The next day was a worse nightmare. Blaine had to deal with his broken dreams, as usual, but now he had a broken heart, too.

He avoided his father as much as he could, but it wasn't easy. He was, for once, happy that Lord Anderson usually ignored him as much as possible. It meant he didn't notice his red-rimmed eyes, or they way he moved unusually slow because his legs were sore after not only all the work he had done the previous day, but the long walk back after the ball.

And yet, in all his misery, Blaine couldn't stop thinking about the gorgeous prince that had held him as if hemattered. As if he was someone worth keeping close to his heart...

But the look in his stunning blue eyes when the spell came to an end and Prince Kurt discovered Blaine was an imposter... had that been disappointment? Blaine couldn't really blame him.

That was the same thing Blaine felt when he looked at himself.

"Eat something, Kurt, you..."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, you still need to eat."

"I have no apettite. I'll eat later."

Burt sat on the edge of his son's huge bed. Sometimes he forgot that, underneath all those sparkling crowns and elaborate outfits, his son was still a boy with the same troubles as any other. "That's what you said this morning."

"Well, I'm still not hungry," Kurt mumbled crossly into his pillow.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong any time soon?" Burt asked, patiently.

Kurt peeked at him sadly. "I think I'm in love with the boy from the ball."

"I figured that out all by myself while I watched you dance with him, son. Tell me something I don't know," Burt said, patting his knee.

Kurt sighed and turned over to lie on his back. He stared up at the ceiling, half pouting, half frowning. "I don't know how to find him again. I... I don't even know if the name he gave me is his real name."

"Considering that I'm the king, it should be fairly easy to pull some strings and find him," Burt shrugged. "I think what you're actually afraid of is falling in love with someone from such a different world."

Kurt bit his lip, thoughtful. "Not for the reasons you think. I don't care where he comes from, or how poor he is. I just keep worrying if maybe he snuck into the palace to find food because he was starving, and if he has warm enough clothes, and if he's in trouble..."

Burt smiled fondly. "Yes, son, I think it's safe to say you're in love."

Kurt sat up and looked at his father earnestly. "It's him.That'sthe boy I want to marry, dad."

The king squeezed his knee and winked an eye at him. "Then we better find him, because your wedding is in only a week."

Kurt took a deep breath and sighed. He really hoped he'd found the groom by then.

The street was crowded when Blaine shouldered his way out of the village's warehouse. He was carrying a huge bag of flour on his back and he could almost feel his spine bending under its weight. And even so, the sadness in his heart was a heavier burden than that.

He kept trying to make himself stop feeling the loss, but he hadn't succeeded at all. Every night when he went to sleep, he dreamed of the ball and Prince Kurt, only to wake up to the nightmare of his reality. His heart pounded wildly everytime he thought of that beautiful night, as if his memories were refusing to let the dream go. But Blaine knew very well that this was all his life was supposed to be. He would never be more than a lonely, exhausted boy who worked his way through life, going nowhere, expecting nothing.

He was getting ready to start the long walk back to the house under the scorching midday sun when he saw a group of people gathered around a wooden post near the butcher's shop. He never really cared about the gossip that the people from the village usually got excited about, but one word made its way into Blaine's ears, and that was enough to get his attention.

They were talking about the Prince.

Blaine turned around and approached them, eager to know what they were talking about. It was probably an announcement of Prince Kurt's wedding. Wasn't that the whole purpose of the ball? To find someone the Prince would marry? Blaine ignored the painful pang spreading through his chest.

"Excuse me," he mumbled, as people parted a little so he could step closer. Some look at him in disgust and simply left the group, others just made sure to keep their distance, reluctant to miss reading the announcement.

And Blaine's heart suddenly jolted crazily inside of him when he saw what it was about.

Prince Kurt was looking for the boy he had danced with during the ball. The poster said he intended to visit every single house in the kingdom until he found him.

Until he found Blaine.

His burden suddenly didn't seem as heavy as it used to.

Blaine wasn't sure what the Prince's search meant. Maybe he was trying to find the boy who had managed to sneak into the palace uninvited to punish him, although the sweetness he had perceived in Kurt when they had danced together dissuaded him from that idea.

But there was one thing Blaine was sure of: he would let the Prince find him.

Everyday, Blaine woke up early, and before starting another long day of working non-stop, he would gaze hopefully down the road, where he knew he would soon see Prince Kurt, riding on his white horse, looking for him.

Even if the reason why he was being looked for wasn't what he dreamed, Blaine felt hopeful. He would get to see the Prince again, and that was enough reason to smile.

Blaine really needed a reason to smile.

So this is love, mmmm
So this is love
So this is what makes life divine
I'm all aglow, mmmm

Lord Anderson looked up from the documents he was reading. Blaine was working in the second floor, but he could still hear his voice all the way from his study. It was soft, almost happy, and Lord Anderson frowned, displeased.

And now I know
The key to all heaven is mine
My heart has wings, mmmm
And I can fly
I'll touch ev'ry star in the sky
So this is the miracle that I've been dreaming of
Mmmmmm
Mmmmmm
So this is love

Love. Was the boy in love? But withwho? Maybe some kid from the village? Someone he had met while he was running one of his errans? How many of these sick perverted boyswasthere around here?

Lord Anderson stood up and walked away from his desk. He made his way upstairs quietly, until he stopped outside the room Blaine was currently dusting. He peeked inside, careful not to be seen.

The boy was dancing around the room, holding the duster to his chest, with his eyes closed, and the smile on his face told Lord Anderson that, in his imagination, he was somewhere else. He was far away from there, in someone's arms, dancing around a ballroom that...

Lord Anderson was startled by the realization. But no... it couldn't be. Blaine was never one to disobey orders; he had made sure the boy knew what the consequences of that would be years ago.

He tried to remember the details from the night at the palace. He had been too busy trying to get closer to the King to talk to him, to win his favor to notice what the Prince was doing. He didn't care about the disgusting boy who kept looking at the group of male guests as if he was deciding which of them was his next prey.

But he hadn't been too busy to notice the commotion when the Prince started dancing with one of the boys. The crowd had gathered around them and he hadn't been able to see his partner's face, but he had heard the whispers, had felt the way the guests vibrated with excitement at this new occasion to gossip. And he had, as well, noticed that the strange boy's departure had been quite abrupt. After that, the ball had ended just as abruptly, and he hadn't had time to find out exactly what had happened. He had forgotten all about it the next day, too busy with his own business to care, but now...

Now it all seemed to make sense, somehow.

Blaine kept humming as he moved around the room, working. The brat's broken spirit seemed to be suddenly restored.

Maybe Lord Anderson needed to ensure he broke it permanently.

Blaine was working in the kitchen when he looked up and saw, in the distance, a small group of men on horses approaching the house, one of them holding the prince's standard.

His heart leapt all the way up to his throat and he dropped the pot he had been scrubbing back into the soapy water. He knew exactly who it was without the need to see him any closer. It washim. it was finally him...

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Blaine looked down at himsef. His clothes were dirty and he was, too, probably. He immediately turned around and ran out through the back door. Maybe he could wash his face and change into his other clothes. He had washed them just a few days ago, and he had been saving them, just in case...

He arrived at the stable and started rummaging for his other shirt. There was a bar of soap and a bucket with some water that he had put there this morning...

The light in the tiny room dimmed. He spun around, confused, only to see the door was closing slowly, blocking out the rays of sunlight. He moved quickly to try and stop it, thinking it was probably the wind pushing it close...

But as soon as his hand touched the worn wood, he felt something fighting against him. Frowning, Blaine pushed harder, but the door was shoved by another hand.

"What..." he muttered in confusion.

"You're going to stay in there for a while," his father's cold voice said. Blaine stopped pushing out of absolute shock and he stumbled back a few steps. "Some important visitors are about to arrive and I don't want them to see you."

Blaine's breath hitched in horror. "No..." he shook his head. "No! Let me out of here! You have to let me out of here, please!"

"Why are you so impatient to go back to the house, uhm?" Lord Anderson asked maliciously. "Don't you usually avoid visitors? Don't you usually feel completely ashamed when someone sees you, sees the disgusting little animal you are?"

"Milord, please..." Blaine begged. He peeked through a hole in the wood, but he couldn't see much. Just a piece of sky and some grass.

"Or is it that you know exactly what those visitors want?" Lord Anderson continued, a smirk clear in his voice. "But no, it can't be that, can it, Blaine? Because what would thePrincewant withyou?"

Desperation crept up Blaine's throat, choking him. He couldn'tknow, could he? "Milord..."

"You disobeyed me, didn't you, Blaine? You went to the ball without my permission."

Blaine closed his eyes, squeezing the tears out of his eyes, to fall down his cheeks. "Please..."

"There's no use in begging. You can't disrespect me like that and expect no consequences, Blaine. You need to be punished..." Lord Anderson started walking away. His voice became more faint in the distance. "Stay quiet while I talk to the Prince."

"No..." Blaine said weakly. He started pushing at the door frantically and it didn't take long for his skin to crack and his palms to start bleeding. "No! Dad, please!"

But he was gone, and Blaine was trapped.

Kurt descended from his horse gracefully and looked around as a shiver ran down his spine. He didn't know what it was about this place, but he didn't like it...

The door opened after a few knocks from one of his pages. A man that was around the same age as his own father was suddenly grinning widely at them.

"Your Highness," he said, with a slight bow. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here. Please, come in."

Kurt walked into the house, so cool after riding under the blazing sun. He was tired. For the last three days he had done nothing but go from village to village, knocking on every door, looking for the boy. Blaine. His sweet Blaine.

He and his retinue were guided into a large sitting room tastefully decorated. He took a seat and looked at his host. There was something in his cold amber eyes... but no, he couldn't place exactly what it was.

"To what do I owe this honor, Your Highness?" Lord Anderson asked, as he lowered himself in the seat opposite his.

"You may have heard that I'm on a quest to find a boy I danced with at the ball," Kurt explained calmly. He had said these same words so many times already, and yet he would say them a thousand more if it meant he would find the boy he was searching for. "It is of vital importance for me to find him."

"Well, Your Highness, of course I've heard about it," Lord Anderson said in a cloying voice. "But I still don't understand why that quest would bring you here. I'm the only one in this household that attended that ball, and I'm sure I'm not the person you're looking for..."

One of Kurt's pages handed him a few documents. He scanned through them quickly. "Don't you have a son, Lord Anderson?"

"I do," Lord Anderson nodded slowly and then sighed sadly. "But I'm afraid my sweet boy is very, very sick. He has been like that since his mother's death. He can't even leave his bed, so it would've been impossible for him to get to the palace."

Kurt put the documents down, his hopes fading. "And what about any servants, Lord Anderson? Do you have any servant boys in this house?"

"Servant boys?" Lord Anderson repeated, perplexed. "No, Your Highness. I only have a maid, and she's out running errands in the village right now."

"I see..." Kurt closed his eyes. One less house, one less chance to find Blaine. "Well, thank you for your kidness and patience."

He stood up and started walking toward the door. Lord Anderson followed.

"I'm very sorry I couldn't be of any help. If you think of something I can do for you or your father, Your Highness, please let me know."

Kurt didn't like this man, and he didn't know why. "I will. Thank you again, Lord Anderson. Have a good day."

Kurt climbed on his horse and he and his men started riding away from the house. As the horse trotted lightly, Kurt turned to look over his shoulder. There was a small stable barely visible behind the enormous house, and an old dog was desperately scratching the door with its front paws, whining.

Kurt felt a little tug on his chest and, for a moment, he considered turning around and going to the stable to see what had the poor animal so anxious. But he couldn't waste any more time. He needed to find Blaine. His wedding was in four days and if he didn't find him, he would have to marry one of the eligible princesses or duchess that he had met during the ball.

Closing his eyes to try and find some strength, Kurt turned back ahead and urged his horse to move quicker.

Blaine slumped to the floor and hid his face in his hands when he heard the fading gallop that meant the Prince and his men were leaving, mixed with Bruno's whining on the other side of the door.

His only hope was once again shattered to pieces. When would he learn his lesson? When would he realize there was no point in dreaming?

He hugged his knees to his chest and cried, cried for what seemed like ages, right there on the dirty floor of the stable.

Lord Anderson didn't come back to let him out.

A couple of nights later, Kurt tossed and turned in his big bed, caught up in a dream that had been haunting him for the past few nights, making him feel uneasy. The constant whining of a dog and the sound of a rickety door trembling with the stormy wind filled his senses. He could see the shape of an old stable barely visible in the darkness of the night, but everytime he tried to walk to it to see why the dog was crying, he felt a hand gripping his elbow, and when he turned aroud, Lord Anderson's unpleasant smile was right there, as he tried to tug him in the opposite direction.

Finally, Kurt sat up on the bed, startled, shivering. He didn't know what time it was, but the palace was plunged into a deep silence. In the morning, he would have to meet with his father and choose the person he would be marrying the next day. His time had run out and he still hadn't found Blaine...

But Kurt had never been one to give up so easily. He would keep looking until he found him, even if it meant he would be out searching an hour before the actually wedding took place. He pushed the rumpled blankets aside and stood up. He couldn't waste more time sleeping.

As he sunk his feet into his boots, he knew exactly where he would go.

Tightening his thin blanket around himself, Blaine moaned miserably. He closed his eyes, hoping he would fall asleep, but his stomach was growling, clamoring for something to fill the emptiness in it, and it was impossible to ignore it. His muscles felt weak and he couldn't move, not even to try and find a more comfortable position.

Lord Anderson had locked him up, and he hadn't bothered coming back to unlock the door or to give him food. Blaine didn't know if he planned to release him any time soon or not, but he didn't really care anymore either way.

A familiar wetness clung to his eyelashes as a new batch of tears filled his eyes. How could he still have tears to cry? Blaine was convinced he had cried them all already.

He knew from the silence surrounding the stable that it was the middle of the night. He wasn't sure how long he had been there, but he hoped it all would be over soon.

He wondered if he would get to see his mother again once he died...

Blaine unconciously licked the tears that had made their way down his face, but it wasn't enough to wet his dry mouth, which felt like it was made of sand.

If this was the end, then it sure was the saddest of ends.

He closed his eyes, trying not to think about the cold or the hunger. He tried to remember how it had felt to have the Prince's arms around him, how blue his eyes had been, how sweet and melodic his voice...

His own voice was almost a croak when he parted his lips to sing faintly. "And now I know... The key to all heaven is mine... My heart has wings... And I can fly..."

But then a huge sob seemed to rip his soul apart, and the rest of the song was lost in his cry of pain.

Kurt brought the horse to a stop as he regarded the dark house in front of him. it was well past midnight, so he was sure Lord Anderson wasn't awake, but he had to make sure he'd checked everywhere. Being the Prince didn't mean he couldn't get in trouble, so he still needed to be careful he wasn't discovered snooping around.

The stable stood just as dark, and mysterious as the house. Kurt knew he was probably crazy, but he was also desperate to find Blaine, and if he had to search through every last inch of the kingdom, he would do so willingly... at least, until he ran out of time.

He lowered the hood that covered his head as he walked to the stable, followed closely by his horse, but then he stepped on a branch, that cracked under his boot, and the dog from the other day suddenly appeared from around the back of the stable, growling menacingly.

"Ssh," Kurt whispered soothingly. "It's okay, boy."

The dog growled again, but Kurt forgot about the possibility of being bitten when he heard the faint sound of a wavering voice coming from within the rickety wooden walls.

"And now I know... The key to all heaven is mine... My heart has wings... And I can fly..."

In his sudden amazement, he moved too quickly and the dog took another step towards him. Kurt put his hands low in front of him, trying to show the animal that he was not a threat and that he wouldn't hurt him. An agonized sob came from the stable and the song died out. Kurt's heart clenched in anguish.

He put his hand on the wooden surface of the stable. "Blaine..." he whispered in just a sigh.

The dog barked and moved towards him once again.

"Bruno..." The voice said from inside, cracking raggedly.

Upon hearing his name in his master's voice, the dog went to the door, suddenly forgetting about Kurt, and started whining in the same way Kurt had seen on his first visit. Kurt examined the door. It seemed very fragile, but it was obviously locked somehow...

Impatient, Kurt started pushing at it with his shoulder. Bruno barked louder, but he didn't growl anymore.

"Bruno, stop..." the voice said, weakly. "He's going to be m-mad at you too if you aren't quiet..."

"Just a bit more," Kurt huffed under his breath, and with one last violent push, the door ceded, breaking out of its hinges and collapsing on the floor.

It was even darker inside the stable, if that was possible. Kurt squinted his eyes, trying to see something, but it wasn't until he got used to the lack of light that he was able to see the small figure wrapped up in a threadbare blanket, crouched in a corner on the floor.

"W-who is that?" The boy asked, nervously. "C-Cooper?"

Kurt had no idea who Cooper was, but he didn't want to waste any time asking irrelevant questions now. "No. I'm not Cooper. Are you... are you Blaine?"

His voice seemed to drag the boy out of some kind of daze. He leaned against the wall and tried to get up, stumbling a few times before succeeding. He took a few wobbling steps forward, until he was standing in front of Kurt. The faint moonlight fell on him, and Kurt was able to recognize a pair of very beautiful eyes, although they seemed to have lost their spark.

"Y-your Highness?" Blaine asked, hesitantly.

"Oh, Blaine," the relief flooding Kurt made his knees go weak. "Blaine, I can't believe it's you..."

Blaine made an attempt to bow, but that almost sent him right back to the floor. Kurt reached to grab his arm, steadying him.

"Careful. Are you feeling alright?" Kurt could feel the chill of Blaine's body through the thin layers of clothes.

"I'm..." Blaine still seemed to have trouble understanding what was going on. "Your Highness... why are you here? You can't be here."

"I've been looking for you everywhere," Kurt answered softly, cupping the boy's face in his hand.

"But... why? I'm not worth finding," Blaine replied, his voice just as broken as his heart.

"No, Blaine, no," Kurt wrapped his arm around the boy's waist, supporting him upright. He rested their foreheads together. "You're not only worth finding; you're also worth keeping."

Blaine exhaled shakily, unable to believe he wasn't still dreaming. He shook his head meekly. "I'm just a servant. I'm nothing."

"You're everything," Kurt countered, his heart aching when he saw how terribly thin Blaine was he wondered to himself how long it had been since he'd had a proper meal.

Blaine's only response was to shiver violently in his arms.

"You need to eat something and get warm," Kurt muttered, concerned. "I'll take you back to the palace."

"Your Highness..."

"It's Kurt, remember?" Kurt interrupted, drowning out Blaine's weak attempts to protest.

"K-Kurt. Why are you doing this?" Blaine mumbled in confusion.

Kurt brushed his knuckles down Blaine's cheek, slowly. "Because I fell in love with the boy who was brave enough to dance with me in front of everyone else."

A tiny sob escaped through Blaine's lips. "That boy doesn't exist. It was just a bunch of pretty clothes on a simple servant..."

"No," Kurt put a hand on Blaine's heart, feeling the slow thump against his fingers. "It was you, because I could see beyond the pretty clothes, just like you could see me beyond my crown."

"I didn't know you were the prince..."

"And I didn't know you were a servant," Kurt shrugged. "And now that I do know it... I really don't care."

Blaine blinked, trying to discern Kurt's face in the darkness. "Your...- Kurt, do you..." He stopped, swallowed slowly to clear his heart from his throat. "Do you mean what you said? Are you...?"

"In love with you?" Kurt finished for him when Blaine fell silent. "Yes. And if you don't feel the same, it's fine. I'm going to help you out of here anyway. This is criminal mistreatment."

"I've had dreams about you," Blaine answered instead. "Beautiful dreams where you arrived to take me away from Lord Anderson in your white horse..."

Kurt smiled softly. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, darling, but my horse isn't actually white."

And with the little strength he had left, Blaine laughed.

Kurt helped Blaine out of the stable. The boy leaned against the Prince's horse and patted Bruno's head while Kurt went back to try to find Blaine's mother's fairy tale book. He couldn't leave without it.

Blaine closed his eyes. He was exhausted, but something was trying to grow inside of him, a wave of happiness that he had never experienced before.

It lasted only a few seconds before fear was running through his veins again.

"You sneaky little rat!" Lord Anderson exclaimed, as he grabbed Blaine's clothes and pulled him away from the horse. "How did you get out? And where did you steal this horse?"

Bruno barked and tried to bite Lord Anderson's leg, but with a quick kick, the man pushed the dog away.

"I didn't steal anything!" Blaine said, trying to pry his hands away from him. "Let me go!"

"I'm not letting you go," Lord Anderson spat. "You're nothing but a stupid little boy. Did you think the Prince would come find you? Did you think you would leave this house behind? You were born here and you'll die here, just like your mother!"

"Stop it!" Blaine shook, trying to get away, but he was too weak.

"I've been cursed with a whore for a wife and a disgusting abnormal rat for a son," Lord Anderson said, his words tainted with hatred. "But you'll get what you deserve..."

Blaine never learned what exactly Lord Anderson thought he deserved, because suddenly, the moonlight reflected from the blade of a sword as it was pressed against Lord Anderson's throat.

"Let. Him. Go," Kurt bit out, clenching his teeth furiously.

Lord Anderson obliged immediately and turned, wide-eyed, to stare in astonishment at the prince. "Your Highness!"

"He's yourson?" Kurt asked, incredulous, as he felt rage burning through him. "He's your son and this is how you treat him?"

"Oh, Your Highness, it's not what it looks like!" Lord Anderson tried to laugh as he eyed the sword warily. "Blaine is..."

"Almost starved to death? A prisoner in his own house? Cruelly abused? Yes, he is," Kurt said sharply. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll leave the kingdom immediately, because as soon as we get to the palace, I'm sending the royal guards for you, and I'll make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison."

Something flashed in Lord Anderson's eyes, something that looked a lot like burning wrath. "You might be the Prince, but you have no power to take him from me."

"Oh, don't test me," Kurt said, as his knuckles went white with how hard he was gripping his sword. "I have more power than you think. And he does, too."

"Blaine?" Lord Anderson laughed humorlessly. "Blaine is worthless."

"Blaine is one of your future kings, so you'd better start showing him some respect," Kurt pressed the sword a little closer to Lord Anderson's throat.

Blaine's eyes went round and big like tea saucers. Aking, him? What did Kurt mean? His heart beat a little louder, but he was tired of hoping for things that never came true, so, just in case, he pushed the thought out of his mind.

"It's your choice, Lord Anderson," Kurt said in a hard tone. "You can turn around now and leave the kingdom forever, or you can stay here and I'll cut your throat."

Lord Anderson let out a vicious little hiss, before he turned to run towards the house.

Still shaking in rage, Kurt turned around to find Blaine looking at him with absolute shock in his hazel eyes.

"We'd better hurry back to the palace. I'd dearly love the guards to capture him before he has time to escape our lands," Kurt extended a hand for Blaine to take.

Blaine stared at that hand, at that open invitation to a life he had barely dare to dream of. "W-what are you going to do with me?"

"Well," Kurt smiled and took a step forward. He hooked a finger under Blaine's chin to keep their eyes locked. "I plan to love you for the rest of my days. That is, if you accept."

Blaine's mouth dropped open. Here was the fairy tale he had thought he'd never had, the kind of thing that only happened in books. Here was the prince he had always wanted, patiently waiting for him to take his hand.

"Only if you let me love you back," Blaine finally answered shyly. "Because I already do and I can't really stop anymore..."

A smile lit up Kurt's entire face. Their fingers slotted together and Kurt pulled him closer gently. "I'm so glad I found you, Blaine."

"Thank you for searching, Kurt," Blaine whispered.

Kurt closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together. It was warm and sweet and wonderful, and Blaine wished he had enough strength to keep kissing him, but his knees were about to give out. When Kurt ended the kiss, they looked each other in the eyes and smiled bashfully.

"Let's get you to the palace. You need food, a bath and some sleep," Kurt climbed on the horse and then pulled Blaine up, settling him in front of him so he could keep him warm. Blaine sighed in contentment as he snuggled against Kurt's chest, exhausted.

"Can Bruno come with us?" Blaine asked sleepily.

"Of course he can," Kurt kissed his forehead. "I'll go slow enough so he can follow us."

"Thank you..." Blaine gave him a little smile.

With one last kiss to Blaine's forehead and a look back to make sure Bruno was following them, Kurt made the horse turn so they could go to the palace. Blaine was asleep before they even left the Anderson property, but Kurt couldn't blame him. It was better this way, he needed his rest.

After all, they had a wedding to get ready for tomorrow.