Rachel Hummelberry, future Queen of Dalton, descended the marble staircase into the ballroom, clad in a blood red gown that was tight at the bodice but fell to the floor in cascades of twirling taffeta. It rustled as she took slow, graceful steps in her golden shoes, the shifting air causing thin strands of her dress to float outwards. It was as if the dress itself was alive.

She looked down upon the spinning rainbow of color below her, a mass of people dancing and laughing and enjoying themselves. They all looked so happy.

Oh, yes, of course, Rachel thought. They’re happy because I’m marrying their Prince.

Rachel looked to where Blaine was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase with perfect posture. He looked upset. Rachel remembered that he had gone to speak with his father briefly, and she began to understand his state of unrest. 

When she finally reached him, he smiled kindly at her, but there was a struggle beneath the relaxed demeanor. It broke her heart to see her dearest friend forced into a future he didn’t want. She loved him, like a second brother, but she could not give him what he needed. And in turn, he could not give her what she needed. Wanted. 

Everything was a mess.

“You look beautiful,” Blaine said as he bowed and kissed Rachel’s hand.

She pretended to blush. “Oh, Prince Blaine. How you speak the truth!”

The corner of his mouth turned upwards slightly and Rachel smirked, feeling rather proud of herself for making him smile, if only a bit.

“You look very handsome, too, your royal highness,” she said, brushing her hand across his forehead, which was cool to the touch.

She could see the effort it took for him to remain composed, and she wondered what had happened to set him on edge. Blaine took her hand. “May I have this dance, dearest friend?”

“Friend?” scoffed Rachel mockingly.

Blaine let out a short laugh and shook his head. “May I have this dance, future wife?”

She smiled brightly at him, hoping that if she was happy and optimistic, it might rub off on him. She allowed him to lead her to the center of the ballroom, and although they had just been joking, Rachel could see how easily Blaine was falling into discontent.

As they waltzed, Rachel gazed about at the crowd of dancing people. She had known many of them since she was young, due to her several visits to the Dalton Castle over the course of her entire life. She recognized Blaine’s cousins and aunts and uncles. She noticed the King and Queen seated on a plush couch, talking amiably with their good friends, Lord Mike and Lady Tina.

She looked back at Blaine, who was going through the steps of the dance mechanically. Blaine seemed to realize that she had noticed and sighed.

“I’m sorry. I’m trying, I really am. It’s just not in me today,” he said.

“Hey, it’s alright,” soothed Rachel.

After a minute, Rachel’s brow furrowed. “Is my brother here?”

Blaine immediately stiffened and all of Rachel’s attention focused in on him and his reaction. “I haven’t seen him,” Blaine answered tightly.

“Did something happen?”

“We, uh, we kissed,” he said quietly.

“Ah, I understand.”

Blaine nodded sheepishly. “I’m a horrible husband-to-be.”

“Of course you aren’t!” Rachel exclaimed. “Are you kidding? This is so dramatic!”

Blaine raised his eyebrows at her, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.

Rachel smiled. “I totally give you permission to conduct a steamy affair behind my back.”

“Rachel!”

“What? If I’m giving you permission...”

“Well, if you’re giving me permission, it’s not as scandalous.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Yes, but still quite scandalous. And sexy.”

“Rachel.”

“Blaine.”

Blaine heaved an exasperated sigh. “It’s not going to work. We were kissing and then I realized that I was ruining everything for my father and my country and the alliance and-”

She cut him off. “I don’t understand why marrying him would make any difference to the alliance.”

“For a marriage in an alliance to work, there has to be the possibility of consummation and a baby.”

“No offense, Blaine, but I’m not too keen on having your child.”

Blaine snorted and then spun Rachel in his arms along with the rest of the crowd of dancers.

“So, what happened after you became overcome with guilt?” Rachel asked.

“I kind of ran away.”

Rachel stared at him blankly.

“I know, I know. I’m a child.”

Rachel just shook her head. “Sometimes I swear I have to do everything myself. Just leave it to me. Kurt is my brother. I’ll help him understand.”

“Rachel, I’m sure he already does.”

Before she could answer, a trumpet blared and the music ceased. The dancers stopped dancing and the entire crowd in the ballroom turned to face the spot where the King stood with a champagne flute raised up high.

“A toast!” he shouted in a booming voice that Blaine knew had the power to command thousands of troops, but at this moment was suggesting a merry tribute. Everyone scrambled for a drink, and soon both Blaine and Rachel held a glass of bubbly champagne. Desperately, Blaine scanned the crowd for Kurt, hoping that he at least appeared to be having a good time.

“To the Prince and future Princess of Dalton!”

Loud cheers broke out across the ballroom and hundreds of glasses were raised to the vaulted ceiling. The crowd repeated the King’s words and turned to stare expectantly at Blaine and Rachel.

“Oh, God, no, you don’t think...?” Rachel said, glancing around at the smiling crowd, all waiting for something very specific.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Blaine answered, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he caught Kurt’s gaze, finally, from across the room. Slowly, Kurt raised his glass in Blaine’s direction, arching a single eyebrow in question as if to say, Do it, Blaine. Give them what they want.

“I’m really sorry, Blaine,” Rachel muttered before their lips met in a chaste, meaningless kiss. The court cheered and then Blaine pulled back, trying to hide his obvious discomfort.

“That bad, huh?” Rachel laughed.

Blaine snickered. 

The dancing resumed, and the whole time, Blaine watched Kurt mill around the room and chat with his old friends. He even danced with a few girls, just for show.

“Excuse me, Prince Anderson, but could I cut in?” asked a friendly male voice from behind. Blaine turned to find his good friend Duke Finn Hudson, who was quite a bit taller than Blaine. He held a very high position in the Dalton army and Blaine had heard he was a hero on the battlefield. Blaine thought Duke Finn to be a very honorable person, and by the way Rachel was making starry eyes at him, he was not about to protest.

“She’s all yours,” Blaine said graciously and stepped back. He waggled his eyebrows at Rachel behind Finn’s back, and she shot him a glare before turning back to engage the handsome man in conversation.

As Blaine retired to the side of the room, he greeted the guests happily and thanked them for their congratulations. Several minutes later, he was finally free, and he leaned against a deep green tapestry next to Kurt.

“It looks like my sister has a thing for the Duke,” said Kurt amiably. Blaine knew he was trying to ease the tension, but his guilt was too much.

“Listen, Kurt, I’m really sorry that I ran way earlier. It was so childish.”

Kurt’s eyes softened and he watched Blaine, smiling gently. “There’s nothing wrong with being a child, Blaine. I miss it every day. Anyway, I understand. You’ve got too much depending on this marriage with my sister and... and I... I’m not appropriate in her place.” He looked away sharply and bit his lip.

“Kurt,” Blaine said softly, placing his hand lightly over the other boy’s. Kurt turned to look back at him. “We all want things we can’t have.”

Kurt nodded and looked defeated, but Blaine continued.

“But, on the surface, if we do what we’re told, not a soul will suspect the secrets underneath.”

“What are you saying?”

Blaine grinned. “Can you keep a secret, Prince Kurt?”