'Something's Wrong With Me'

Florian tried his best.

He tried his best to ignore it.

Even after his dance with Athena, even as the music swelled and the nobility continued their endless murmurs, he tried.

But it was getting worse.

The unease clawed at him, insidious and unrelenting, coiling in the pit of his stomach and creeping beneath his skin like fire smoldering just beneath the surface. His body betrayed him in ways he couldn't explain. It wasn't just nerves—he knew that now.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

But what?

He had no idea.

A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, the pressure building as though something inside him was pressing outward. His skin burned, unbearably hot, his clothes clinging too tightly to his body, suffocating. Every breath came uneven, shallow, dragging through a throat that felt painfully dry.

A hand trembled at his side. His?

"Your Highness… are you sure y-you're okay?"