The first crack of the whip was deafening. Silence had fallen over everyone in the room as they witnessed the event taking place at the head of the stairs. It was official, history had been made. A prince had been struck for the first time in god knew how many years. Everyone watched silently, trying to hold themselves together, saddened by the fact that there was nothing they could do. No one had it worse than Kurt, however. They didn't have to feel the clench of Blaine's fingers around Kurt's as the pain from the whip descended upon his back. They didn't have to see him flinch in pain as it began to settle in. They didn't have to see Blaine struggle to take a deep breath to calm himself down. They saw the damage on his back, yes, but Kurt had to see the emotion in his eyes. It was far worse. Even in pain, Blaine still managed to be beautiful. Even after the first strike, he still looked determined as ever to remain strong.

Another strike came without warning, louder than the last. Blaine still hadn't made a sound Kurt was astonished to notice. It was evident that Blaine was trying not to give the King the satisfaction. He was clenching his jaw so hard that it looked like it was almost causing him additional pain. He had looked away from Kurt as soon as the first blow came. Now he was staring forward at nothing. He took a few short breaths before the third lash came.

Kurt held onto Blaine's hands tightly, rubbing his thumbs over the top of his palms in an effort to comfort him. He didn't pull away or look up and glare at him for it, so he hoped that Blaine was at least semi-comforted by it. Kurt felt so helpless, he wished more than anything that he could stop it or take this pain away, but what could he do?

By the time they got to lash number 6, Kurt's hands were starting to feel numb from Blaine's death grip on them. He could hear the sound of every servant sobbing from below, they all knew this was every definition of wrong there was. Blaine's back must not be looking good right now by the way they were holding on to each other from below. In a way he was glad that he wasn't seeing that damage as it came, but at the same time, he still had to witness the worst in his opinion.

By the tenth lash, it was obvious that Will was starting to pick up the force and speed. Kurt risked a glance over to his father who couldn't look more pleased at the events unfolding. Was his father really this deranged? He could look on as a child was being whipped bloody with nothing but the most immense satisfaction? The answer was yes, his father really had become this deranged lunatic standing before him. The thought that sickened him the most was that his father remembered Blaine from when he and Kurt were kids. He remembered the young prince when Kurt couldn't. He had seen the love King Anderson had for this child. How could he do this and not feel even the slightest bit of remorse for it?

By the time the 15th lash came, he was nauseated to see a drop of red splash down to the floor. Will had whipped so hard that he had broken the skin. Kurt felt his stomach churn as his cheeks began to burn with rage. Just how hard did Will think he had to hit Blaine? Well, dumb question, he shouldn't be hitting him at all, but even in this circumstance it probably wouldn't take much to have the beating take effect.

Another loud crack, then something wet fell onto his arm. Confused, he looked at the mysterious liquid on his arm when another drop joined it. He glanced up to see if what he suspected was true. Kurt's heart broke even more if it were possible as he found out it was true. Blaine was breathing heavier from the pain and tears were beginning to fall steadily from his beautiful hazel eyes. They were shimmering with a bunch of un-shed tears, but he was losing the battle of holding them back. Kurt kept holding on as he felt tears of his own begin to form.

Another swish and every spectator in the palace felt their heart stop as a scream had finally erupted from the prince. It was the most heart wrenching sound anyone had ever heard. Not only was it a scream of immense pain, but one of true sadness. It was official, with each strike of the whip, Blaine was regressing more and more into submission and his confidence and determination was withering.

He could feel his heart racing as he realized that Blaine was having trouble catching his breath. He didn't want him to hyperventilate, so he did the only thing he could think to do, he started humming softly trying to help Blaine catch his breath. When Kurt was younger, his mother, the Queen used to hum or sing this lullaby to him to help him stop crying. It was so miniscule that he almost missed it, but he saw Blaine glance up quickly with his tear filled eyes as if he recognized the tune. It would have been odd for him to since as far as Kurt knew, it was a lullaby from the McKinley Royal Family. Whether he recognized it or not was not the real concern; he did notice that Blaine had begun to relax ever so slightly; however, it took only one more swish and crack to undo that small semblance of progress.

When another lash came down and another scream came from the prince, Burt finally spoke.

"Does this hurt, servants? Feast your eyes on what has become of your prince! Not much of a prince anymore is he? If he was a prince, would I be able to do this?" Burt waited as another lash hit Blaine's back as he screamed again. "This little boy crying over a little whipping was supposed to lead your land? My servants, is this the kind of leader you would have wanted? Let this be a lesson to you all. I will have no more of this prince business, unless it's regarding my son."

With that, the whip came down once more for lash 20, not gaining a scream from Blaine, but a weak whimper, which to Kurt almost sounded worse. He looked so tired and sufficiently beaten that he was lacking the strength to even scream. Tears had made streaks down his face and his eyes were beginning to become puffy. As soon as it was clear that the whipping had stopped, Blaine had begun to sway and all but collapsed into Kurt's arms. Kurt luckily was paying attention and was able to support the extra weight and hold him up.

"I hope we've all learned a lesson," The King announced coldly. He took a look over at the boy practically passed out in his son's arms with a disinterested expression. "Take that boy out of my sight."

Two guards descended upon Blaine and had to practically pry him off Kurt. He could hear an intake of breath from Blaine as one of the sleeves from one of the guards brushed against his back. Kurt slowly slid to the ground as he tried to calm himself down. This was by far the worst thing he ever had to witness. He almost threw up at the sight of the puddle of blood on the floor that belonged to Blaine.

"Someone clean that up," Burt ordered as he too noticed the pool of red clashing against the marble tile.

Kurt remained on the floor even when his father had left for his study. The servants closest to Kurt slowly made their way up the staircase to the prince. Mercedes and Rachel being the first. Quinn was in the process of scrubbing the blood from the tile. The tears sliding down her face and the blood from the floor were beginning to mix together.

"Kurt?" Mercedes asked softly as she knelt down in front of him at eye level.

Kurt glanced up at her and without a second's hesitation, he flung himself into her arms and sobbed. He cried more than then he thought he had ever done before. The emotions from what just happened were beginning to unleash on him in a frenzy. Mercedes was doing her best to calm him down by rubbing his back in soothing circles whilst trying to claim a grip on her own tears.

"I've never seen Blaine like that."

Kurt and Mercedes were startled when Rachel had finally broken the silence.

"Well of course you haven't!" Mercedes snapped. "He's never been whipped like that before!"

Kurt was sure Mercedes didn't mean to sound so harsh, but she was in fact telling the truth, which made all of this harder to come to terms with.

"I-I mean, I k-know, I was just saying...it was before. B-before the whipping I mean," Rachel clarified nervously. "I've never seen him so...sad. Before they w-whipped him. When he saw us...he just didn't look like himself."

Mercedes took Rachel's reiteration into account and began to nod. "I know what you mean, Rachel. It was rare to see Blaine without a smile...seeing him like this was more eerie than I care to let on. Blaine doesn't ever look that way. It was definitely hard to take. I think there's more to his capture than we know."

It had been a few hours since the whipping and Kurt couldn't take his mind off of it. Every time he closed his eyes he heard the swish of the whip and the crack against skin. He shuddered as he hugged his knees to his chest. It was getting late, but Kurt couldn't bring himself to sleep. He was positive that Will and his father were well on their way to bed by now, comforted by a good day's work.

Kurt just couldn't stop the guilt pounding in his chest. The punishment definitely had its effect on Kurt. If his father wanted him to learn a lesson, well, mission accomplished. Kurt couldn't bear to see that happen again, once was already more than enough. Just the sound of it haunted him. The look in Blaine's eyes, the feel of Blaine's fingers clenched around his like a lifeline. It was the sound...the feel...everything.

Kurt knew he couldn't get any semblance of rest until he saw Blaine again. What did they do with him after the beating? He imagined that his father had ordered the staff not to tend to his wounds in order to drive the lesson home...but Kurt wouldn't have it. If he knew his father like he thought he did, he was certain those wounds were left untreated.

He made his mind up and let his feet guide him straight to his bathroom to fetch a satchel of his medical supplies that he kept hidden under his sink and made his way to his bedroom door. He wasn't surprised that there was no one roaming the hallway. It was after hours and the guards were all assembled at their posts, surely. Kurt managed to make his way down to the servant's quarters without being questioned, but right outside of the room where Blaine was being kept, two guards were stationed outside of it.

"Your majesty, what brings you down here?" One of them questioned, shocked that Kurt would even consider coming down here; especially at midnight. This guy must be new. Kurt was down here all the time visiting with the other servants. They never went to bed at a normal time, this was the only time that they could get together and converse without being scolded about neglecting their work. It was the only time they could actually enjoy themselves.

"I come down here quite often, it's no secret, but I wish to see The Prince," Kurt responded impatiently.

"But sir, you're the only prince here..." The guard replied, confused.

"I'm talking about the Prince you have locked in that room, which everyone should know is a felony. Now please step aside," Kurt ordered.

The guards reluctantly moved aside and allowed Kurt to enter. He was nervous and had no idea what he was going to say, but he knew he had to. The wounds weren't going to tend to themselves, so he made his way in and shut the door behind him quietly. The room was small...much smaller than any of the others in the servants quarters. His father really was trying to make Blaine the lowest of the low. The room had only a small window that like the rest of them had been barred. A prison cell, that's what this looked like to Kurt. At least in the other rooms, the other servants had been able to make theirs a little more like home. In the corner of the room was a table and chair and a rather uncomfortable looking bed.

On the bed was a figure. No one had left a light on in here, if the moon hadn't been particularly bright, the room would have been pitch black. The moon provided enough light for Kurt to see that the figure was in fact, Blaine. He had been left on his stomach, still shirtless and as Kurt could see he was correct. The wounds had been left to teach a lesson. Blaine had his arms hidden underneath a pillow that he was resting his head on, and for all Kurt knew, he was asleep. But if this had just happened to Kurt he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep after such an ordeal.

Kurt opened his mouth nervously to speak, but couldn't find any words, plus he didn't want to startle Blaine. He had been quiet when he came in, so if Blaine was in fact awake, he probably assumed that the door had opened for someone to perform a routine check. So instead of speaking, he cleared his throat lightly.

His plan failed as Blaine's head popped up in surprise. His demeanor relaxed slightly when he realized it was Kurt and not one of the guards, but be still looked extremely on edge. His eyes were wide and unyielding as he stared at Kurt as if waiting for him to say something.

"I uh-" Kurt began, sounding like an idiot. He really hadn't thought this through. What exactly was he supposed to say here?

"What can I help you with, your majesty?" Blaine asked calmly but very quietly.

He could tell that the words "your majesty" sounded foreign coming from Blaine's lips, he had never addressed anyone as such before. It was very different hearing Blaine speak. Lord, even his voice sounded gorgeous, even as weak and soft as it was at the moment. He couldn't understand how beautiful it sounded from Blaine's screams of agony, but hearing it now was like the sweetest melody. He couldn't help but be enamored by it.

He began gnawing at his lip nervously. It was an awful habit he had, which he needed to stop, it was always a one way ticket to very chapped lips. He took a step closer to Blaine which as he guessed would incite an unnerving reaction

"I-I'm not here to hurt you," Kurt explained as he brandished his satchel. "I came to help with those."

Blaine eyed him for a moment, but didn't object. Ge took it as a go ahead to approach. As he got closer he softly gasped at the wounds. The welts were a dark pink, zig-zagging all across his back, the skin around them was read and inflamed. There was still dried blood all over from the open wounds which thankfully weren't deep enough to cause him to bleed out.

"Would you mind if I turned the light on so I can see what I'm doing better?" Kurt asked, carefully.

Blaine didn't respond, so Kurt took it as an OK. If this wasn't the most awkward of situations, he didn't know what was. He turned the light on, which wasn't too bright, but blanketed the room in a dimmer golden patch of light. It was a lot easier assess the damage now and it looked a lot worse than before.

He gently sat down on the bed beside Blaine, which caused the Dalton Heir to tense up at the close proximity between them.

"You can relax. Like I said, I won't hurt you," Kurt explained as he first went into his satchel to retrieve his bottle of water and some cloths to clean the blood off. The act itself proved to be no easy task. Every time the cloth came into contact with one of the wounds, Blaine would hiss in pain, causing Kurt to remember the whipping again. He pushed through the memories and kept his thoughts on the task at hand.

After a few moments of silence, he had managed to clean off all the blood and was now rummaging through his bag to get antibacterial ointment and bandages.

"There's nothing worse, you know."

Kurt looked up from the bag, confused. "What?"

"Being whipped and the shame that comes with it. Being beaten in front of people that you know and love. There's nothing worse."

He felt that guilt crawling inside of him more ferocious than before. He couldn't even imagine what it felt like to be Blaine right now. Cleaning blood off of him that was meant to be inside of him, rather than spilled all over his back and the bedding. The carelessness the palace had taken with him was enough to make Kurt ill.

"I wish you never had to endure it. I'd like to tell you how awful it was for me, but that would seem incredibly selfish and wouldn't even hold up in comparison," Kurt admitted, sadly. "I don't know how to ever begin apologizing for it."

"Why are you helping me?"

The question caught Kurt so off-guard that he almost dropped the ointment in surprise. He took a moment to register the question before he answered simply.

"Why wouldn't I?"

He went to unscrew the cap when the next response came.

"Because your father is the king."

"Just because my father is the king doesn't mean that I'm anything like him."

After that, Blaine didn't say anything so Kurt began to apply the ointment only getting a few sounds of discomfort from Blaine. One of the wounds began to lightly bleed, so Kurt applied a cloth to it and added some pressure to stem the blood flow.

"I know that you're not like him."

He didn't glance away from the cloth, but he smiled, slightly.

"That's probably the nicest thing you could ever say to me."

"It's a sad thing when you don't want to be anything like your father."

"Do you miss him? Your father?"

Blaine grew quieter than before. "Every moment. But he's safe, that's all that matters now."

"Now?"

"Nothing," Blaine replied shortly.

There was definitely more to that than Blaine was letting on. The reason he looked so sad like Mercedes had said...it had something to do with his father and his capture. There was more to it than they all knew. Kurt also felt saddened by the fact that he wasn't talking to the real Blaine, this Blaine had a strong sense of melancholy and sadness about him, not the playful, smiling, happy-go-lucky Blaine that Mercedes remembered.

Once the bleeding ceased, he began to apply the bandages around Blaine's torso so they would remain secure to his back. He eyed his completed work in satisfaction and began to put his supplies away. At least now they hopefully wouldn't get infected. He couldn't handle Blaine getting sick on top of what had already occurred.

"I-I just can't tell you how sorry I am," Kurt admitted with a sigh. "You never should have had to go through that."

"It was...well, bad enough having to take that. I've never felt a worse kind of pain in my life...and it simply terrifies me...but to have to take it in front of everyone? I'm just really disappointed that I showed my fear and weakness-"

"Disappointed? Blaine, had I been you, I wouldn't have made it past the first lash!" Kurt cut him off in shock. "You are leagues ahead of where any other royal would hope to be! You never should have had to experience that in your life, ever. What they did is against the law! Even if you don't agree, I am amazed and hold the deepest admiration for your bravery."

He glanced over, startled to find that Blaine had turned to his side so that he could see Kurt face-to-face.

"It was-well, my worst fear. I'd seen people whipped before...slaves in the streets. Just the sound." Blaine shuddered, clearly remembering it from hours ago. "I was thankful that I would never have to experience it but now that I have...I really don't know what's worse, the excruciating pain or the shame in being beaten. I really don't know which is the worst thing. I just feel like I let myself and the land I once stood for down. I showed my fear, and I'm absolutely terrified for it to happen again," He finished sadly.

Kurt couldn't help it, he felt his eyes begin to tear up at Blaine's admission.

"Hey, hey," Blaine pleaded softly. "Don't cry, please? I'll be fine, really. I mean, not 100%, but thanks to you, I at least don't have to worry about infection."

"It was nothing," Kurt admitted, still feeling the guilt coursing through him. Blaine was trying to comfort him. How selfish was he being really? Blaine was telling him how terrified he was to be beaten again and all Kurt could think about was himself.

"It means more to me than nothing," Blaine replied softly. "I knew that you didn't become like him, you never were."

Kurt ignored the last part as he was confused by what it meant. "It's still not enough to ease my conscience, though."

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows in bemusement. "You weren't the one holding the whip."

Kurt sighed, holding his head in his hands. "It's so wrong that they did this to you...and I did nothing to stop it. You should be back in Dalton, not here. It's so wrong that they want to hurt you like this! Treat you like some kind of slave when you aren't! The hardest part is that I don't know how to stop them! I might as well have been holding the whip."

He felt the small touch of a hand against his leg, causing him to look up.

"But you weren't. You were on the other side, comforting me."

"Holding you in place," Kurt muttered bitterly.

"No. I could tell you were trying to comfort me. I doubt someone who was humming to me was just trying to hold me in place."

Kurt looked at Blaine fully, he could see the seriousness in his eyes, yet the expression on his face didn't match. The slight smile on his face seemed completely out of place from what his eyes were saying. It was as if he had to grow up too fast in a matter of days.

"Yeah, it was a lullaby that my mother used to sing to me when I was upset," Kurt explained.

"Yeah, I remember."

He was confused for a moment, but then he recalled what his father had said before.

"Because we knew each other before right? When we were younger?"

Blaine nodded slowly.

"I-I'm sad to say that I really don't remember all that well, I mean, details are fuzzy. I'd like to think that my hatred for my father has clouded my memories of the earlier times. Back when he wasn't the monster that he is now. It's easier to hate him when you don't remember."

Blaine sat up some more so he was closer to the same eye level as Kurt. Kurt still felt his heart flutter looking into those eyes. There was such a familiarity in them that Kurt just couldn't place. If their childhood together was as fond as they say, why couldn't he remember?

"I'm sorry you have to block them out. It can't be easy. I just have a very sharp memory. My father always praised me for it. I remember things more clearly than I should be able to."

I remember when your mother used to sing that lullaby to you. I remember when you broke one of her tea-cups and started crying," Blaine stated with a fond smile, clearly recalling the events as if it were yesterday. "Your mother came in and sung you that lullaby and you were out like a light."

Kurt rubbed at his temples, severely disappointed that he couldn't remember this himself. He remembered the tea cups in that drawing room held some semblance of meaning to him, he just couldn't remember why. They belonged to his mother and he and Kurt used to play together and have tea parties with them. That's when another horrifying thought struck Kurt.

"When we went into that drawing room...you know...with all the uh...implements they want to use on you," Kurt flinched at the very thought of them but continued. "You looked around that room as if you were familiar with it," Kurt began nervously.

"Yeah, I do recognize that room," Blaine responded, sadly.

"Why is that?"

"Because it was the room that you and I used to play together in."