Chapter 484: ’Tell Him Now.’
Heinz told Afton... everything.
And it truly was everything.
From the fragments of his first life, to the stolen memories with Florian; from the slow, unwilling realization that he was in love with him, to the bitterness that curdled into cruelty—the very same cruelty that had driven him to hurt Florian in the past.
He spoke of the two Florians: the real one he had once known and lost, and the current one whose presence still tied knots in his chest.
He spoke of dying, of waking again, and of the endless chain of events that followed.
He confessed the truth he could barely admit to himself—that he wanted to love this current Florian, yet was shackled to the shadow of the original one.
He even spoke of the impossible—his meeting with the real Florian inside that strange, fragile space of the mind.
Afton remained silent throughout. No note-taking. No interruptions. His expression was maddeningly still, like a man chiseling every word into memory but revealing nothing of what it meant to him.
When Heinz finally stopped speaking, the air between them felt heavier, but... also looser.
’Strange... I feel lighter. Almost... relieved.’
Because now, someone else knew.
Someone other than Florian—someone who could see this mess without being the object of his love, his guilt, and his fear.
It was a quiet comfort, to unburden himself to someone who wasn’t at the heart of it all.
But even so, Heinz wasn’t ready to tell Florian everything.
Not yet.
And deep down, he suspected Florian might already know.
"Well? What can you say?" Heinz asked, arms crossing over his chest, his gaze sharp and unyielding. He was curious—dangerously
curious—about what the psychologist would say after hearing everything.’If he overreacts... I’ll kill him before he gets the chance to leave this room.’
Afton stared back for a long, unnerving moment, then cleared his throat.
"Uhm... well, first of all... I can understand why you threatened me, Your Majesty. That’s truly..." he hesitated, his lips twitching as if unsure whether to smile or tremble, "...magnificent."
Heinz’s brow arched. "Magnificent? That’s the last word I’d use for this situation."
"It is," Afton said, his voice steadying. "A regression? And not just that—one that reshaped your perception so completely it’s altered your actions, your decisions... maybe even your very nature? That’s extraordinary from a psychological standpoint."
He leaned forward slightly, eyes glinting with a spark of academic fascination. "And the prince—two souls in one body? One trapped in the mental space? That’s beyond rare."
Heinz narrowed his eyes.
"What do you mean," Heinz asked, tone cautious, "that the regression changed my perception?"
"Well, Your Majesty," Afton began, folding his hands, "let me explain. What I see is not just a man retrieving lost memories. I see someone whose very worldview is shifting. You’ve been forced to confront feelings—especially toward the original Prince Florian—that you once suppressed or twisted into something else. That kind of change leaves deep marks."
He gestured toward a chair and then took a seat himself, as if inviting Heinz to do the same. "I think I can help you understand the man you were, and the man you are now. And maybe why you can’t seem to stop yourself from orbiting the prince, no matter how much you hate yourself for it."
’Hate myself?’ Heinz felt a flicker of heat in his chest.
Did Heinz...hate himself?
"Though," Afton added, "this might take a while."
"I have all the time in the world," Heinz replied, his voice firm, but the truth was quieter inside him.
’If there’s even the smallest chance I can love my Florian without... destroying him—or myself—then I’ll listen. I’ll listen to anyone.’
Even if it meant putting his trust in this doctor.
Afton nodded slowly, his voice calm but weighted.
"Due to your trauma from the former king and the former queen, you already had an aversion to love. You were obviously... in love with the original Prince Florian—perhaps from the moment you met him—but you refused to allow yourself to love him back."
Heinz’s eyes narrowed faintly, but Afton pressed on.
"And as for the original Prince Florian... based on my understanding, and from what you’ve told me, he seemed desperate for that love. Desperate in a way that made you... both afraid of him, and yet drawn to him."
Heinz’s gaze sharpened at that. "Afraid and drawn to him? I was certainly... pushing him away, because he reminded me of my mother. But that drew me to him?"
Afton’s lips quirked in a faint, knowing smile.
"Well, Your Majesty, to me... you were just like him. You were as desperate for him as he was for you—you said it yourself. You kept finding your way back to him, despite repeatedly erasing your own memories of him."
He paused, his hands gesturing lightly as if painting the truth into the air.
"I believe, deep inside, you weren’t scared that he was like your mother. You were scared that you were like your mother. That you would love him so much... to the point of—"
’Wanting to die.’ Heinz’s breath caught, his fists tightening until his knuckles ached.
Afton caught the flicker in his expression and gave a small, satisfied nod.
"Judging from your face, you’re starting to understand. You were drawn to his desperation because it mirrored your own. It made you believe your love was truly reciprocated. He was as crazed for you as you were for him. And so, even without your memories... you still found your way back to his arms. You still kept falling for him."
He leaned back slightly, his gaze softening but never losing its edge.
"And I must give credit where it’s due—to the original Prince Florian. Despite remembering everything, he loved you enough to accept you every time."
That’s right. Heinz hadn’t even thought about it until now—The original Florian... remembered everything.
Despite the pain, the tears, the betrayals... he would still open his arms.
Still let Heinz into his bed.
Still whisper that he loved him.
Even after Heinz had him executed.
’He still loved me.’
The thought hit like a blade twisting in his chest. His breath hitched, and that dull ache he thought long-buried began to pulse again, sharp and relentless.
’Why... does it hurt now? Why do I feel like I’m mourning someone I already killed?’
His heart throbbed as though it wanted to split open.
"Why... was it so easy for me to fall for this Florian? The current Florian?" His voice was unsteady, low. "I wasn’t even... that scared. I—" He stopped, unable to finish. He didn’t know if what churned inside him was regret or something else entirely. But he knew one thing—
Heinz felt heartbroken.
Heartbroken for the part of himself he had forgotten.
Heartbroken for the entirety of the original Florian’s life.
’I don’t deserve to love this one.’
Not the current Florian. Not the one he’d already destroyed.
"For me," Afton began, his tone steady but careful, "it’s because in this life, you’ve already worked through much of your trauma. Not all of it, but enough. The fact that someone killed you—it changed your perspective. You’ve lived through a whole lifetime already. That gave you maturity you didn’t have before."
He studied Heinz, his eyes narrowing slightly. "There’s also the fact that the Florian you have now... doesn’t remind you of your mother. Or of that part of yourself you feared."
"But you said..." Heinz’s voice dipped almost to a whisper. "Florian’s desperation was what drew me to him."
Afton nodded without hesitation. "Yes. Back then, it was unhealthy... but now, you’re allowing yourself to fall for him in a healthy way. What you had with the original Florian, and what he had with you—it was love, but it was dangerous. Perhaps your fears were right. Maybe one of you... or both of you... would have been destroyed in that relationship."
Heinz’s hands clenched. "So... you’re saying because we had a different start this time... a different approach... what I have now with my Florian... might be the right kind of love?"
"Yes," Afton said simply, firmly. "Proof enough is in the way you’re trying to communicate. You’re not running anymore. You’re facing things head-on. You want to better yourself. Think of the original Florian as... an ex-lover. Someone you had a great love with, but a love that ultimately couldn’t last. Now, with this one, you’re doing all the things you couldn’t do before. That’s growth, Heinz. Massive growth."
Heinz’s eyes lowered. His voice was softer now, vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be."Even when I feel like I don’t... have the right to love him?"
"The fact that you feel like that, Your Majesty," Afton began, his voice steady but warm, "just means you do have the right to love this one. And... I’ll speak a bit more unprofessionally now, so forgive me, but—"
He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Seeing the great King of Concordia this vulnerable? Over one person? It’s... astonishing. But even then, right now, I don’t just see a king. I see a man—a man who wants to love. And why should a mistake that hasn’t happened yet, or one that doesn’t ever need to happen again... stop you?"
Heinz’s throat tightened. His gaze drifted downward, almost afraid to meet Afton’s eyes.
"The original Florian..." he murmured.
"Only wanted you to remember—just as you said," Afton replied softly. "He just... wanted you to remember. And now, you do. If this current Florian loves you as well... should you really hurt him because of guilt?"
Oh.
The truth struck like a clear chime in his mind—sharp, undeniable.
’Afton’s right.’
If Florian loved him back—truly loved him—Heinz couldn’t bear to break his heart just because he was drowning in ghosts of the past.
He would keep trying to atone for what he had done to the original Florian. That debt would never leave him. But this... this was different.
Heinz loved his Florian.
’I love my Florian now.’
And he didn’t want to let him go. Not again. Not ever.
Afton’s eyes softened. "I can tell by the look on your face, Your Majesty—you truly love the current Prince Florian. I suggest you tell him right away."
Heinz’s lips parted. He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. Especially now—now that he finally understood.
However...
"I will," Heinz said quietly. His voice was firm but carried the weight of something unspoken. "But... I still have one more memory I want to see."