A/N: Zoinks, so it looks like all I had to do was ask *blushes* I feel a little foolish, not going to lie, but thanks bunches to everyone who was kind enough to review last chapter *hugs you all* And finally in this chapter we get more Blaine, yay!

Enjoy!

Late Spring, 628 A.D.; Lima, Algania

"Kurt? Kurt!" A voice drifted in and out of focus, and slowly Kurt came to realize that it was calling his name. "Are you awake?"

"No," he growled, grabbing a fistful of his pillow fabric and pulling it over his head. "Go away."

"I would," continued the voice, "but I'm under express orders from Lady Carole that I shouldn't leave until I was sure you were up and about. She says you're late."

"For what?" The end of his sentence trailed off as he realized what he was late for. "Shit." He stumbled out of his bed, momentarily hopping on one foot when his ankle got twisted in the sheets. He looked up at the person who had spoken to see that it was Rachel, the handmaiden that Finn was apparently enamored with, although he hadn't left Quinn's side since the wedding. "They aren't here are they?"

"No, no one has come yet," Rachel responded quickly, shaking her head. "But the royal family has already assembled in anticipation of their arrival."

"They obviously won't be coming all at once," Kurt grumbled, racing back and forth across his room, grabbing various items. "So why bother?"

"It's protocol?" She offered.

"That's insightful of you," he said shortly, grabbing an ivory comb. He looked in her direction to see her head lower as she began to walk away. "Rachel," he called, making her turn toward him once more. "I didn't mean to be short with you. I'm simply frustrated with myself. I have an image to uphold, I shouldn't have overslept."

She gave Kurt a small smile. "You don't have anything to be anxious about," she said, though Kurt had never mentioned the word. "Everyone who meets you loves you; you can do no wrong."

"Well, I'm not sure about that," Kurt responded with a chuckle. "So even Finn is there, then? Good Lord, this really is a travesty if he's up and about before me."

"He is." Something in Rachel's voice made Kurt look up at her, only to see that there was a faint color in her cheeks and a distant look in her eyes.

Slowly, he arched a questioning eyebrow. He silently noted her reaction and filed it away for future reference. Instead of mentioning it, Kurt merely cleared his throat conspicuously, shocking her back to reality. "Yes, well…that'll be all. You can tell Carole and my father that I'm awake and I shall be there shortly." She nodded once and retreated from the room.

Banishing other people's problems from his mind, Kurt grabbed two different shirts and approached his mirror. The problem with thinking about this day so far in advance was that he'd had time to plan exactly twelve beautiful outfits, and now he had to decide on which one he would actually wear. He contemplated his reflection in the mirror, grimacing when he saw his disarrayed hair and the faint purple circles under his eyes, made more conspicuous by his pale skin. He hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights, which he guessed to be the reason he overslept today. It was ironic, considering that this was the very cause of his unrest. Blaine was supposed to come back to court today, so he could be knighted later that week with the rest of the successful squires.

Kurt hadn't seen the other young noble for seven years. He knew that he himself had certainly grown and changed in that time. He looked different: he'd grown a lot, especially in the last couple years, and his chest and shoulders had broadened a bit. He didn't speak all that differently, a fact that Dave was quick to tease him about, as the other boy had grown rather deep-throated. He certainly dressed differently though, Kurt thought as he decided on a shirt and slipped on the royal red of the court at Lima. As a prince who was in line for the throne, he was also mandated to wear a thin gold coronet around his head, signifying his station. Most of the time, he left it off. When he was with Sam or Mercedes, as he often was when they weren't attending to their duties, he despised wearing something that signified the gaping difference in their social classes.

He made his way to the water basin and splashed its contents over his face several times, careful not to let any of it touch his expensive garb. After that was done, he dipped the ivory comb into the water and carefully combed back his hair into its usual flawless state. Usually his morning routine was at least three times as long but he was pressed for time at the moment. Kurt quickly laced up his boots and walked from the room, positioning the thin coronet on his head as he made his way through the halls.

"Late. Always late," Dave hissed at him as Kurt approached his side. "Some things never change, and some people never change."

"I overslept," Kurt replied quietly, nodding to Finn, who stood at his other side. "Let us not start fighting so early; we have the whole day to wait here next to each other."

"And it is unfortunate indeed." Kurt rolled his eyes at his cousin's response but didn't grace him with a retort. He didn't enjoy fighting with Dave, but his cousin certainly seemed to relish fighting with him for some reason. But today they would have to keep themselves at almost constant attention in the entrance hall. It was an unfortunate detail in the protocol of the royal family, but Kurt was used to it – they greeted the incoming knights the same way each year.

The rest of the court did not have to make themselves present. At about noon, Kurt started fidgeting and wishing that he could trade places with one of them. He would give anything to stretch his arms with just a few minutes of archery practice. They'd seen several sets of knights come, be greeted, then sent to see their new rooms with instructions to do as they wished before the feast they were to have in honor of the arrivals that night. Among those who had come were the majority of the knights that had first accompanied Blaine when Kurt had seen him at the archery strips. Yet still no Blaine.

Kurt tried not to look too eager every time he saw a procession approaching. If he had changed so much in the last seven years, he wondered how much Blaine had changed. As he often had over the time they'd been separated, he wondered what exactly Blaine looked like. He wondered what they would do. It was certainly no longer appropriate to play tag in the halls, or run from the guards.

Slowly Kurt's attention shifted from reality to fantasy, and the minutes and hours when he pondered about what would happen when his friend returned passed more quickly than when he had been staring blankly across the room at the intricate paintings on the wall. Kurt let his mind wander where it felt inclined to go.

He was wondering if time somehow made amber eyes less brilliant when Kurt felt a sharp poke dig into his side. "Ow! What?" He hissed quietly at Dave, who was drawing his hand back to himself.

"Looks like you and your little friend have something in common," Dave whispered, keeping his voice low. Kurt's head turned sharply and he did indeed see that a new procession had come into the hall. In fact, they had already reached the king. A quick glance outside showed him that the light of the day had begun to fade. Briefly, he wondered how time had passed that quickly without him realizing it, but a rumbling noise from his stomach in the next moment convinced him that it was no trick of the light; it had gotten late without him realizing.

But he looked away from the sky quickly, to the people who were speaking to the king. "You're both always horribly late," Dave continued as Kurt's eyes quickly searched out the face he was looking for. If Dave had mentioned Blaine, he had to be among the group somewhere. "The last ones to arrive, in fact."

"Everyone is here?" Kurt asked absently, leaning onto the balls of his feet. His eyes caught the back of a green tunic – the forest green of the Ashtabula fief – as they were led down the opposite hall. He sunk back onto his feet in disappointment. His first chance to see Blaine again and he'd missed it by daydreaming about his first chance to see Blaine again. It was a cruel, unlucky twist of irony.

"Here and seen to their chambers," Dave responded, breaking the line as their family began to disperse. "Dinner is upon the hour, and don't be late."

Kurt shook his head and watched him go. "You know one of the knights?" Finn spoke from Kurt's side, though he hadn't been aware that he'd been standing there still.

"Uh…no," Kurt said quickly. "I mean yes! Yes I do…sort of. We were friends as children in the court….acquaintances…no, definitely friends…I – uh, yeah I know him." He knew them all, really, though none as well as Blaine. Now he had made a complete dunce out of himself by babbling like an idiot at Finn, who was surveying him warily. Why had he acted like such a stuttering fool anyways? "I – uh, I'll see you at dinner, Finn." Berating his own lack of composure, Kurt walked quickly away from his new brother.

Kurt didn't have a chance to seek out Blaine before the feast, and in all honesty he was too nervous to take the action. He had such a fond past with him – Kurt had never felt such a strong, immediate friendship with anybody before, even Sam – and he didn't want anything that might happen in the present to negatively affect his memories of their past.

He had to continually tell himself that he was making too big of a deal out of the situation. He'd built it up so much in his mind that it was no wonder he was getting more anxious by the second. He just needed to take a deep breath and relax. He had to remind himself that he was being absolutely, embarrassingly ridiculous.

The young prince marched to the banquet hall with a fierce resolution to stop being so silly. Nevertheless, he paused outside the thick doors and took time to make sure his hair was in order and to replace his coronet neatly on top of his head.

He entered the room to extreme hustle and bustle. "What the…" he began, his sentence trailing off as he looked around. There were many long tables present that were not there usually and, of course, the perpendicular one at the far end of the room that was meant for the royal family. The crowd was astounding; Kurt knew that the feast was for the entire royal court but he'd underestimated how many people that would be with the new additions.

"Kurt," a familiar voice called to him and Kurt spun to meet Mercedes gratefully. She was carrying several platters; her mother was the head chef in the court and Mercedes seemed to have taken up her affinity for the art.

"What is going on here?" He asked, looking around at everyone that was assembled. Almost no one was sitting; they were all visiting others and socializing. When the king and queen entered, they would all sit for the meal. "I'll never find anybody in this crowd."

"Who are you looking for?" She questioned as Kurt followed her to the nearest table and she set down the platters in their assigned spots.

"No one," Kurt answered, shaking his head and trying not to look disappointed again. "I just meant that I wouldn't be able to locate anyone at all if I was, there are so many people."

"Speaking of all the people," she said, brushing her hands on her apron. "I'd better get back to work."

"Oh, I'll come and help," he said quickly, making to follow her.

"Kurt," Mercedes said with a laugh, taking his shoulders and turning him toward the head table. "You'll do nothing of the kind. You'll sit where you're supposed to and look pretty; that's your job. I swear, sometimes you forget who you are."

"All the time," he told her, grinning at her one last time before she disappeared in the crowd of people. He sighed as her figure vanished from sight, and began to walk to the head table.

Kurt took his usual seat and set himself to scanning the vast hall. There were over a dozen long tables set up. The very edge tables were so far away that he couldn't identify the people who stood there. Trying to keep from giving himself over to frustration, Kurt stood as his aunt and uncle entered. People quieted immediately and bowed or curtseyed as they passed on their way to the table Kurt sat at. He returned his aunt's kind smile as she passed him, and sat a moment after they did.

He was hardly listening as his uncle said something about "honoring those who would pledge themselves to serve our great nation". He was still surveying the crowd with determination, but it was futile. There were altogether too many people there, he couldn't even locate the people he saw every day let alone one that he hadn't seen for seven years. He would just have to wait patiently, he told himself as he clapped to his uncle's brief speech. Or rather, not so patiently.

Kurt did a lot of thinking as he pushed his food around his plate, for he was hardly in the mood for eating even though he'd hardly had anything all day, his earlier hunger having disappeared; the dinner that had been prepared would have otherwise been delicious. As the feast wrapped up, he realized that there was only one place that he could go. The women would likely retire to one of their many sitting rooms to gossip about the new arrivals, and the men would do the same thing under the guise of drinking and otherwise making merry. It was a wild hope really, but Kurt hoped that Blaine – wherever he was – might have the same idea as him.

He dismissed himself from his family, kissing his aunt's cheek and telling his father that he'd been feeling off all day – an excuse that could double as the reason he'd slept late – and that all he needed was a bit of proper rest and he would be right as rain come the morning. He walked briskly from the banquet hall, ignoring both Finn's concerned and Dave's annoyed glances.

Free of the crowded room, Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't mind being the center of attention, in fact overall he quite enjoyed it, but there were times when he would rather be rid if it – now, for example. He made his way through the castle's winding ground floor and exited through the entrance hall doors. This put him at the main drawbridge of the castle. During the day, the bridge would be lowered and there would have been guards standing watch and inspecting anyone who requested admission into the castle. But now, well into the hours of the night, there was no one. The bridge was drawn up, leaving the wide moat impassable.

He wandered over to the side of the raised bridge and peered into the water below. In it he could see the clear spring night reflected. The moon wasn't near full but it was large enough to light up the darkness. Absently, Kurt turned to look at the drawbridge. He ran his hand up its wooden side gently, to avoid splinters. He'd stood in that spot almost seven years ago and promised that he would be standing right there when Blaine returned.

Of course, he hadn't known as much about ceremony and protocol then, when he'd been only eleven. He hadn't realized that he couldn't actually wait on the drawbridge for Blaine to meet him when he returned. Now he didn't even know where the other boy – the other man, really – was. For all he knew, he could have been offended that Kurt hadn't actually been there for him when he returned. Or a more terrifying prospect: that he had grown up and couldn't care less.

Kurt sighed and turned away from the bridge and back to the water. He was a fool for leaving the feast and coming to the drawbridge in pursuit of some fantastic imagining that a boy he hadn't seen in seven years would have the same farfetched, silly idea. He was torn between wanting to return to his chambers so he didn't sit there like a fool and wanting to plop himself down stubbornly and refuse to return to the castle with his tail between his legs. In the end, the latter desire won. It was a nice night out; the spring air was refreshing and not too cold. He wouldn't mind spending a bit of time outside after standing in the entrance hall for the better part of the day.

He sat in a nook on the edge of the stone wall so that he was able to look over the ledge into the moat should he desire. Instead, he leaned against a raised part of the wall and looked up into the sky. In a memory so fuzzy that he could hardly remember it, he recalled sitting with his mother outside in the warm summer months while she showed him the constellations that passed over their country in that season at night. He could see some of them, though they were in slightly different positions, it being earlier in the year.

As he thought about his mother, Kurt began to hum softly under his breath. His head leaned back on the wall to afford him a view of the sky, but now Kurt gently closed his eyes.

"Hello!"

Kurt's eyes snapped open immediately. The voice was deeper. The word was whispered and in all honesty phrased more as a question, but Kurt recognized it instantly. He hurriedly scrambled off of the open nook he'd been perched in and onto his feet. His heart had started pounding fiercely in his chest.

Before his eyes, in a scene he had imagined more times than he cared to admit, Blaine came around the corner and Kurt was presented with him face to face. He opened his mouth as if to speak but to his intense shock and embarrassment, no sound at all came out. He merely stood there staring, gaping, and internally barraging his brain for not making his limbs or vocal chords take any sort of action.

Blaine looked different in almost every way and yet he was still strangely the same. He'd cut what had previously been a wild thatch of unruly ebony so that it sat closer to his head than his earlobes, and yet despite the length it still curled in the same way and Kurt still had to fight to urge to reach out his hand and ruffle it up. The angles of his jaw had grown more masculine, and yet even in the darkness Kurt could see that the same brilliant amber color glinted from his large, deep-set eyes. He hadn't grown quite as much as Kurt had – he sat a couple inches shorter – but he'd grown broader and stronger from being a knight; even in the dark and through his forest green tunic, Kurt could see how the material stretched across his broad chest and wide shoulders.

After a moment of silence, a wide grin spread across Blaine's face, an infectious smile that had Kurt's lips stretching into one of their own. "I hope you did actually sleep some nights, and that you didn't spend them all out here by the drawbridge," Blaine teased, still grinning at Kurt.

"Well I said that I'd leave to eat, I didn't promise leaving to get sleep," Kurt responded, beginning to chuckle. After a moment, Blaine's laughs joined his own and Kurt moved forward to embrace his friend. A strange, pleased flutter kicked up some butterflies in his stomach when he felt Blaine return his embrace with equal strength. Kurt didn't usually get that close to people, Brittany being the only exception. It felt exceedingly strange to have another flat chest pressed up against his.

Closing his eyes briefly, Kurt turned his face inward slightly and inhaled Blaine's scent. He must have taken a bath in the short time since he had arrived at court, for he didn't smell like the dirt of the road but rather like lavender soap – a scent that Kurt was actually particularly fond of. Realizing that he might have held on to Blaine too long – and not realizing that Blaine hadn't made a move to break the contact first – Kurt hastily withdrew.

"How did you know I'd be out here?" He asked Blaine, eyes fixed on the other boy's face.

"I saw you leave the banquet hall early. I was…uh, I was watching you, actually," Blaine confessed, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "You didn't seem to see me when the company came in. Or I thought you might be…ignoring me for some reason."

"No," Kurt said quickly, reaching out to take Blaine's hand in his before he realized that they were both eighteen now, and two men holding hands wasn't the same as two five year old boys. "I have to stand there all day. If you don't zone out a bit or find something to occupy your thoughts, you're doomed." Kurt felt Blaine's hand slowly return the pressure. "And I was trying to look out over the crowd during the feast but there were just so many people…"

"I suppose I had it easy then. I knew where to look for you." His eyes left Kurt's and traveled to the thin coronet he still wore. "That's a nice touch," Blaine said, reaching up to brush his fingers lightly against the golden band. He smiled at Kurt – that secret smile that made him feel as if they were about to share an inside joke. "What, they don't let you wear flowers behind your ear anymore? Or is that out of fashion? Pity, I thought it was lovely; I might have given it a try."

"Oh I can put anything back in fashion," Kurt replied with a little self-assured nod. "If you're sure about the flowers, we can certainly make it work."

"I've heard you can," Blaine said, stepping toward the nook Kurt had been sitting in. He hadn't let go of Kurt's hand, and so he tugged him along. He sat on the stone and drew his legs up against his chest. Kurt sat next to him gingerly, letting their interlocked hands rest between them. "I've heard that the people have you under close watch here, observing what you do and mimicking it as soon as possible. Are you always under such close scrutiny?"

"There's no one watching me now."

"True."

"But I've heard things about you too," Kurt said enthusiastically. "Wonderful, wonderful things; no one has a single bad thing to say about Lord Ashtabula's squire." He smiled at Blaine. "They say he's quite the future knight – quite the hero."

"It sounds like a lot of things are being said about both of us," Blaine said with a laugh.

"At least it's all positive," Kurt offered.

"Indeed." Blaine paused and looked at the ground as he tapped his toe into a particularly scuffed area of the stone. "Though I also heard news of Prince David's combat successes –"

"They're nothing like yours," Kurt interrupted. "But if successes mean winning tournaments that people are afraid to let him lose, then you're quite correct. I believe he'll have quite a shock with people around that can actually contend with him."

Blaine smiled shyly before continuing, "I haven't heard anything of that sort…about you. I thought that perhaps Ashtabula is too far on the outskirts of the country; news is slow to reach us as it is."

"I didn't actually pursue the route of knighthood," Kurt said slowly. "Of course, I was still trained in the arts and Dave still can't beat me at archery…when I'm not distracted." His eyes flicked up to meet Blaine's momentarily and they shared a smile. "But I found that the sword forging, not to mention the sword fighting, and the lancing and the getting all sweaty…well, they weren't for me. Now the classes in chivalry I could handle, if only that were all it was."

"The getting sweaty wasn't for you?" Blaine asked, smothering something that sounded very like a mischievous giggle.

Kurt wanted to whack his head against something hard, hard enough to knock him out. Out of everything that he'd said, Blaine had to pick out that one detail? "Well we've already said that all eyes are on me, aren't they?" Kurt grinned slyly and raised an eyebrow. "I have great power, I have to be careful. If all of that had happened, next thing I knew people could be walking around everywhere drenched to the bone in sweat." At that moment, his stomach made an unholy grumble, his delayed hunger hitting him suddenly. Kurt wasn't sure whether he was thankful for it changing the subject or whether it was just another thing to be embarrassed about.

"Someone is paying for not eating their dinner, hmm?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I wasn't hungry…at the time," Kurt defended himself. "I might have been a little anxious today." Blaine would never have to know how big of an understatement that was.

"Should I be flattered?" Blaine asked, laying his unoccupied hand against his chest and receiving Kurt's glare with a wide smile. "Well if it's any consolation…I was a little bit anxious too." Kurt lifted his eyes to meet Blaine's amber gaze and found that he couldn't keep up his glare. "Does this call for a sojourn over to the kitchens, then?"

"I think it does," Kurt answered with a nod. Only as he stood and consequentially moved out of Blaine's grasp did he realize that they'd still been holding hands at all. He felt his cheeks heat up, and Kurt cradled his hand against his chest. "Oh! Uh…sorry. I didn't even…wow, I didn't even notice that I was still –"

Blaine also stood up, still smiling widely. "Why does this sound familiar?" He asked, momentarily leaning closer to Kurt and making him flush harder. He was suddenly glad for the relative cover of darkness because something was obviously wrong with his cheeks, making them flush almost proactively. "For fear of sounding overly repetitive, I'll just remind you that this ends with me saying it's alright." Blaine shrugged one shoulder and lifted a hand to touch the one cradled against Kurt's chest briefly, fingers gently tracing Kurt's skin before his hand dropped back down to his side. "And that it was kind of nice. C'mon!"

Blaine began to walk back toward the main castle and Kurt fell in step beside him. As they entered through the doors, Kurt stared at him through his lashes. He couldn't help it. The fluttering butterflies had made another clamor when Blaine had touched his hand; it had been horribly pleasant. He'd never felt anything quite like it before. The closest thing he could compare it to was the feeling you got when you were hurrying up a set of stairs and thought there was one more than there actually was: you were left to fall through nothing but air for a brief moment, leaving your stomach to flip and your heart to miss a beat.

Kurt hardly knew what that meant, and as he looked at Blaine he hardly cared to dwell on it. As many times as he had pictured this moment in his head over the last years, somehow it was better than all of his imaginings. This was reality.

"Do you so swear to be ever courteous and to never refuse your mercy to him that asks of it?" King Paul was standing before his large throne in the ceremony chamber. In his hands he held his sword, point to the ground and hands resting on the top of the jeweled hilt.

"I do so swear." Before him knelt Blaine. He was on bended knee, head bowed to the ground and sword at his side. He was dressed from head to toe in full armor and chainmail, as ceremony dictated.

"Good, for a knight of the realm should be ever courteous, kind, and gentle. He should be in the good favor of all. Do you so swear to uphold good, and cast aside the evil and vain glory of this world? Do you so swear to protect those who beseech action that will not result in your shame, and to uphold your word?"

"I do so swear."

"Good, for a knight might defend against evil, and protect those who are distressed. A knight of the realm must keep the word he has given to those who request it of him. Do you so swear never to bow to cowardice?"

"I do so swear."

"Good, for it is a knight's duty to risk danger for honor, and come to the aid of others as he would want them to come to his aid, should the need arise. Do you so swear to live a stainless existence, and do not or slay not anything that will dishonor the fair name of our nation?"

"I do so swear."

"Good, for a knight must abide by charity, abstinence, and truth. He must always seek glory for his king and country. Finally, do you give this oath of your own free will, and do you swear yourself to always protect the people and uphold the honor of our country?"

"I, Blaine Anderson of Westerville, do give myself to my king and country to protect and serve my honorable nation, and my fellow citizens."

The king smiled and raised his sword. Gently, he touched its blade to each of Blaine's shoulders and to the crown of his head. "Then rise, Blaine Anderson, knight of Algania."

Blaine raised his head and stood properly. The crowds assembled for the ceremony cheered – the loudest applause Kurt had heard, other than the cheers for his cousin. Everybody had heard many tales of the knight-in-training at Ashtabula, and everybody had been eager to see him knighted by the king.

Kurt stood in his proper place among the crowd, though he was clapping louder than anyone in his vicinity. He beamed at Blaine as the king approached the new knight and clapped him on the shoulder, exchanging words that Kurt couldn't hear.

The crowd broke its rigid ranks, as Blaine had been the last to be knighted; the order had been decided by a random draw. Kurt immediately made his way toward the new knight. As the king turned and walked away, Blaine turned. A smile lit his face as he saw Kurt making his way through the crowd.

"Congratulations, Sir Blaine," Kurt said playfully, stopping a few feet away and dipping into a small bow.

Blaine looked stunned. "Thank you. I can't believe this day has finally come. I can't believe I'm…I'm a knight!"

"You are," Kurt said with a chuckle, laying a hand on Blaine's shoulder over his armor as he turned them around and began to make for the large doors. "I never doubted you."

Blaine shot him a grateful smile and ducked his head, almost shyly. "I don't even know what I'm going to do now."

"Well that's the glorious thing about having a peace loving king. You don't have to do anything." Kurt was suddenly rather glad that his uncle wasn't the type of king who was keen to wage wars. If he had been, he might be saying goodbye to Blaine yet again. "But for now, you can go change out of that armor. The king and queen have quite the list of festivities lined up tonight, in celebration of the new knights."

"Should I be afraid?" Blaine asked, shooting Kurt a nervous glare. "That sounds intimidating."

"Perhaps just a bit," Kurt responded with an amused laugh. Blaine still looked slightly unsure, so Kurt moved his hand from his nearby shoulder to drape his arm around Blaine's shoulders entirely. They exited the large room and began making their way to the stairs that would take them up to the floor that held rooms for the nobility. "But you don't have to worry. You have me, don't you? I've been doing these things my entire life and believe me, being the center of attention isn't all bad. You'll get used to it; everybody seems to adore you, so you might even grow quite fond of it."

"We'll just have to see about that one," Blaine said, chuckling along with Kurt. "You're right about one thing though: I do have you." Kurt told himself that it was simply his imagination when Blaine leaned into his grip slightly, kicking up the butterflies in his stomach once again.

Fun Fact: Every order of knighthood had its own chivalric code that the knights had to pledge themselves by. Many of the real ones center around becoming a knight for God, which obviously isn't what I was going for here. It's probably painstakingly obvious that I'm drawing a lot of inspiration from Arthurian legend for this story. I know a lot about it, it's familiar territory for me, and it's easier to write in that register, so once again I used it and drew from different variations of the oath for a knight of Camelot for the Blaine's oath of knighthood. There's obviously no exact transcripts so I took bits and pieces of what a chivalric knight is expected to do and not do and converted them into the back-and-forth oath between Blaine and King Paul. If you Google "Knight's Oath to Camelot" you'll be able to see more criteria for being a knight of the realm. Much of what applied to the Knights of the Round Table applies to our knights here.

A/N: Oohh, the boys are already flirting and acting adorable. I was worried, when I began to write this chapter, that they might be awkward for a while but I'm glad they aren't!

I feel like I always have way too much to say in these author's notes, so I'm sorry if they bother anyone but I like to cover all my bases! I know people are excited for those M scenes - ohhh, believe me I am too, I might have already written them out of order because I was so dang eager *ahem* - and I know that a hot interaction is positively torture to wait for. But above all, I'm trying to shoot for realism as much as a I can here, you know? It isn't plausible for someone living in the days of chivalric knights to launch into a male-male relationship super quickly. They wouldn't have been taught anything about homosexuality besides that it was unnatural, and even that would be a stretch for people as young and sheltered as our lovely young nobles here. So I beseech all of you lovely readers to stick with me in spite of the lead-up that is happening. But there will be some jumps in the seasons ahead - after all, this background is Kurt reflecting on the events that happened to get him to where he was in the first chapter, not on everything that has ever happened at court. That was a super cryptic explanation, I tend to do that a lot. Let's just say: Good things come to those who wait, remember! :D

Thanks for reading, lovelies! :3