Kurt stepped up to the mirror, long thick heavy robes trailing behind him. The perfect silver surface shimmered before turning moten, a face appearing in it.
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,” Kurt crooned. “Who is fairest of them all.”
Twin silver lips parted. “It is no longer yourself, my king, who holds that title.”
Kurt froze, his expression hardening. “Then who?” he whispered dangerously.
“A girl fair of form, a face as bright as day, with hair like spun gold, her name Quinn Fabray.”
Kurt turned from the mirror and marched out of his chambers, closing the door with a slam. “Finn!” he snapped, and his bumbling brother woke up from his guard post.
“Yes, my king?” Finn stammered.
“Bring me the huntsman.”
“And what would you have me do?” Blaine murmured.
Kurt stroked a hand through Blaine’s curls contemplatively. “Take her out into the woods. Carve out her heart and bring it to me.”
Blaine arched an eyebrow. “There are rumors in the kingdom that she doesn’t even have one.”
“She does,” Kurt sighed, stroking Blaine’s jaw. “Trust me. You do trust me, don’t you Blaine?”
“Of course, my king,” Blaine whispered, leaning into Kurt’s touch. “So the heart of Quinn Fabray—that is what you require?”
“Yes,” Kurt murmured, his nose touching Blaine’s. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
“As you wish, my king.” Blaine sealed it with a kiss.