Blaine didn’t have to begin getting ready for the ball until much later, so he wandered aimlessly through the castle, choosing to amble down the corridors that were rarely inhabited. He found himself thinking back to the last night the Hummelberries had been here, a year ago. There had been a wonderful Summer Solstice ball that night and Blaine had danced for hours.

He remembered the way he had stepped out into the cool, open corridor and breathed in the refreshing summer air. It was charged with another person’s presence when the air reached his lungs, and Blaine turned to find Kurt leaning gracefully against the stone wall.

It was dark, but the moon shone a silver light on the two of them.

Blaine squinted his eyes against the memory, placing his hand on the wall to steady himself as he walked. Don’t think about what happened, Blaine. It will only make this worse.

But, he couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t help remembering the words the two of them had exchanged, the breaths they had shared, the way Kurt’s hand felt pressed against the small of his back.

Stop it, Blaine.

The way Blaine had pressed Kurt gently against the wall, the way the older boy’s lips had trailed along the skin of Blaine’s neck.

You’re a masochist, Blaine.

“Hi,” said a lilting voice; a voice that was painfully familiar. It sounded like singing, like joy, like sunshine.

Blaine stopped in his tracks and found that he had wandered to a small nook in a far corner of the castle, a place the three of them had often spent talking for hours about nothing. A stained glass window shone a rainbow of lights onto the deep blue carpet, where a pair of fashionable black boots stood. Blaine followed the black boots up a pair of mile-long legs clad in well-fitting trousers, a torso that was thin but muscled, shoulders that shook when he laughed, and a face so beautiful that it made Blaine want to cry.

“Hi, Kurt,” he breathed.

“I sort of thought I would find you here,” Kurt said, smiling slightly at Blaine, who was standing there rigidly. He knew that if he relaxed his muscles even the slightest, he would throw himself into Kurt’s arms, and that kind of conduct was not appropriate for a married man.

“I was just. . . thinking about things. Spacing out. My feet led me here,” Blaine answered, slightly breathless.

Kurt just stared at Blaine, a wonderful glint of wild life in his eyes that Blaine loved so much.

“I missed you,” Kurt said, and Blaine closed his eyes.

He kept them closed as he heard Kurt coming closer with the softest of movements. When he opened them again, the angel was inches away, gazing at Blaine with a delicate hunger, a desperate yearning.

“I don’t want you to marry my sister,” Kurt breathed, his voice a part of the peaceful stillness. “Neither do you. Neither does she.”

“It’s a bit of a problem,” Blaine muttered quietly and Kurt let out a soft laugh.

“What do you want, Blaine?” Kurt asked, reaching up a hand to stroke a soft curl away from Blaine’s forehead. “Tell me what you want.”

Blaine swallowed hard and, as if he were watching from outside of his body, felt his arms lift to curve around Kurt’s slim waist. Blaine leaned forward and their cheeks glided together. Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt’s ear. He felt Kurt shiver and place a firm hand at the nape of Blaine’s neck.

“I want you,” Blaine whispered.

Kurt moaned softly, the sound sending a fiery current through Blaine’s entire body like a strike of lightning, causing him to wobble slightly.

He pulled back just far enough so that his and Kurt’s lips were a hairsbreadth apart.

“Kiss me,” Kurt murmured against Blaine’s lips.

Blaine’s heart jumped into his throat and he stared so deeply into Kurt’s glittering blue eyes he felt as if he would fall in.

Softly, ever so lightly, Blaine pressed his lips against Kurt’s. He inhaled sharply, feeling as if his entire body had been set on fire. A tingling sensation beginning at the base of his spine spread throughout his entire body to the very tips of his fingers. He felt Kurt’s lips part underneath his and he kissed him deeper, sliding his tongue between the boy’s lips and tugging Kurt’s tongue into his own mouth.

They tightened their grip on each other as they kissed hungrily. The room felt as if it were spinning beneath them, tipping from side to side, throwing them around the world and back again. Their breathing came in short gasps, and in that moment, Blaine could see it all.

He could see his future with Kurt. Kurt as his husband, making love to Kurt on their wedding night, loving Kurt for the rest of eternity.

And then suddenly: Blaine, if you don’t stop now, everything will fall apart, a tiny voice said in his head.

And just like that, Blaine remembered that his future was not his own. As if he had been thrown into the ocean, he remembered his duty to his country and to his parents and to Rachel. Poor Rachel, who didn’t want any of this.

Blaine broke away from the kiss and stumbled backwards. Kurt gasped for air and looked at Blaine, shocked.

“Oh, God,” Blaine choked out. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Kurt. I can’t- I can’t- you and I are- we can’t-”

But, instead of fighting to articulate his feelings, Blaine saw the hurt look on Kurt’s face and darted away into the shadows.

Hours later, he was composed once more, almost cruelly so. He had wiped his emotions away and let them drift off into the warm bathwater. He dressed mechanically, taking care to smooth down every single crease of his elaborate suit, trimmed with dark green and glittering gold. Blaine had combed his hair back with so much precision that he had nearly taken the curl out of it. He felt strangely alone, even with the comforting presence of his dearest friends and family elsewhere in the castle.

Barely holding on to his humanity, he made his way to his father’s study, where he had been called to speak with the King before the engagement ball began.

“You look very regal, son,” his father stated proudly when he entered the high-ceilinged, book-lined room. Blaine inclined his head in acknowledgement and then sat down on a red velvet chair his father had indicated.

Letting his royal demeanor fade slightly, Blaine’s father sat down across from him and leaned forward slightly. 

“You understand the dire importance of this marriage, Blaine.”

It was not a question, so Blaine said nothing. His father continued.

“Dalton needs the military assistance of McKinley in order to defend against Carmel. Without them, our country will cease to exist. That sort of alliance is not easily created, son. There must be a promise made. By marrying Princess Rachel, you will be uniting our countries together and saving thousands of lives.”

“Yes, father,” Blaine said stiffly.

“And once this ball is over, you can begin your training and fight alongside your cousins and other honorable soldiers,” said the King. “You will do great things, son. You will be a great man, I’m sure of it.”

Blaine swallowed hard. “Yes, father.”

“What better woman to marry than your best friend?”

Blaine forced a small smile and nodded.

Do you even know? Blaine wanted to ask his father. Do you know how I yearn for a wonderful man with every fiber of my being? Do you know how I would give my life for him? Do you know that as long as I breathe, I will love him?

He was sure the answer was no.