in the Lion kingdom...

Leon's strides through the palace courtyard echoed ominously off the marble walls, each step carrying more weight than the last.

Catalina had accompanied him this far, an unspoken gesture, a nod to family. But as soon as they crossed the grand gates, she veered off toward her own palace, her departure silent and final.

Leon nearly faltered at her retreating figure, but pride pushed him on. The lack of a return glance burned hot in his mind: even his own sister would not walk beside him as the king.

Wrapped in heavy emotions—resentment, anger, guilt, and sadness—Leon made his way through the opulent corridors toward the royal throne room. Servants recoiled from him, hurried their bows, lowered their eyes.

They all knew the news: the border town had been breached, Soren and Riven had arrived, and Leon's soldiers had hesitated. Rumour reached them: he'd chosen war, or a standoff. over diplomacy.

As the heavy doors to the Dowager Queen's study parted, she looked up immediately. Her expression was immaculately calm, but her lips twitching, told another story.

"Where have you been, Leon?" She demanded, her gaze as cool as polished stone. "You left the court without approval. You abandoned your duty."

"My duty?" Leon echoed, voice strained. "There's a war brewing, and I walked away?" His shoulders slumped.

The Dowager Queen's eyebrows knitted together. "Feeling regret is not a privilege for kings, my son."

Leon felt a snarl rise in his chest. "Maybe I don't want to be king anymore," he snapped, shock entirely absent from his own voice. He barely recognised the venom in his words, but he couldn't stop himself. It spread like wildfire across the room, igniting stunned silence.

The Dowager Queen stared—eyes wide for the first time in decades. A wave of disbelief flickered over her regal features, like a statue suddenly cracking at the edges. "You- You take that back, Leon Aurestis de Vaelmont Eldor. I made you the King! Something people yearn for, live their whole lives vying for such power, influence!"

"I said what I said. Leave me alone." Leon brushed past his mother, not looking at her again.

The Dowager Queen did not reply. She had spent decades shaping him into the son she believed their kingdom needed: strong, unyielding, stubborn. But he- He just said that he wanted to give up his title?! How dare he...

The Dowager Queen opened her mouth, doubt touching her stern posture. But she closed it. Perhaps for the first time since his birth, she let her son walk away without words. There were a million thoughts that ran through her mind... Still, she regretted nothing. She did what was best for her kingdom.

Leon left the throne room behind him, each echoed footstep heavier than the last. He found his bedchamber and slipped inside, closing the door with a soft click. He didn't make an effort to lighten the mood: torches burned low, red silk drapes fluttered in the cooling breeze, and his room, which was supposed to be his safe haven, reminded him of the burden he bore.

Nothing was going his way. Catalina's cold silence felt like betrayal. His mother's expectation clung to him like a second skin. Rudeness toward a highlord, a failed treaty, the shock of his own aloud question—did I even want to be king?

He was not supposed to be a king, but he became one... And it cost him everything. He could not even blame his mother fully... Sure, it was her decision, but not once did he question it, because back then, he wanted that power. He was that spoiled, arrogant man everyone thought he was. And he felt like entitled to the throne.

Images flooded through his mind, too fast to contain. He saw himself at six, running through this same courtyard, arms outstretched, laughing as his sisters chased him. He remembered Catalina gently braiding his hair as they prepared for a family ball, her fingers weaving his golden strands into elaborate styles.

'She should have gotten the throne...' Leon admitted softly to himself.