Kurt was not surprised in the least when a messenger arrived from Dalton’s kingdom with a letter from the newly crowned King Wes.

“He demands the return of all of his late fathers possessions we neglected to send with his majesty’s body.” Burt said, rubbing his temple and looking at the plain envelope the messenger had delivered. Carole ran a soothing hand up his arm and hummed softly, removing the envelope from his hands and placing it back on the table.

“Blaine. He’s demanding we return Blaine.” Kurt said hoarsely, unbelieving. Knowing this had been coming and dealing with the reality of it were two very different things indeed.

“So refuse.” Rachel said curtly from her seat opposite. She was looking a little peaky, beads of sweat visible against her hairline, and Kurt wondered why she was so insistent on keeping up her duties when she was clearly ill. Finn was sitting next to her, apparently half asleep, completely zoned out of the conversation around him.

“Upon the death of his or her owner, a pleasure slave passes into the ownership of the last living person to have used their ‘services’” Rachel recited clearly and Kurt sighed.

“It won’t work.”

“Kurt, everyone knows now and no-one thinks any less of you. There’s really no shame in admitting it.” Carole said sweetly, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

“It’s not that. It’s just- they’d question him and he wouldn’t be able to lie, and I don’t know if, if it counts.” Kurt hated how awkward he sounded, the words getting tangled between his brain and mouth.

“What do you mean, of course it counts, as long as you slept with him-” Rachel started, before he cut her off with a look and tried to explain.

“But I didn’t, not exactly. I mean, I did the first time, but after that, it was more... him, sleeping with me.” He trailed off quietly, cheeks blazing red.

“Well. Okay. That complicates things a bit.” Burt looked distinctly uncomfortable, no doubt doing his best not to imagine his son having sex. For this, Kurt was extremely grateful. He tried not to think too hard about the curious raised eyebrow Carole gave him.

“Anyway, even if it did work, you know as well as I do that I’d have to own him for months while all the paperwork was sorted out. The system is terrible, no offense dad.” Burt sighed and nodded. It was a poor system, but it was the most effective, and Kurt was still proud of his father for implementing it at a time when freeing slaves was almost unheard of.

“Kurt, you know we could get the waiting period shortened, you’d really only own him for a few weeks, and you wouldn’t be treating him like a slave-” Carole tried to reason before Kurt cut her off.

“I can’t own him, what kind of message would that send the people? That pleasure slaves are illegal, except if you’re royal? No. We have to come up with something else.”

“There is one other way, to free a pleasure slave.” Rachel offered, she looked nervous, but determined and Kurt eyed her warily. She was up to something, he could tell.

“Is it legal?” Burt asked gruffly, his gaze also wary.

“Absolutely. Mercedes?” Rachel’s maid hurried forward, a heavy book in her arms. She huffed as she heaved it onto the table and gave Kurt a significant look. Kurt had always liked her, even if it wasn’t proper to be friendly with the hired help.

“Any pleasure slave is considered immediately and legally free by the laws of all kingdoms, upon confirmation of betrothal.”

“You’re suggesting Kurt marry him.” Burt said flatly, and Rachel made a noise of annoyance in her throat.

“I’m merely suggesting Kurt should consider all the options available.”

“That’s not an option, that’s an ultimatum.” Burt rumbled, his voice growing rough as he tried to restrain his temper. Burt had never been a violent man, but Kurt knew his father would rain hell upon anyone who dared try to hurt or manipulate him.

“All I’m saying is it’s something to think about. Besides, it’s Kurt’s decision.” Rachel countered, apparently steadily ignoring the fact that Burt’s face was slowly turning the colour of a tomato.

“You think I’m gonna let my kid throw away his entire future for some boy he barely knows?”

Kurt tuned them out as they began to bicker over his future. He’d planned his wedding for nearly half his life, the flowers, the guests, the vows, even the exact colour of the silk tunic and hose he’d wear. The only thing he’d never managed to decide on was who’d be standing opposite him. But now as he ran through the fantasy, it was easy to imagine Blaine there, almost as simple as breathing.

“-Kurt?” He forced himself back to reality, meeting his father’s curious gaze and giving him a somewhat forced smile.

“I don’t- is there another way?”

“Not without legally owning him for a short period of time.” Rachel said in a sing-song voice, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. Kurt felt nauseous.

“I need some fresh air.” He murmured, pushing his chair out.

Blaine was asleep in his bed again. He’d obviously been waiting for Kurt to return, if the book sitting open beside him was any indication, though by the way he was slumped sideways against the pillows, Kurt had to assume he’d been asleep for quite some time.

Kurt was getting used to waking up with Blaine beside him. The first morning it had been a shock and after he’d woken Blaine with his cry of surprise it had taken several minutes to calm him down again. Blaine apparently just couldn’t sleep alone. He always started off in his own room, before eventually sneaking across the hall and sliding in beside Kurt, burying his face in the warm curve of his neck.

The last few nights however, he’d entirely given up the pretense of getting in his own bed and when Kurt had found him sleeping peacefully in his, he couldn’t really bring himself to be too put out about it.

“Blaine?” He murmured, gently shaking the sleeping boys shoulder until one dark eye cracked open and peered up at him sleepily. He smiled happily at Kurt, yawning widely and licking his lips, leaving them spit-shiny and so deliciously pink that Kurt felt something hot and wanting curl inside him. There's no way Kurt would ever give this boy up.

"Hey." He said softly, and Blaine blinked sleepily, eyes warm and soft and made a noise of contented greeting.

“Sit up for a minute? I have to tell you something.” Blaine managed to haul himself into a somewhat upright position, rubbing one eye and sinking back against the pillows, sleep clearly trying to pull him back under.

“A message came today, from King Wesley.” Blaine’s eyes widened as Kurt plowed on. “He’s demanding the return of all his fathers possessions.”

“Me.” Blaine said in a tiny voice, visibly shrinking into himself.

“Yes, but that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not going to send you back, but I can’t own you either, you understand?” Blaine nodded, still wide-eyed.

“But uh, Rachel suggested something else, and I wanted you to decide.” Kurt tore his eyes  away from Blaine’s, looking at his fingers twisting in his lap instead. “If we got married, you’d be free. No paperwork, no waiting, nothing.” He heard Blaine’s sharp intake of breath next to him and forced himself to look, already knowing what he had to say next.

“You don’t have to say yes, and you can take all the time you want to think about it, but, I want you to know that I wouldn’t be unhappy, being married to you. You told me- you told me you always want me? Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I feel the same way. About you.” Blaine looked disbelieving. Of course he did, sweet, lovely Blaine who’d been half in love with Kurt from that first night, and Kurt who’d barely touched him in a month and was suddenly proposing. No one could blame him for having reservations

“Just think about it for me? Please?” Blaine nodded silently, his eyes bright. Kurt didn’t like to think about just how much he hoped Blaine did say yes. His dad was going to absolutely lose it when he found out, and that was only provided Blaine said yes. Kurt didn’t particularly like thinking about the alternative either.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” He asked quietly, already stripping down to his undershirt to sleep. Blaine watched every movement carefully, his eyes following Kurt as he kicked off his breeches and climbed into the bed, sliding under the blankets and looking up at Blaine.

He should not have been as surprised as he was when Blaine promptly put the book on the bedside table and curled into his side, his face automatically tucking into the crook of Kurt's neck. He didn’t drift easily into sleep the way he normally would, and Kurt rubbed his hand over his back and pretended not to notice. Blaine had a lot to think about.