Shut Up, Cinderella

Drawers and Chairs

Gem woke up long before the sunrise the next morning and long, long before anyone else was awake.

Of course he did. He was excited. Not for a trip with Cinder the shoemaker, obviously. That was the part he was least excited about; the more time he spent with Cinder, the less he liked him. In his opinion it really said something about the power of his love that he enlisted this guy's help anyway, choosing his usefulness over his near-unbearable levels of annoyance.

Although, he thought as he gulped down his breakfast in the least princely manner possible, deep down he couldn't help hoping that it wouldn't be as bad as it had seemed at first. Even Cinder, deep down, had to have some spark of humanity within him. Gem thought he had caught a glimpse of it yesterday: something beyond snark and disrespect, something that, if he understood it, he might actually be able to work with.

Not that he cared. Cinder the shoemaker was skilled, but otherwise beneath his notice. He wasn't worth caring about, and he wasn't even nice. Gem couldn't stand him. The sooner they found his beloved and parted ways forever, the better for both of them.

By the time his carriage arrived at the shoemaker's shop, the sun had barely risen. Layers upon layers of fresh snow glistened in the pink rays, catching the light and glittering softly. The carriage had nearly got stuck on the road several times, but to Gem it was worth it. For such a sight he'd risk every delay and every broken carriage.

"It's so early," Olive said around a yawn, plodding beside him through the snow. "Shouldn't we wait? It's rude to show up that early in the morning."

"It's not early, the sun just rises late," Gem answered. "It's winter. It happens." He motioned for her to follow. "Let's go."

Olive groaned. She had already slept in the carriage, but she still looked tired. Which didn't mean she was off her guard. On the contrary; Gem had learned the hard way that she became more sensitive to movement and noise when she hadn't slept enough.

In this town, though, nothing was moving yet. Even the animals were barely awake. The very wind itself, which had been blowing with full power last night, had calmed down as if it, too, was sleeping.

Knocking on the door, Gem waited for someone to open. The house was so small and low, he thought. He needed to lower his head to get through this door. Was this how commoners lived normally? Why didn't they build higher doors and ceilings?

The door opened, and a maid was staring at him. She wasn't what one usually pictured when thinking of a maid. She was aged and haggard, her worn-out clothing loose on her thin body; and she was obviously frightened to see him here.

"Y-Your Highness!" she spluttered, backing away. "Oh dear, oh dear, we wasn't expecting you so early...Do come in, sir, no need to stand there, in the cold, sir, in this weather an' all...I'll call the lady of the house, make yourselves comfortable, Your Highness...and my lady, too, you can tell me all your wishes, ya can...jus' a moment!" She took their coats and hung them up as best as she could, then ran off, looking flustered. On her way she adjusted her hair and clothes, muttering something about looking presentable.

Gem stared after her. "Is she all right?"

"You surprised her," Olive answered. "Most people don't take well to getting surprised by a prince."

He shrugged. "It's not like I'm gonna kill her for wearing old clothes."

"It's about the impression, you nerd. She thinks it's improper to look less than perfect around royalty."

"That's dumb. She was working." Gem idly trailed his fingers along the heavy wooden drawer beside him. "How she treats us is more important."

"That's a pretty different attitude from what you said to Cinder."