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Masquerades were stupid. Castiel hated them. Thanks to having to wear the stupid mask, people felt free to say what they really thought about things, instead of what they felt they ought to say. It’s how Castiel knew that he only had two real friends, despite the number of people clamoring for his attention and eager to spend time with him. Those were all political, people wanting a prince’s favor. How it never occurred to them that it might be Castiel behind the mask they were telling about how boring or awkward Castiel was, he never did understand.
This masquerade, at least, that wouldn’t happen. Castiel wouldn’t be wearing a mask, so everyone would know who he was. He wouldn’t know who they were, but they were unlikely to say anything about him that they wouldn’t ordinarily say. Just in case they were asked to unmask at some point in the night. At least one person would be.
The purpose of this masquerade was to allow Castiel the chance to choose his own partner or partners. Everyone in attendance had status, money, or both – enough to qualify them to marry a prince. Every one of them had been personally vetted by his father and would be an asset to the kingdom. Naturally, Chuck would have his favorites, who he’d have tried to give a leg up in the competition, but it would be Castiel’s choice.
The two people Castiel felt were truly his friends wouldn’t be here. Sam and Dean were brothers. Their mother had been a respectable landowner’s only child, with enough money to send her sons through school or knighthood training. Their father, on the other hand, had been a common craftsman. After their house burned down with Mary still inside, John went crazy and became a vigilante outlaw. Dean was a knight now, but that alone wouldn’t give him the standing to be here. Sam was the keeper of the royal library – an important job, but not one that would get him into this masquerade. Castiel would have much rather married either of them than anyone in this room, but duty called.
Of course, his awkwardness made mingling difficult. His prospective mates were not allowed to tell him where they were from or who their family was, which left very little small talk. Court gossip was out, because it could give away too much. There was only so much you could say about the weather before the topic was exhausted, and Castiel’s taste in books was very different from most people’s, it seemed. There was one man who could keep up in a conversation about books, and Castiel rather liked him. A marriage founded on common taste in books was better than nothing. A few others could talk reasonably intelligently about politics or economics or military tactics. Most of the room? Weather.
Then he ran into a woman who greeted him with, “This has to be the stupidest way to pick your mate ever. What advice do they give you before throwing you out here to flounder around?”
“My father basically told me to suck it up, get out here, and talk to as many people as I could before the end of the night. Then, based on these five-minute conversations, I was to choose who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” No need to hide the sarcasm. She got it. “My oldest brothers were told they had to pick a woman, although they could pick a man as well if they wished. By the time it gets to me, any children I have are as much a nuisance as a benefit. Young princes and princesses who must be provided for and kept from challenging Michael’s children or any of the others ahead of them for the throne. Why, do you have advice for me?”
“Yeah. See the tall guy over there in the devil mask?” She pointed out the man Castiel was able to talk books with. “He’s brilliant, good-hearted, and head over heels in love with you. Pick him. If you want a woman too, can’t help you there, the ladies here are all so fake and stupid.”
Castiel intended to take the recommendation with as much salt as he could find, but she was encouraging him to pick the one person he thought he might enjoy picking. Well. If they were going based on five minutes, she was easily talking herself into the picture. “Does that include you?”
“No, but really, anything I say about myself is pretty much useless to you. How’re you supposed to believe a word I say, given the circumstances? If I talk myself up, I’m hoping to get picked. If I put myself down, I’m hoping not to. Either way, I’m not necessarily saying anything true.”
Castiel bit his lip to hold back the grin. “Answer this one question honestly, because I will be basing my actions on it. Do you want to be picked or not?”
Even the mask couldn’t hide her surprise at Castiel’s implications. “I’m not exactly gonna go home and cry myself to sleep if you don’t pick me, but I’d like to be picked, yeah. Not like him, I’m not in love with you, but I’m ambitious and being your wife would get me where I wanna be.”
“Fair enough. Thank you.” Castiel headed off to think it over. There weren’t many people left for him to talk to, giving him plenty of time to think. There were two clear frontrunners, and since one was male and the other was female, he could pick both if he wanted to. She clearly didn’t mind sharing, if she was advising him to pick the man. Would he mind? There were two ways to find out, and one of them got him the information a little too late.
Castiel made his way over to the tall devil. “What do you think of this process?”
“I, uh, not really my place to criticize it, is it? I don’t know that it’s any better than a more straightforward arranged marriage, this really doesn’t give you much time to get to know anyone here, but it’s how it’s done. At least it does give you a chance, I guess? Why do you ask?”
“Well, for one thing, I was curious what you’d say.” It was hardly a surprise. “I suppose I was more asking what you thought of the potential results of this process.”
“Well, I’m not exactly sitting here expecting to be picked, and if I am, a good chance I wouldn’t be the only one. You’re not Michael, you don’t have that pressure, but two spouses means two chances at an alliance or injection of money. I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t accept that I might be sharing you.”
An excellent point, one Castiel was glad to hear. “Thank you. I know I’m not supposed to tell you this, but as I’m headed for Father to tell him, I don’t see the point in not. I’m choosing you, unless you ask me not to.”
“Oh, uh, that’s great! Thanks!” Castiel couldn’t tell, but he thought his new almost-fiancé was blushing behind the mask. “I’ll just… wait for the announcement, then.”
Castiel’s father sent him to a room to wait. Unmasking would be done privately, so that if someone wanted to back out, they had the opportunity without causing too much scandal or shame. “Who’s going first?” the lady asked when she and the man had arrived and the door shut.
“You go ahead,” the guy said. “I’m gonna be… Prince Castiel’s going to want an explanation.”
“All right.” She reached up and undid the tie holding her mask on. “Hi. Meg, princess of Saphon. You marry me, the war between our kingdoms ends, and you guys can focus on your bigger enemy while my people can rebuild.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Castiel stepped forward and kissed Meg on the cheek before turning to his other choice. “And you? What explanation will I want?” The man took off his mask, and Castiel had his answer. “Sam? But how…?” It didn’t matter, as Castiel stepped to him and stretched up to kiss his cheek as well.
Sam ducked his head, blushing a little. “So get this. All my life, I’d been told that Dad was a common craftsman, a great cartwright before he went nuts but certainly no one with the kind of status that would get me in here. Two weeks ago, a messenger from Kansas showed up.”
“Kansas?” Castiel’s brow furrowed. From what he’d heard, Kansas was in a bit of chaos right now. An assassin had taken out all known members of the royal family.
“Kansas. They can’t be sure that by normal laws of inheritance Dean should be king, but with the chaos happening out there, no one cares. Turns out, John’s father Henry was the last king’s cousin, and any closer relatives to the last king are either dead or lost.” Sam looked up, smiling. “That by itself would be enough to get me in, given that your father knows you like me, but Dean’s accepted the throne. I’m currently first in line. Dean was all for me coming to you and asking you to marry me without all this, but I had faith that you’d pick me, and if you picked a woman too, there was even a possibility of me providing legitimate princes of Kansas.” Sam turned to Meg. “If you’d be willing to marry both me and Castiel, of course. Dean’s likely to have his own children, but Kansas has good reason to believe there’s no such thing as too many princes and princesses around.”
“Sounds good to me. Saphon’s not exactly worried about Kansas, but this way that doesn’t change if Dean can get Kansas’s shit sorted out. Castiel? It’s not what you had in mind when you picked us.”
Castiel shook his head. “No. It’s better. Sam, do you think Dean would have a problem with us living there? I know Father won’t mind me leaving.”
A short laugh burst out of Sam. “No, Cas, I really don’t think Dean’s going to mind having his brother and his best friend close. It does mean I’ll have to leave my post as your father’s librarian, but I was gonna do that anyway if you didn’t pick me. Meg?”
Meg shrugged. “Long as no one gets any bright ideas about going to Saphon, I don’t care where we live.”
“Well then. It’s all settled, in the best possible way, and we can go announce it.” Castiel started out, but stopped and turned back to Sam, head tilted. “Dean wasn’t out there, was he?”
“No. It’s not personal, I swear, but he’s not into you at all. Not really into guys at all. Between that, the extra scrutiny on him because his kids are the more likely heirs, and the awkward that would’ve resulted in you picking him over me… why take the risk?”
Castiel breathed a quick sigh of relief. “Good. I’m glad I didn’t just dismiss him as another boring suitor who would make me miserable.”