A/N : Another chapter update! Warning, this is going to be a bit angst! On the bright side, I brought in more New Direction characters in this one so I hope you like it.

Also, I make some change on the story plot in the Prolog. In it I mention that the people in the Second World have weakness which is located on their ring. Well, I decided to remove the ring part. I promise you that it did not change the whole story line on the previous chapters so don't worry about that :)

fostinefoli : Don't you worry about that. Blaine is just confused, that's all! And you bet I, will certainly put more drama into it *evil grin* Thanks!

blacksoulclearmind : duly noted! I really hope it does and thank you!


Anger and Sorrow

Apparently, it only took two days for Blaine to recover from his injuries. Luckily, there was no serious trauma, so by the second morning the healer cleared him out of the infirmary.

He dreaded that day since he knew who Kurt really was.

He put on his McKinley uniform half heartedly and not forgetting about slipping his leather pouch filled with the remaining Breyta beans. He was beyond relieved when he asked about it to the healer two days ago after Kurt left and said that she kept it for him. He thanked the young woman kindly and she bought the lie when he told her it was his medicine.

After she finished patching him up, Blaine poured all of the beans into his bed and counted it. As he suspected, the bean that he summoned before Kurt came was taken from his own stock. This morning he had eaten another one so he only got 27 beans left. He needed to be careful or he would run out of it before he could finish his duty.

To kill the royal family, including Kurt.

Kurt did not visit him again and Blaine was left with his own thoughts. Mercedes' words still haunted him, repeated itself like a broken gramophone.

He is Prince Kurt from the house of Hummel.

Of all the people that could be their prince, numerous other strangers with vicious golden eyes that he used to hate so much, why Kurt? The man had never done anything wrong to him other than being born with the name of Hummel. How should he face him next time they met, to face the one that he would have to kill eventually? Would Kurt still give his sweet innocent smile to him if he knew that Blaine's eyes color was different from his?

He finished tying the pouch onto his belt when a soldier came and stopped outside the already parted curtain. He gave a brief salute and delivered the message.

"The prince demands your presence at the Noble Throne," he said briefly.

Blaine sighed and finally nodded. He should not forget what they had done to Wes and why he came here in the first place.

Blaine hated the burden inside his chest, but Kurt's fate had been sealed since he walked through that gate.

He was a Dalton. Kurt was a McKinley.

"Lead the way," Blaine said with imposed conviction.


Two days ago

Kurt walked in fast steps across the castle toward his father's chamber. Mercedes had told him that the King demanded his presence immediately, and so without a second thought he left Devon to go to his father instead.

Devon; that man was such an interesting soldier.

While their meeting was considered very brief, he left a deep impression on Kurt. Maybe it was because he had not known who he was, but it was nice to be treated as an equal sometimes. Being saluted by people who were much older than him was often really awkward for Kurt; it was the protocol so he could not do anything about it. Also Devon's eyes; a wise man from the kingdom once said that even though they had the same eye color, each characteristic was different from one and another depends on their past experience and personality. Devon's eyes were darker than most people he met and he could see anger and sadness in it. It was not shown in his face when they talked, though, so he had been hiding it for a long time.

Despite all of that, he saw no fear in it; the accident at the festival yesterday proved that Kurt was right. When he saw him run straight to the angry beast, his heart skipped a beat. He would ran after him if he did not have to escort Mrs. Marple to saver place, and when he went back to the square the beast had died and Devon lie motionless beside it. He was the one who yelled at Sam to leave the beast and instead ushered him to the infirmary. Kurt could not tell how relieved he was that time to know that he was only unconscious instead of being dead as he thought earlier.

At least five people were dead because of that beast. If Devon was not there, he did not how many more would have been killed by it.

For the mean time, he pushed aside Devon and the beast from his mind and focused on his dad alone. Worry had not faded away as he passed through garden to the South Wing. Yesterday's accident kept him away from his usual visit and now guilt and anxious crawled all over him.

He could only hope that his condition did not worsen.

After what seemed to be a mile of walk, Kurt finally arrived at the South Tower. From there, one could get the best view of the entire kingdom. It was also his mother's favorite place and she was the one who picked it as their chamber. When she passed away, the King refused to be replaced even after he found a new Queen that also became his step mother. He made an excuse that the location was hidden and remote enough for safety issues but Kurt knew what the real reason behind it was.

After skipping countless steps as he climbed the stone stairs and reached the top of the tower, he could see the guards blocking the only door in that short lane. However, when they see him they quickly moved to each side and gave salute to the Prince. Kurt nodded and he pushed the door opened.

"Kurt! Thank McKinley you're alright!" his father's weak and full of anxious immediately greeted him as he closed the door. Kurt looked up to see his father had sat at the edge of the huge bed and almost tried to stand up if Kurt did not stride across the room to stop him.

"No dad, you need to lie down! You're still not well," Kurt said as he urged his father to lie back again.

"What about . . ."

"Sam has been handling it. Now lay back or I'll make you, dad. I'm serious," he threatened him when he still insisted to leave the bed.

The King glared at him but his son also gave him the same look. After a moment of silent battle between them, his father finally sighed and swung his leg back onto the bed.

"You're just like your mother," he grunted while Kurt busied himself arranging the blanket.

"I take that as a compliment, thank you," a hint of sarcasm showed in his words but he could not suppress a smile. However, the smile soon disappeared when he noticed his father's short breath and sweat drenched his night gown.

"How do you feel, Dad?" he asked in low voice as he finished tucking in the blanket around him and now sitting on the edge of the bed.

The King smiled tiredly. "Like a King who could not do anything for his people."

"Don't, Dad," Kurt said immediately. "Don't torture yourself. You're no God and most definitely not responsible for the entire calamity that occurred in McKinley."

His dad did not respond to that but from his look, Kurt knew that it still bothered him.

"Had you drunk your medicine?" Kurt tried to change the subject by checking on the table on his father's bed side to find all of his medicines were untouched.

"Dad," he sighed tiredly. "You suppose to . . . "

"Kurt, I don't have much time left."

Kurt's hand stopped mid air before he could reach for the silver cup.

"I'm sorry, kiddo, but . . ."

"I don't want to hear it, Dad," Kurt said with shaken voice without looking at him; still tried busying himself with the medicines.

"Kurt . . ."

Kurt suddenly slammed his hand onto the table and made things fell to the floor, but he could not care even less. All of the pressure that moment and the memories of his mother's last day rushed in and tears started to trickle down his face.

"Sorry. I just . . . I don't want to hear you giving up, Dad," he said in frustration, head bowed down and still did not have the courage to look at his dad. "Don't . . . Don't let them win now."

His whole body shook as he tried to hold his tears, but failed miserably in the end. His father's heart was indeed weakening each year but when few Dalton soldier managed to sneak into McKinley and almost killed Kurt, his condition decreased drastically. His Guardian, Adam, was one of the victims to lose their life before they were able to catch and execute few while the rest of them flew away cowardly. The guilt that ate him finally had its impact on his heart.

A hand landed on Kurt's back and rubbed it gently. "Kurt, look at me."

It was not an order nor plea, but a simple request from a father to his son.

Kurt slowly turned his head and finally met his father's eyes.

He broke down.

The King let the Prince wept on his chest as he continued to give him gentle rubs on his shaking back. Kurt grabbed his other hand and held it strongly as if it could slipped away if he did not. His new nightmare after his mom passed away would soon became a reality and he just could not accept it.

"Do you remember the big war between McKinley and Dalton few years ago?" his father suddenly asked him.

Kurt raised his messy face and looked confused. "Yes."

"Did I pulled us back even if it looked as if we were losing?"

" . . . No," he whispered.

"Or when your mom passed away; did I mourn all day long and abandoned our people?"

"No." Another tear dropped from Kurt's eyes when he realised where this was heading to.

"I never give up, Kurt," his father said in low voice. He put his hand to the back of Kurt's neck and gave him warm squeeze. "I'm simply accepting the fact."

Kurt bit his lips to prevent himself from crying again.

"Nothing last forever, kid, and that's okay. What's not okay is when you keep looking at the past and forget about the future. Now," his voice turned a bit harsh as Kurt saw tears also brimming from his eyes, "promise me that when it happens, you will move on like I did before and be a better leader for McKinley, okay?"

The words were like a gentle punch to his chest. He opened his mouth but no words came out from it.

"Your word, Kurt," his father pushed him again, this time with plea on his voice.

"I . . . I will, Dad," he was finally able to choke it out, along with another stream of tears following it.

His father opened his arms to embrace him and for a moment both of them said nothing, both were trying to memorize the precious moment just for themself.

Kurt promised to himself that he would tried his best to hold onto his words, but there was only one problem . . .

"I can't possibly replace you as a King," Kurt said suddenly.

The King frowned. "Why?"

"I'm gay," he stated it as a matter of fact.

Now his father looked confused. "I don't think there's a law that only straight person could become one."

"I mean I won't have an heir by birth," he sighed, but then looked at him with horror on his eyes. "You don't expect me to . . . ?"

"Wha- oh," a sudden realization crossed in his father's eyes and made him blushed. "No no, of course not. If you don't feel comfortable with it . . ."

"Comfortable? Can you picture me with a woman?"

They were looking at each other for three seconds before broke into loud laughter.

"Exactly," Kurt grinned as he wiped the tears away.

"Well, if it isn't you then who is it?"

"I always think Finn would make a good leader some day," he smiled a little on that thought.

"Finn?" His dad sounded unsure. "I'm not sure about that to be honest."

"Don't worry," Kurt waved off the doubt. "It's only a matter of time before he proposes Rachel; she also would be a great Queen for him and McKinley. Besides, I'm not going anywhere. I won't let him screw up on my watch," he added a dangerous glare to his left as if he could see his step brother there.

"Are you sure about this, Kurt? The throne is your right to claim and if the next heir is your main concern, you can just appoint someone else in the future," his father said, still looked concern about his decision.

Kurt smiled truthfully and said, "I know. I just feel like I don't qualify enough to do it and I don't want to jeopardize the kingdom."

The King sighed but in the end he nodded. "Well, you're wrong about that; but whatever your decision is," he grabbed his hand and squeezed it, "I will always be proud on you."

Kurt hugged him once more and gave a kiss on his forehead. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you more, kiddo."


Blaine arrived at the Noble Throne, which apparently was similar to what Dalton had as their Great Hall. The room was huge and all the ornaments and flags with McKinley emblem were dominated with gold and a bit of silver. Windows on the right side of the hall from where he came from were showing the garden and fountain in the middle of it. And on the opposite side from the door lie four majestic thrones and Kurt was leaning casually on the left one. His face brightened when he saw him coming.

"Devon! We're glad that you managed to heal quickly," Kurt approached him with the same warm smile that he gave him at the festival and infirmary.

As the soldier who guided him left the hall, he realised that they were indeed not alone. Other than Kurt, there were another five soldiers in the Noble Throne. He recognized Sam Evans, who stood not too far from the throne and also gave him a big smile when he saw him, and Santana Lopez who stood near one of the window with crossed arms and looked as if she was bored.

The other three then must be also the Generals of McKinley. A big guy with strange haircut and folded sleeves stood not too far from Santana. Another guy as bulky as the first one stood right beside Kurt earlier with a woman with long dark hair on his side.

The man with strange hair snorted as Blaine walked into everyone's attention. "This is a joke, right?"

"I imagine him to be . . . taller," the woman he did not know the name yet frowned in disappointment.

"Told you," Santana murmured loud enough that everyone could hear her.

Blaine gritted his teeth at the remark and kept his gaze forward while Kurt threw deadly glares to those two. When he reached exactly a meter from where Kurt stood, Blaine stopped walking and gave him a salute.

He was a prince. Remember the protocol.

Now it was Kurt's turn to frown. "What are you doing?"

Blaine arched an eyebrow and lowered his hand. "Giving a salute to you, my Lord." He gave extra pressure when he said his title to tell him that he already knew who he was.

"I take it back. I like this guy," the first man to speak grinned widely at his words.

"I know, right?" Sam said enthusiastically in agreement.

Again, Kurt ignored his generals and instead frowned deeper at Blaine. "Who told you?"

"Lady Mercedes."

Kurt sighed tiredly. "I knew it. I shouldn't leave you two alone that time." His gaze then turned fierce as he continued to speak to him. "That 'Sir' and 'My Lord' thing is still apply for you, though. As a Prince, I won't hesitate to send you back to patrol group if you call me with that one more time."

Blaine couldn't suppress a grin and let himself relaxed a bit. What an interesting man he was, he thought.

"Now that everyone greeted each other, can we please get into the business? I still had a bunch of new men to train and it will take a whole day," Santana retorted impatiently.

"Forgive my Generals, sometimes they can be a bit childish," Kurt muttered to Blaine only.

"I heard that!"

"Okay!" he yelled back at the woman before turning back to Blaine. "I'd like you to be my Guardian."

Blaine blinked twice, trying to process the word but failed. "Your what?"

"Guardian," Kurt explained it to him patiently. "You're to be released from your daily tasks at your current rank and will be given a new one as my guardian."

"Babysitting, in other word," Santana added with a big grin on her face.

"I'm pretty impressed on what you did at the festival and I think you're more than qualified to be my new Guardian," Kurt continued, ignoring Santana completely.

A Guardian. If he accepted the position, he could be around Kurt as much as he liked to. Killing Kurt was not an impossible task anymore. He could bring few Generals down on the process, too.

However, when his eyes met with Kurt's once again, all the thoughts melt away from his mind and replaced with guilt and shame. Since when did he start to think like a cold blooded murderer? Did he really want to add more blood on his already red hands?

He was a McKinley, Blaine! He yelled the words to himself. He was an enemy, nothing more.

He was also a human being!

"Forget it, Kurt," the man with strange hair said sharply and brought him back to reality. "He looks scared already."

"No," Blaine stuttered with his words, still trying to make up his mind. "I'm not . . ."

"This is not an easy task, Devon," said the man beside the throne for the first time. "The previous Guardian died when Dalton attacked us and we need you to commit to the kingdom as much as him."

Blaine's head snapped at that. "Dalton attacked McKinley?"

The man frowned. "Where have you been? It was chaos in here few days ago!"

Why were they kept telling lies? They were the one who attacked us! Suddenly, Blaine's head felt as if a stick protruded from it.

"You're just overrated, Finn," the man with strange hair said, rolling his eyes. "They only sent a bunch of morons as usual. It was Adam's fault to get killed in the first place. I even managed to fry their leader so it's really not that much of them."

Fry.

Wes' injury.

Blaine's palms turned into tight fists. "You are the one who burned their leader alive?"

The man chuckled proudly. "Now you remember. Too bad he managed to escape; I was about to make a stronger warning for those Daltons but I guess that'll do."

With that, the conflict that he had inside his head was over. No one could hurt his friends, especially Dalton's enemies.

"I accept the position," Blaine said to Kurt, without any hesitation in his voice this time.

Kurt, however, did not seem happy with his answer and instead looked worried. "Are you okay? I'm not going to force you if . . . "

"I said I accept it," he snapped impatiently. A small part of him regretted it immediately when he saw Kurt looked hurt after that. "Sorry, I do want to accept it," he added, gentler this time.

"O-okay then, great" he said with a nervous smile, still look unsure of him but did not say anything.

"Well, that's a start," the woman behind Kurt shrugged. "Now, if you can defeat one of us then the position is yours."

"Do we really need to do this now, Rachel? He was just out of the infirmary this morning," Kurt turned to her with a hint of pleading on his voice but Blaine quickly took over the conversation.

"It's fine, Kurt. I can do it."

"Great. Pick your opponent; I'll choose Evans if I were you. You'll secure that position in no time."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Trouty Mouth."

Blaine took less than a second to decide who would be his opponent. He turned to the man with strange hair and glared viciously at him. "You, Sir."

Blaine ignored Kurt's sharp gasp and instead focused on the General whose lips formed a wide grin.

"Either you're stupid or really brave; you got balls for challenging me, kid."

"You may want to choose another candidate, Kurt," Santana suggested as the man stepped forward to the middle of the hall.

He did not pay attention to Kurt when he talked to him in alerting tone before stepping back to give them some space. Blaine really did not care who he was or what he was capable of. He only thought of Wes and that was more than enough to beat this snobbish General.

Without another word, Blaine pulled out his McKinley sword and ran straight to his opponent.


Thanks for reading and don't forget to review! I'll try to update as soon as I can.