The next morning, after very little sleep in a bed left too cold when Kurt returned to his own rooms, Blaine immediately called for Santana to ask for a progress report.

“We’ve received a message from Lord Ryan of Westvale,” she said, shuffling several letters back and forth as she looked over them. “He’s withholding his money until court resumes—according to his letter he’s withholding judgment on who he should support for the crown. Basically, the little twit is trying to get something out of it; he mentions something about a seat on your privy council. Do you even have a privy council?”

“Not yet. Tell him that council seats will be offered to those willing to show the crown their loyalty and cooperation,” Blaine said, shaking his head at the letter as he browsed through it, aggravated by the pompous expectation of special treatment that Lord Ryan had barely bothered to contain. “If I remember correctly, Lord Ryan is particularly competitive, isn’t he?”

“I’ll say,” Santana corroborated. “The idiot’s been injured before trying to best his huntsmen and trainers. If rumors are true, he’s got a nice burn scar on his forearm from trying to outdo a juggler who was working with fire at the time.”

Everyone has scars…

“Then let him know he’ll be most welcome at court when it resumes, and we’ll be sure to save him an apartment near that of Lord Rumba, with whom I believe he is closely acquainted.”

“You mean they hate each other,” Santana corrected. “Besides, Rumba’s not coming to court.”

“Ryan doesn’t need to know that.”

Something clicked with Santana and she looked distinctly impressed.

“You want Ryan to think Rumba’s in favor with you, and by now word of Rumba’s support will have reached the other Lords.”

“That’s the idea.”

Santana smirked and nodded. “That’s sufficiently nasty of you, Blaine. I approve. When did you get so good at manipulating big-headed morons?”

“I seem to have a knack,” Blaine said, smiling and shrugging. He didn’t think it appropriate to mention that he’d grown up with a lot of big heads around him. “We’ll see if it works. What else have you got there?”

“Well, you should know we have a very tired stable boy passed out in one of the spare rooms in the servants’ quarters,” she said, plucking three pages of parchment that had been folded together out of the pile and handing it to Blaine. “He rode all through the night to get here as soon as possible. From Defiance.”

“Defiance?” Blaine blurted. “But Mike would’ve only gotten there yesterday—“

“You’re going to want to read the letter.”

Blaine sat down and started reading. He felt Santana watching him closely as his face drew down with every line. When he finished, he laid the pages down and ran a hand over his face, feeling very tired.

“That was an interesting letter,” he said finally, sighing.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Santana smirked. “She’s certainly got a lot to say, doesn’t she?”

Blaine nodded, picking up the letter again and going back and forth between the pages as though looking for something.

“I can’t believe this,” he mumbled. “She’s willing to pay half now. Half. That’s a great deal of coin to just…give away. She must have been saving an awful lot.”

“Of course she is. How else is she going to get a husband?”

Blaine felt his face blanch, his blood running suddenly cold.

“She just sent me her dowry.”

Santana looked as though she were very much trying not to laugh. Blaine glared.

“She’s trying to gain my favor so that…so that I’ll marry her?”

“Seems like it from the letter,” Santana said, shrugging carelessly. “She spent an awful lot of time convincing you of her many merits."

“Did the stable boy have anything else?”

“He did,” Santana replied. “He has word of a guarded cart coming to us. It’s due later this evening.”

“And what is in this cart?”

“Lady Harmony’s payment.”

Blaine dropped the letter.

“She sent it already?”

Santana cocked her head at him.

“Do you really think that she’s going to waste any time?” Santana asked, suddenly not looking amused. “Blaine, you’re the Prince. And you’re completely eligible for marriage.”

“Santana, I know that you know—“

“You’re not really, I know,” she said, waving him off. “But it’s not like you can tell Harmony that. Or any of the other ladies who are going to be doing their best to catch your eye for the rest of your life.”

“But…once they see me—“

“It’s not going to matter, Blaine. Let’s face it; most of these women would marry a toad if it got them a crown. I’m pretty sure you looking like you got kissed by a harrow isn’t going to stop most of them. Unless he got you below the belt, then we’ll have a problem, but judging by the smug look on Hummel’s face at all hours of the day, I’d say we’re safe.”

“Santana—“

“Look, we don’t have to talk about it now, but you’re going to have to face that problem sooner or later,” she continued, ignoring his attempt to speak. “If you’re determined not to take a wife, you’re going to have to deal with a lot of fallout, especially if they find out that it's in favor of not only a man, but a servant. I’d suggest not making your intentions known for a while.”

“I’ve already discussed it with Kurt,” Blaine admitted. “We’re keeping things quiet for the time being.”

“You’re doing a shit job,” Santana snapped. “You think people won’t notice eventually? He comes back from your rooms in the middle of the night looking like he’s been through a windstorm, he’s got marks on his neck that aren’t covered up by his clothes, and eventually someone is going to hear you if they come wandering by some evening. And even if you manage to keep it a secret from the workers and the servants, what about when court starts? What if one of the nobles sees Kurt sneaking around and starts asking questions? Or what if one of them takes a liking to him and asks for a private session? Will you be able to hold your tongue while you listen to that? Because you’re damn sure people are going to notice him. And when they notice him, eventually they’ll start noticing other things, too.”

“So, what?” Blaine asked angrily, turning on her furiously. “You want me to end it? You want me to stop seeing Kurt?”

“No,” she replied. “I want you to be careful. And come up with a better system for your little meetings. Either get smart about how often you summon him, or tell your servants the truth and ask for their cooperation.”

Blaine looked at her in surprise.

“You think they’d help?”

“I know they would,” she said confidently. “Blaine, these people didn’t stick around because you’re fun to be around. Most of us stuck around because we’ve known you most of our lives and we couldn’t stand to abandon you when you needed us. I’ll never admit this again, so listen closely—we love you. We want you as our Prince and you have our support no matter what you do. If that means you want to be with the man you love instead of marrying some inbred half-wit noblewoman, then we’ll do everything we can to make it easier for you. And besides, it’s not like we don’t know who’s really responsible for you stepping up anyway, so we’re willing to do an awful lot to make Kurt happy too. You saw how quickly everyone jumped in to start the music room.”

Blaine considered, running through the outcomes in his head.

“I’ll have to talk to Kurt about it,” he said eventually, “and I’ll still have to come up with a way to be more discreet—“

He paused, his eyes glazing and narrowing. He was silent for several moments, and Santana craned her neck to try to catch his eye.

“What is it? You look like you just realized exactly how your cock is going to fit in Kurt’s ass—“

“Is that really necessary?” Blaine snapped, coming out of his brief reverie. “What I do with Kurt is none of your business.”

“Oh, calm down, I’m not serious,” she said dismissively. “Anyway, where did you go?”

“I have an idea,” he replied. “How far along are the royal apartments?”

“Cleaned and repaired, though the furnishings and decorations still need to be replaced.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Blaine said quickly, “just tell me if it’s feasible that someone would move into them.”

“You want to move Kurt into the royal apartments.”

“Technically, yes.”

“You want Kurt to move in here and pretend to live in the royal apartments.”

“Yes.”

“And how is that going to be discreet?”

“I’ll just say he’s working on several projects for me,” Blaine explained, his eyes wide with excitement. “I don’t want him disturbed and I want him to have all the privacy and peace he needs. Bards often go on retreats, don’t they? To make up stories and songs without anyone to hear them and steal them?”

“Yeah, I guess, but it’s a risk, you—“

“It’s less of a risk than Kurt slipping back and forth across the castle. And it’s plausible—I’m sure I can find accounts of minstrels being offered lavish accommodations and being treated extravagantly. It makes sense—no one wants to anger someone who can tell embarrassing stories about you.”

“Generally speaking, idiot, part of that special treatment was in the form of sexual favors.”

“Well, that doesn’t have to be implicit,” Blaine said. “As long as no one catches us doing anything unseemly, they can’t say anything about it. My rooms are completely private, and his will be too. So no one will have any business seeing anything unseemly to begin with.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Make sure the closest room has a bed, so people don’t have an excuse to ask questions. I’ll tell Kurt tonight.”

“You realize you basically just gave me orders to ensure you can get laid, right?”

“It’s more than that, Santana,” Blaine said, sobering. “Is it like that for you and Brittany?”

Santana glared at him.

“What I do with Brittany is none of your—“

“—business, yes,” Blaine finished. “Just like with me and Kurt. I just want to be close to him in any way I can. If that means I have to do something unorthodox, so be it. If that means I have to ask for your help, so be it. If it means that I have to reveal myself to the entire kingdom, so damn well be it, and the same if I have to give the kingdom up.”

Santana looked at him for a long moment, longer than Blaine was strictly comfortable with, her face very blank. Finally, she nodded once, sharply.

“Fine.”

 Blaine smiled at her and turns back to the paperwork.

“So what else have we got?”

That night, Blaine finished his dinner quickly, completely unable to hold back any longer. He waved away Wes, who had taken up the duties of steward with Mike absent and turned to Kurt, flicking back his hood.

“Are you at least going to show yourself to the servants soon?” Kurt asked casually. There was no pushing in the question—just curiosity. Blaine smiled at him adoringly. “I know you can’t walk around hoodless all the time, what with all these outside workers coming in every day, but can you at least show the ones who stayed with you?”

“Probably,” Blaine replied easily. “I don’t think I should make a big deal of it if I do, though. What do you think would happen if I just started walking around without my hood?”

“I think you’d cause an uproar,” Kurt shot back. “Quietly, though. I’m sure most would just gasp and run away to tell everyone else that they saw the Prince.”

“You don’t think they’ll be afraid of me?”

Kurt laid down his lute and approached the table, leaning down to cup Blaine’s cheek and lay a kiss on his forehead.

“No,” he answered definitely. “They won’t be scared of how you look. They might be afraid you’re going to yell at them, though.”

Blaine hung his head and laughed self-deprecatingly.

“I have a reputation I’ll need to work off.”

“Well, if you act like you, instead of the Beast Prince you decided to portray for seven years, they’ll love you. I would know.”

Blaine looked up at him with shining eyes, a trembling smile meeting the sweet one on Kurt’s face.

“I love you.”

“Mmm. And I you.”

Kurt leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Blaine’s mouth. Blaine grinned. It was time.

“I’d like you to come with me.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow, a saucy smirk crossing his face.

“Oh? Impatient, are we?”

Blaine winked up at him.

“Always. But I have something I really do have something I need to show you.”

Blaine rose and guided Kurt from the dining hall, but when they reached the court, he stopped Kurt and looked around carefully. No one was around.

“I want you to close your eyes,” Blaine ordered. Kurt looked at him incredulously.

“I’m serious,” Blaine insisted, and Kurt sighed as though put-upon and closed his eyes with a smile.

Blaine immediately slipped an arm around Kurt’s shoulders and helped guide him ahead. He didn’t bother taking Kurt out of his way—he was too eager to get to the point. So when they reached the door to the court apartment, Blaine immediately paused Kurt and reached forward to swing in the door.

“Here we are,” he said, pushing Kurt through gently. “Open your eyes.”

Blaine resisted the urge to look around the room with Kurt and instead kept his eyes on his lover, taking in the way his eyes widened and his mouth fell open into smile. Kurt looked absolutely stunning—Blaine wanted to remember every moment of it.

You can always see it again, he thought suddenly.

He could. There were many ways to put that look back on his face—that wonder, that excitement, that happy surprise. There were a hundred things about the castle Kurt would love to see restored, and then endless gifts Blaine could bestow upon him. There would be no end to the things he could do for Kurt now—he’d never have to go another day without it again, if he chose. He could give Kurt the world, because Kurt was his world. He didn’t need the other one.

In time, he decided. There’s no rush. Not with our lives ahead of us.

That thought put a warm smile on Blaine’s face, and he watched Kurt wandering about the room, running his hands over the simple wooden bedframe and scuffing his boots along the clean, gleaming floor.

“It’s wonderful,” Kurt said. “I mean…it needs to be decorated, and furnished a little better, but it’s amazing, Blaine. Did Brittany and Mercedes and Tina do all this?”

“Well, not the hard repairs,” Blaine responded. “But yes, they cleaned it up. Do you like it?”

“Of course I do, Blaine,” Kurt said. “It’s—it’s—“

“It’s yours.”

Blaine could have convinced himself he would never stop smiling in the moment that Kurt processed what he said. The sweet look of pleased shock flitted over his features again.

“Mine?” he asked, and then his face fell. “But…but what will the others say? I mean…I’m still a servant, and they don’t know—“

“They will soon,” Blaine said. “It won’t be made public knowledge—and as much as I hate that I have to hide our love for even a second, this will have to last a while. But the servants, the ones who never left here…they’ll be told, eventually. The rest will be told that the official statement is that you are busy working on my orders and require privacy, with the gossip noting that I’m only doing it to keep you on my good side for when you start telling tales of me at court.”

Kurt’s eyes brimmed with tears that didn’t fall, and his lip quivered just a bit.

“You want to tell them about me?”

Blaine sighed and shook his head fondly.

“Of course I do,” he insisted, pulling Kurt into his arms and kissing his forehead lightly. “I want everyone to know why I’m so happy. And having the one who makes me happy in the next room will be a bonus—their cooperation in explaining everything to the workers will be invaluable. I just have to find the right time.”

He took a fortifying breath for the next thing he wanted to say—he hoped Kurt wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Of course…it could only be your room in name, and in function for holding your things,” Blaine said, careful to sound like the suggestion was casual. “I would be—the most happy, if I could offer you an alternative place to sleep at night.”

Kurt looked up at Blaine hopefully, and Blaine fought back a grin.

“You mean—“

“—I want you to stay with me,” he clarified. “I don’t want you running off to sleep somewhere else. I want you to stay with me so that when I wake it will be you I wake to and not a cold and empty pillow.”

Kurt kissed him, holding him close.

“Of course I will,” he said, his voice a little choked. “Blaine, that you went to all this trouble just so we could stay together—“

“Of course I did. I would do anything if it meant never having to let you go.”

“…Anything?”

Blaine looked right at Kurt with what he hoped was stern inquisition, but he was sure he still just looked besotted.

“What is it?”

“Well,” Kurt said, looking off to the side and tilting his head, as though to give Blaine his most appealing angle and distract him from what was sure to be something Blaine didn’t necessarily like, “if people are going to believe I live in here, it can’t look like a cell.”

Blaine burst out laughing, realizing what Kurt was angling for.

“The room will be furnished to your every desire, my love,” he chuckled. “In fact, if there is anything you want or need, make a list and I will make sure you receive everything you ask for.”

“Everything I ask for could get expensive, Blaine,” Kurt warned. Blaine shrugged.

“Buying you things you need or enjoy is hardly a trial for me,” he said simply. “I will have plenty of money soon enough.”

Kurt bit his lip and Blaine could sense his excitement in the way he raised his shoulders and grinned, seemingly inches away from losing restraint and skipping away. Blaine prevented this possibility by leaning down and slotting their lips together, tilting his head and welcoming Kurt’s breath and passion.

Kurt pulled away after a moment, biting his lip before looking into Blaine’s eyes and saying simply, “I need to test my new bed.”

Blaine failed to hold back a groan as he lifted Kurt clear off his feet and carried him across the room to do exactly that.