Days continued to pass at the castle in a flurry of activity. Every day Blaine was receiving letters, not only from the Lords who were contacted by Mike, but from lesser nobles across the land who were inquiring about court and the possibility of attending. Blaine had to accept the real possibility that the court apartments—which were intended for the Lords when they visited but were used by others as the occasion called for it—were not going to be enough when court first opened. Too many people of import were interested in attending, and there simply wasn’t room for all of the ones who insisted they deserved a place in the castle, leading Blaine to send a letter to Lord Nicholas essentially begging for his hospitality in Westerville for the remainder. This was not to mention the many who did not have the position to demand lodgings and would stay in Westerville, usually renting houses or encroaching on the hospitality of local families of the peerage. Even Lima might be used for accommodations, and Blaine wondered how Sebastian would take that.

He was also receiving a lot of paperwork regarding the work on the castle. He’d given most of the responsibility of overseeing the work to Santana, whose duty it was as Chamberlain to run the castle and its workers, but she’d apparently seen fit to give one of the workers the job of Foreman, and he’d been doing a good job of submitting plenty of requests for materials and men and funds when he wasn’t trying to woo Emma, who was quite flustered by the whole ordeal and apparently the center of gossip for the castle at the moment.

The castle was starting to take form. There were a lot of men who would stay—workers tending the fields, gardeners, guards and the like—but there were many who would not, and they were massing about the castle building and repairing. Soon enough, everything would be done, and fine craftsmen would be brought in to repair artwork and replace it as necessary, paint things and decorate them and bring the castle back to its former glory.

It was all costing a fortune, but Mike—and the Lords—had come through.

It was the day after Mike returned from his trip. When he’d arrived the night before, Blaine had sent him straight to Tina, and told him to report the next evening—he’d come straight from Westerville, and needed the rest. But he’d stopped and at least given Blaine a long and enthusiastic letter from Lord Nicholas, who had promised every bit of support he could muster for Blaine, whether it be lodgings for nobles or support at court or funds for the castle.

He had also saved every last bit of money he hadn’t needed to send since he’d become Lord five years prior, and he sent that, the current year’s, and the two years his father before him hadn’t sent as well.

Eight years’ tithes. It was a fortune. It was everything Blaine needed to pay the workers and craftsmen and provide for the castle without having to trade away what they made themselves. The road ahead became much clearer with just that one letter.

It wasn’t the only news Mike had brought, but Blaine had waited till Mike had rested to hear it. After supper, and after he asked Kurt to give him half an hour before he came to bed, he summoned Mike into his rooms and sat by the fire, his manservant standing before him. Mike cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot. Blaine looked up at him, noticing the bags under his eyes and the slope of his shoulders.

“Sit down, Mike, for gods’ sake,” Blaine ordered, and Mike sank gratefully into the other chair, basking in the warmth of the evening fire. “You deserve some time off for all that you’ve done, but I’m afraid there’s much to be done, and for that I am sorry.”

“It’s nothing, Blaine,” Mike said, and Blaine was grateful that he wasn’t trying to be overly formal now. Not after everything Mike had done for him. “You know that I believe wholeheartedly in everything you’re doing, and I’d make any sacrifice to see it happen.”

“Well, I won’t require too much of you,” Blaine replied, “but you and Santana are in charge. She’ll take care of most of it—but I’ll need you to keep ordering my personal affairs, helping out what I need to do. I’ll keep it to a minimum, I promise, and after everything is done I’ll make sure you get some time to take Tina away for a while. Maybe to see your parents?”

“We’ll see,” Mike shrugged. “If so, it won’t be for a while—like you said, there’s a lot to do. And I think it’s about time we got started. I’ll be better after I sleep tonight, but this can’t wait anymore.”

“Very well. What is it?”

Mike sighed deeply and looked over at Blaine frankly.

“You read over my reports from the Lords?”

“I did,” Blaine said. “I also received a few personal letters that didn’t come through you—namely, Lords Rumba and Ryan, and the Lady Harmony. But I’ve read over Nick’s letter, and I browsed Lord James’s letter. How did he seem?”

“Jesse?” Mike clarified, and at Blaine’s nod, said, “He’s the same as he’s always been. He kept it well hidden, but I’m fairly certain he’s relieved you’re taking over. He and Lord Smythe have been at odds for a long time, and I think he was worried Sebastian would want to give him a hard time if he stepped up.”

“And he sent this years’ payment, am I correct?”

“Yes,” Mike corroborated, “and he said he’d be willing to discuss things more in person when he attends court. He intends to be there immediately upon its restoration.”

“Good,” Blaine said. “He’s influential—I could use his support. We’ll work with him. You read over the other letters and spoke to Santana about the other Lords, right?”

“I did,” Mike agreed. “And I have to say, Blaine, I’m really impressed with how you handled Lord Ryan. That was…very diplomatic of you.”

“What, pitting him against Lord Rumba?”

“Well, yes, that. But I meant how you went about it. It was…adroitly handled. I’m sure it will be a most successful maneuver.”

“Yes, it seems I have a knack for politics.”

“I’m not surprised,” Mike said, shrugging. “You were always good with people, Blaine. You’re good at pleasing them, but you know how to get what you want, too. That’s something Cooper didn’t have—he didn’t know how to keep people happy when they didn’t agree. He was too…headstrong. Selfish. You’re far better suited to the intricacies of court that lie outside being gracious and charming. Though you accomplish those things as well.”

Blaine smiled over at Mike, a little sadly. “You think so?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, Blaine,” Mike said, and they shared a quick smile before they both gathered themselves again, returning to servant and master rather than two friends.

“I have some urgent news, though, Blaine, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about tonight,” Mike said. “It’s…it’s very important that you take it seriously and plan accordingly.”

“What is it?” Blaine pressed, a cold feeling sinking in his chest.

“It’s Sebastian,” Mike said. “I…I heard some rumors. And they came from Lord Nicholas himself. His servant, Thad, was in town and spoke with Sebastian’s first lieutenant. Plied him with a few drinks as well, from what I understand. And the lieutenant—I believe his name is Flint—was quite adamant that Sebastian would be taking the throne no matter what. Even after all you’ve done to show you mean to take back the throne.”

“You trust Thad?”

“I do,” Mike said, nodding. “He’s a stoic sort—not the type to tell tales. And the first lieutenant would know.”

Blaine nodded, absorbing the information.

“What sort of force does Sebastian have?”

“The Lima regiment is the second-largest in the kingdom when at full-force. About a thousand men. I believe Sebastian has called up all his regulars, around five-hundred men, and has so far been pulling as many able-bodied irregulars as he can from the farms and dock villages.”

“So he’ll have between five hundred and a thousand men,” Blaine murmured, “and he’ll have slowed commerce and food production for his province to do so. Needlessly—how many men can we get for the defense?”

“Lord Nicholas mentioned his regiment in the letter—seven hundred active men, and a total of fifteen hundred if all irregulars report. It would halt almost all trade in the kingdom if he did it—Westerville is our main hub. But I’m sure Lord James could help as well, he’s nearby. Maybe three hundred from him.”

“I could also ask Lady Harmony. She’s got plenty of regulars and is eager for my favor.”

“I heard,” Mike said wryly. “But it seems we can outnumber Sebastian on good notice. All word is that he plans to attack on your birthday.”

“Send requests to have as many men as possible ready to march if needed,” Blaine ordered. “The Lords will protect their own hides at least—they’ll all be here for my birthday. And we have enough guards now. Make sure the practice grounds are ready for whoever wants to use them, and let everyone know it will be beneficial to their own well-being if they can at least wield a knife or a sword, should the need arise.”

“Beiste will be pleased.”

“She’ll be even more pleased when she hears that I’ll be coming to train with her personally starting tomorrow. And…and I should bring Kurt as well. Sebastian won’t be likely to treat him kindly, and above all else, I want to keep him safe.”

“You…you know what occurred between him and Sebastian, don’t you?”

Blaine looked over and nodded. “And you?”

Mike nodded also. “Burt was trading wares in Westerville when I was there. He…filled me in, to an extent, in between giving me messages to take to Kurt. Sebastian has been inquiring about him—Burt’s told his soldiers that Kurt’s lain up in bed, ill, but Sebastian won’t buy it much longer. He’s already questioning things—the lieutenant was asking questions about Kurt. I’m not sure how he’ll react—from what Burt told me he was quite insistent that Kurt...enter his household. And if Sebastian finds out he’s here, he might…he might take offense to that.”

“Yes, he’s always been that way,” Blaine said. “Never wanted to share his toys. Things like that. Do you think he’d take it out on Kurt’s family?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“Send Puck with four other guards to keep an eye on them.” Blaine rose and headed to his desk, pulling out a sheet of parchment and grabbing his quill, immediately scribbling across the paper as he spoke. “I trust Puck to act as he sees fit in keeping them safe. Gods know what Kurt would do if his family were in danger.”

“I’ll send him out tomorrow morning,” Mike said. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” Blaine said, drawing out the word as he finished writing and signed the paper with a flourish. He blew on the ink to dry it and laid it out. “I need you to have this sent to Lord Nicholas—and be discreet. He’ll have plenty of messages sent to him soon enough, with the requests for troops and the other letters I need sent to him. Hide this among them, and make sure it’s read by no one but him. Send someone you trust with it.”

Mike pulled it toward him and glanced over it. His eyes widened.

“Do you think it will come to that?”

“I can’t be too careful,” Blaine said, shaking his head. “I can’t…I can’t let anything happen—"

There was a light knock on his door, and Mike nodded.

“I understand,” he said. “I’ll make sure everything gets done, Blaine.”

He went to the door to open it, but Blaine stalled him.

“Before you go,” he said, his voice low and quick as he glanced nervously at the door, “I need you to gather the servants—only the ones that have stayed with me all this time. Have them meet with me in the court tomorrow morning. I wish to speak with them.”

Mike nodded, smiling, before pulling open the door. Kurt was standing behind it, and his eyes immediately flicked to Blaine the moment they were in view of each other. He smiled shyly before turning to Mike, but his eyes kept flickering back over as he greeted his friend and slipped into the room.

“Come here,” Blaine said as the door shut, Mike heading out to fulfill his duties and get some rest. “I missed you.”

“You don’t have to miss me anymore,” Kurt grinned, a sweet lilt of delighted laughter in his voice that drew out a wide smile on Blaine’s own face. “I live right next door—didn’t you know?”

“No you don’t,” Blaine whispered, nestling into Kurt’s waiting arms, and a warm sensation spread through him as he realized how familiar the embrace was, how much it felt like home. “You’re staying right here.”

Kurt hummed like he always did when he was happy and kissed Blaine eagerly, gently guiding him back toward the bed.

 “Whatever your majesty commands.”

The next morning, Kurt drifted awake slowly, emerging from a long, restful sleep. He slowly became aware of his surroundings—the soft bed beneath his chest, the warm coverings around his waist, the scent of Blaine in the pillow he buried his face in, and the warm, wet sensation of Blaine’s lips across his shoulders. He turned his head to the side, hugging the pillow to his cheek and tensing as he stretched, raising his shoulders up for a long moment before relaxing completely, moaning as Blaine’s strong hands worked over his back, rubbing his sleep-warm skin before following the trail with his mouth. Kurt made to turn over, but Blaine held him down and hushed him.

“Let me take care of you this morning,” Blaine whispered, and Kurt felt him shuffle closer along Kurt’s side, and his hardness brushed against Kurt’s hip. Kurt grinned and wriggled his hips, pressing his own morning erection down into the bed with a satisfied sigh. He melted down drowsily, his silence an allowance for Blaine to continue as he was. 

Soon enough, everything above the covers was peppered with kisses, from his arms and shoulders to the dip of his waist, and Blaine drew the back of one hand down Kurt’s spine, causing him to arch with the tingling sensation that followed it. And the sparks of electricity only grew as the blanket covering him was slowly drawn down, inch by inch exposing his lower back until it slipped over the swell of his bottom, the naked skin shivering with a layer of goosebumps in the morning chill, the fine hairs there lifting as though straining toward Blaine, aching for sensation. Blaine leaned down and spread his warm hands over the tight skin, breathing hot as he nosed down the smooth dips and curves, brushing them with lips and tongue.

“Mmmm,” Kurt hummed, burying his face in the pillow and lifting his hips back, silently begging for more.

“I never thought I’d get to have this,” Blaine murmured, sliding lower and lower, drawing the covers over Kurt’s thighs and the back of his knees, exposing him and lavishing him with affection inch by inch. Kurt lifted on his elbows and looked back, sadness filling him.

“Oh, Blaine—“

“Shh.” Blaine soothed Kurt with long strokes of his wide palms from his thighs down to his calves, kissing the ticklish skin behind his knees to make him laugh. “I want you to know that I never dreamed I could have someone—someone who was mine. Even before my scars, I thought I would have to spend my life alone, or with someone who only wanted me for my power. I was always…unwanted. So having someone who wants me—who loves me—“

His voice broke, and Kurt ached to turn around and pull him into his arms, but Blaine held him down, his hands wrapping around Kurt’s hips, his lips landing on the small of Kurt’s back, grazing him as he continued talking, his voice just barely shaking.

“You are every dream I’ve ever had made real, Kurt,” he said. “From the first time I heard your name, I was…mesmerized. And it is my greatest honor and delight to have earned your friendship and your love. And you’ve made me…I feel like the man I should be with you beside me.”

He slid up Kurt’s body and tilted his head sideways, kissing him deeply. Kurt felt completely surrounded, not just by Blaine’s body draped over him, his arms holding him close as he plundered Kurt’s mouth, but by everything he was—his sweetness, his bravery, his gratitude, his wonder, and his love. Kurt wanted so much to tell Blaine that he felt the same way; that he never expected to have someone who would understand him so completely, who would love him and care for him and take pleasure in his company as well as his body.

But Blaine wasn’t done. He pulled away, moving his mouth down Kurt’s neck and shoulders again, a little rougher, a little dirtier, his teeth nipping at the skin and drawing blood to the surface, making Kurt ache and tingle and want.

“One day, soon,” he said, and his voice was lower, coarser, “I hope that you will let us be one. I want to make love to you, Kurt.”

Kurt gasped as Blaine’s hands caressed down, pulling his cheeks just a little apart as Blaine’s mouth slowly traveled down his spine again. He rutted against the bed, sharp spikes of pleasure and anticipation shooting through him. Now? Was Blaine going to…now?

“Not today,” Blaine clarified, kissing lower and lower, his hands spreading him further so he could kiss down. “But for now, I want to worship every—“ kiss “—single—“ kiss “—inchof you.”

The next kiss landed on Kurt’s hole, and he moaned loudly, pushing back toward Blaine’s mouth. Blaine chuckled darkly as Kurt buried his face in the pillow, spreading his legs wantonly as he waited for what would come next.

And then Blaine’s tongue was on him, licking a long line from perineum to sacrum. And again. And again. And every time he passed over the sensitive center, Kurt’s hips bucked uncontrollably, little cries escaping his mouth and muffling into the pillow. He felt like he was ready to tear apart, just waiting for that split second when Blaine gave him what he needed. The rest of the time was a tease, but he couldn’t find the words to beg.

And then his sweet Blaine appeared to take pity on his desperation. His tongue was right where he needed it, flicking and swirling and sucking and probing him, wet and hot and alternating hard and soft and everywhere at once until Kurt was convulsing, completely unable to move away from Blaine’s mouth, but unable to peak from the erratic ministrations. Every time he could have found a rhythm and worked his way to completion, Blaine switched up, and his cock remained untouched beneath him save for where it skimmed the bed. It was frustrating to the last, and Kurt bit down on the pillow to stop from getting too loud, too frantic.

Blaine must have sensed his need, because suddenly his strong hands were flipping Kurt over and Blaine was kneeling next to and above him, kissing his lips and cheeks and eyelids and nose, drowning him in kisses. And then Blaine lifted his hand and stroked Kurt’s lips with a finger, and Kurt immediately sucked it between his lips, laving it with his tongue suggestively. Blaine’s breath stuttered, but he removed it calmly and lowered it, and then the spit-slick finger was circling Kurt’s rim until he was pushing down, desperate for everything he didn’t know he’d wanted. Blaine pushed in gently, and Kurt bore down against the vague sting, an increasing need for something more, somethingdifferent building in him.

“Are you…is it hurting you?” Blaine asked, and his voice was wrecked, tired and lusty all at once.

Kurt shook his head and keened, fucking himself onto Blaine’s finger and chasing the vague sensation that he was on the edge of something wonderful, if only he could get Blaine deep enough.

“Gods, Kurt,” he breathed, and he began sliding the finger in and out until Kurt was completely lost, rocking back and forth and clutching at Blaine’s arm for leverage and guidance.

“I’m—I’m—“

Blaine kissed him hard, pulling his face in and not bothering with anything but moving their lips together as Kurt fell further and further apart. He shifted and then, with the next thrust, Kurt was overwhelmed with bolts of shock running up his spine. He quickly lowered his hand to his cock, struck with an undeniable need to come, and stroked only once before he came so hard it was almost a spray, splattering over his hand and chest and Blaine’s arm.

He realized Blaine’s free hand was no longer cupping his cheek and opened his eyes just in time to catch Blaine finishing himself off with his finger still buried in Kurt; his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hanging open as he threw his head back and bucked up into his fist. He let out a gusty moan, and Kurt thought he had never looked more beautiful.

Kurt sat up and guided Blaine to lie down on the bed when he had finished, his hand falling from his cock onto his thigh, unconsciously caressing the strained muscles there. When he was lain back and relaxed, sated and sweet in the morning light, Kurt leaned over and kissed his face, his lips skimming the scars tenderly.

“You’re going to have to tell me where you learned to do that,” Kurt purred, kissing his mouth once before slipping out of bed and over to the basin of water he kept for washing. He carefully searched his body for come, wiping up all he found, before wringing out the cloth and bringing it to Blaine. He knelt next to Blaine on the bed and cleaned him gingerly.

Blaine’s hands found his body again, petting his hips and thighs and back and stomach—anything he could reach—with a dreamy smile on his face.

“I am remarkably well-informed,” Blaine said, as though imparting an important secret. “Growing up with the likes of Nick was an education. He dallied with an older servant while lodging here at the castle, and he was only too proud to boast of his exploits.”

“I shall thank him when I meet him, and congratulate his husband,” Kurt declared, smirking at Blaine when he laughed.

“I’m sure he’d be delighted, actually.”

They relaxed into each other’s arms, feeling each other drowsily come down to earth. When the sun had crept a little further up the bed through the freshly cleaned windows, slowly warming more and more of their skin, Blaine kissed Kurt’s nose and rolled out of bed.

“There’s somewhere we need to be this morning,” he said, pulling on some fresh clothing. Kurt watched him dress before slipping out of bed himself, walking fully naked and unashamed up to Blaine, who paused in buckling his belt and raked his eyes over Kurt’s approaching form.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Blaine complained, though he didn’t sound the least upset.

Kurt casually cupped Blaine through his breeches and tilted his head wryly, scrunching up his nose in mock deliberation before smirking devilishly. “Not yet, but I can work on it.”

Blaine groaned as Kurt laughed, pulling his hand away and instead lacing their fingers together, bringing them up so he could kiss Kurt’s knuckles.

“Dress. And then head to the court—there’s a meeting. I’ll see you there.”

Kurt watched him walk away, and by the time he realized Blaine hadn’t worn his hood, he was gone. Kurt scrambled into his clothes and ran out the door, heading straight into court.