Needless to say, Prince Blaine Anderson woke up yet again with an intruder in his bedroom. However, this time, upon seeing his father, looking regal and intimidating as always standing by Blaine’s picture window, he leaped out of bed and stood ramrod straight.

“Sit down, son,” said his father quietly. “I wanted to speak with you.”

Blaine swallowed nervously, trying to determine in his father’s unreadable facial expression if he was angry or not. Slowly, he sat down on the bed and waited for his father to continue. He was surprised by the King’s presence in his bedchamber. His father rarely paid his personal quarters a visit.

The Prince watched as his father settled down on a spindly-legged stool by the looking glass. The King leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, observing his son’s tense posture with gray eyes that betrayed nothing.

“I’ve been told you returned home very late last night after spending the entire evening off with the young prince and princess.”

Blaine decided it was best to remain silent.

“I don’t expect much from you, son, and I--”

“You’re kidding right?” Blaine’s blood had suddenly begun boiling at his father’s casual words. “You don’t expect much from me?”

The King raised his voice. “Blaine, don’t speak to--”

Blaine stood and glared down at his father, who showed only the barest hint of annoyance in his eyes of steel. 

“At the age of seventeen, I am expected to become a warrior in the King’s army and to save lives, and marry a beautiful young woman that I do not love, and give that doomed princess children, and take control of an entire country that shuns my best friend, as well as abandon all attempts at trying to enjoy myself with two people that I care very much about! That does seem like much, doesn’t it, father?” Blaine spat the last word, and then pressed his lips into a thin line, breathing heavily with his fists clenched at his sides.

“It is your duty and your birthright!” shouted the King, standing up to tower over his only son. “You have known since the day you came into this world that your life would begin at age seventeen!”

“Well, it actually feels as if my life is ending, because I don’t want any of this.”

Blaine crossed his arms defiantly.

“Unfortunately, it does not matter what you want,” hissed the King, staring in disappointment at Blaine. “You have an entire country whose wants and needs come before your own.”

Blaine bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, out the window at the late morning sun. “I didn’t ask for this,” he whispered, voice trembling.

“That doesn’t change the fact that this is what you are meant to do. It’s time to stop acting like a child, Blaine, and become a man. Life isn’t supposed to be easy, and I’m truly disgusted by your lack of honor,” said the King, voice hard with anger. “Here you sit complaining to me about how difficult your life is becoming, selfish as a toddler. We are royalty, Blaine Anderson, we do not live for ourselves. You must live for our people, because they depend on you.”

Blaine was quiet.

The King cleared his throat and made his way to the door. “You have been courting Princess Rachel for one month. Tonight there will be a ceremonial dinner in the Grand Hall, and as your father and the King, I demand that you be on your very best behavior.”

The second the door slammed closed behind his father, Blaine sunk to the cold marble floor and tucked his knees into his chest. Tears streamed down his face, delicate trembles took over his shoulders, and his heart sunk with guilt.

He had been so stupid. He thought he could stay a child, pretend to adore Rachel, and love Kurt behind the curtain. He thought he could avoid everything eventually.

Blaine thought his father was right to be disgusted by his recklessness. He had hundreds of thousands of people watching his every move and counting on him. He must do as he is told, for their sakes.

He would have to let Kurt go. He would have to keep Rachel from Finn.

He would have to ignore every single thing that his heart screamed for.

And he would do it, because above all things, Blaine Anderson was loyal, and his duty would always come first.

After spending the entire day locked away in his room, ignoring every single knock on his locked door, Blaine picked himself up from his nest of sheets and blankets and moved to his looking glass. Staring back at him through the mirror was a human he barely recognized. With hard eyes, devoid of emotion, the smallest touch of gray around the edges, Blaine took in the appearance that he had spent all day building. His jaw was hard-set and his chin held high.

Dressing himself the traditional royal attire of black pants and a green jacket with a gold sash, Blaine put on layers of indifference. He turned off his heart, ignoring the memories of yesterday that he yearned to revisit.

With his royal mind in charge, Blaine entered the Grand Hall to the sound of a trumpet and a dramatic announcement. Dozens of faces blurred before his vision, but his father’s caught his eye. The King seemed to sense the change that had overcome his son, and looked on proudly.

Blaine bowed to Princess Rachel, who stood nearby in a stunning violet gown that glittered underneath the chandeliers. She curtsied back, brows furrowing when she saw that Blaine’s eyes were lacking in their usual amusement, the sense of delight that never left his demeanor.

“Are you okay, Prince Blaine?” Rachel murmured, glancing over at Prince Kurt, who stood next to her, completely ignored by the other Prince.

“Life is grand, Princess Rachel. How are you this evening?” His voice was dull and his words sounded as if they were rehearsed. Blaine looked at Rachel, demanding himself to admire her natural beauty and smile minutely at her.

“Currently? I’m frightened. Did something happen? We haven’t seen you all day,” Rachel whispered, gesturing between her and Kurt. “Are you sick? The lake water was fairly cold. . .”

Blaine swallowed hard and forced himself not meet Kurt’s imploring gaze. “I spent this morning speaking with my father about various affairs and I’ve been quite busy preparing for the many things I am required to do as the next King of Dalton. I apologize for my absence.”

Realization hit the Hummelberry siblings like a meteor. Of course, they communicated in a single glance. Only the King could bring this out in Blaine.

Rachel and Kurt frowned, knowing there was nothing to be done at this point. Prince Kurt bowed his head and stepped away to take a seat at the far end of the elaborate dining table. Rachel timidly placed her hand in the crook of Blaine’s stiff elbow, allowing herself to be led to a seat right next to the Queen. 

Blaine’s mother watched her son with only sorrow in her eyes, but she did not say a word. She kept telling herself that it was all for the best. Her son’s happiness had to be sacrificed, her husband had told her, for the good of the country.

Instead of mentioning heavy subjects, the Queen of Dalton engaged Princess Rachel in their usual whisperings of wedding plans, though Rachel was distracted by her worry.

The entire dinner was torture for Blaine. He could feel Kurt’s presence, growing stronger with each passing second, a dozen chairs away. It was as if his heartbreak rolled off of him in physical waves that slammed against Blaine’s heart with each breath.

The Dukes Nick and Jeff attempted to tell Blaine about the latest athletic adventure they had conducted in the parapets of the West Wing of the castle, but when he failed to join in on their excitement and amusement, the best friends turned away, looking defeated and exchanging a look of raised eyebrows and questioning eyes.

When the final course had been served and Blaine had managed to force it down his dry throat, the King stood. At the sound of trumpets, Prince Blaine and Princess Rachel stood as well, on the opposite end of the table.

Several waiters slid by and handed out glasses of pink champagne. Rachel took Blaine’s arm and Blaine prepared to give the speech his father expected him to.

“I yield the conversation of this dinner, celebrating the first month of the Anderson-Hummelberry engagement, to my son, Prince Blaine Anderson,” boomed the King, smiling down at his adoring dinner guests who gazed at him and his aura of power with awe.

Blaine tried to adopt the same demeanor, wiping away everything his heart wanted, allowing his brain to tell him what he was supposed to want.

“Thank you, dear father,” Blaine said strongly, bowing his head slightly in his father’s direction and then meeting the eyes of every dinner guest evenly. Everyone, that is, except for Prince Kurt, shoulders bowed and face turned towards his flute of bubbly champagne.

“I would like to thank all of you for attending this dinner celebrating my joyous engagement to the beautiful Princess of McKinley,” Blaine began, giving Rachel a fond smile, which she returned with surprise. “There are no words to express my true happiness at being allowed to love such a precious young woman and have her rule by my side for the rest of our lives.”

Looking on, and realizing it was no longer an act, Duke Finn’s eyes hardened in defeat and resignation. Similarly, Kurt dropped his head farther forward and bit his tongue to keep his desperate cry of sadness from slipping past his lips.

Blaine continued his speech, becoming more confident as the royals gazed at him, impressed and raptured, smiling faintly at their young Prince.

“I promise, as future King of Dalton, to bring peace and prosperity and stability to our fine country with heirs fit to continue the this strong royal bloodline. I am blessed and honored to be given this life to live. I thrive on your support and the love of my future wife.”

When Blaine finished speaking, he turned his face to Rachel and leaned in to kiss her confidently. She was surprised at first, but knew that she had no choice but to respond and kiss Blaine back. He deepened the kiss slightly as the crowd clapped, and then pulled away, lifting his glass to the angels painted on the ceiling high above.

“To Dalton!” he exclaimed, smiling as the entire room echoed his words and tilted their heads back to the toast.

Beside him, Rachel’s throat tightened when she caught Duke Finn’s eyes. She shook her head, a motion that was nearly undetectable, and gazed at the love of her life with sadness in her eyes. Meanwhile, Blaine ignored Kurt’s pained expression, his ocean eyes singing of a lost cause and a lost love.

Rachel turned to Blaine, smiling timidly at him and answering his expression with a kiss.

Yes, we will do as they say, the kiss said.

I must love him, thought Rachel.

I must love her, thought Blaine.

And so, to become well-acquainted with this future that neither wanted, the couple resigned themselves to delving into the world they would soon have to visit as husband and wife.

Kurt watched them disappear into an empty pocket of the castle and, unaware of the movements of his own feet, followed his best friends as the dinner guests dispersed, chatting amiably to one another and unaware of the silent tragedy that was taking place.

Behind a velvet tapestry, Prince Blaine and Princess Rachel kissed each other, forcing themselves to activate the teenage hormones they knew they had. Clumsily tangled in an uncomfortable embrace, they tried to make their lips fit together properly. They only succeeded in making the kiss even more difficult to continue.

Be a man, Blaine. You will soon have to make love to her. We are just bodies. It is nothing. You don’t have to feel a thing.

With an odd conviction, Blaine tightened his grip on Rachel’s waist and tilted his head to mold his lips against hers. Rachel gasped, and did her very best to respond properly.

Nearby, unbeknownst to the couple, Kurt stood on the other side of the tapestry. His feet were frozen to the floor, his body unable to move as he watched the forms of Blaine and Rachel move gently against the heavy tapestry. A strange, chilling sensation exploded across his entire body and a sharp pain blew through his heart like a bullet. Unsettling lightness clouded his mind and he felt detached, like his soul was being ripped from his body.

He felt as if he were dying.

Then, before he could stop himself, a desperate sound of anguish escaped from his throat. It was the kind of sound a human would make as they fell from a great height and knew that the future had only seconds left in it for them. The kind of sound that a person would make in defeat, when they knew everything was over.

So, before Rachel or Blaine could find him standing there, Kurt ran away.

He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to be far away from this, as far away as possible.

Behind the tapestry, Rachel pulled away from Blaine.

“I should return to my bedchamber,” she said, eyeing Blaine with an odd expression. “It’s getting late.”

Blaine nodded wordlessly and watched her disappear. As she walked away, she could not stop thinking about how badly she hated herself for doing this to herself, to Blaine, and to her brother. She was worthless. She should not have done that with Blaine. She loved Finn, that was one thing she could not deny.

You must behave like Blaine, she thought to herself, quietly slipping into her darkened bedchamber. You must realize that there is a difference between your dreams and your destiny, and that the latter is far more important.

Princess Rachel Hummelberry’s heart was the fourth and final heart to break that evening.