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."

"No, it's not! He wasn't treating me with respect. This lady was." He shrugged again. "I never said anything about their clothes."

The door opened, and Hestia hurried to greet them. "Your Highness!" she exclaimed, curtseying. "My lady! Pardon the wait, we weren't expecting you so early…Would you like to join us at the breakfast table?"

Gem exchanged a glance with Olive, who nodded. "That'd be nice," he said. "Thank you."

Hestia smiled. "I'll tell the maid. For now, why don't you go sit down in the drawing-room? You must be tired from the journey here, so early in the morning."

Moments later they were both sitting in a room that seemed too big for the small family living in this house. There were several large chairs, of the same make as the drawer, a shelf filled with old books, and yet another drawer, older than the rest of the furniture. Gem trailed his fingers along its shape. It didn't seem like it had been dusted in some time. Indeed this room looked like barely anyone had been in it in a long time.

That was weird. Why have this room and not use it?

Partly out of boredom, partly out of curiosity, Gem opened the first drawer. There was nothing interesting in it; only embroideries, the girls' work most likely, dusty and old, raw and unrefined. He opened the next drawer. More needlework. In the next one was a sewing kit. Gem noted the colorful threads were running low, even if none of the embroideries he had seen had been very colorful.

He opened the lowest drawer and paused.

In this one there was no needlework, nor thread, nor even a single needle. Instead it was filled to the brim with paper. He leaned closer, intrigued.

Envelopes and…letters?

"Don't touch that."

He jumped. Cinder had appeared in the doorway seemingly out of nowhere.

"Stay away from that drawer," he said, his voice low but trembling with barely-suppressed fury. "Has nobody ever taught you not to go snooping around in other people's houses?"

Gem pushed the drawer shut. For some reason he felt like he had been caught doing something forbidden.

"I wasn't snooping," he said weakly.

The muscles in Cinder's jaw worked, but he made no comment. "Breakfast is ready," he said instead. "If Your Royal Annoyance and Lady Olive would be so kind as to join us." His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he turned around and walked out of the room, motioning for them to follow.

"Why's he respectful to you and not me?" Gem asked Olive in an undertone.

"Because I'm nice to him," she answered, looking amused, "and you're not."

"I am nice. Nicer than he deserves."

"Keep telling yourself that."

They followed Cinder into a small dining-room. It didn't consist of much except a rustic table and a handful of chairs, barely enough for all of them to sit. One of them didn't match the others. They must have dug it up somewhere to have enough to accommodate him and Olive.

"Do sit down at the head of the table, Your Highness," Hestia said, gesturing to one of the chairs. "No one has sat there in some time, the chair will be glad to be useful again."

Gem moved to take the indicated seat, then he stopped. His eyes met with Cinder's. There was a shadow on the shoemaker's face, an emotion in his coal-black gaze that gave him pause. It wasn't the usual anger or annoyance. It was something deeper. Bitterness, resentment…no…

Pain?

Gem stepped back. "On second thought, I'll just stand," he said without understanding why. "I already ate anyway."

"Well…if you insist," Hestia replied, visibly puzzled. Gem didn't mind her confusion. His eyes searched for Cinder's again, but the shoemaker looked away.

Their hosts took their breakfast, but no one spoke. A heavy silence hung in the room. The maid hovered awkwardly in the doorway, now better dressed, hoping for a request, but no one seemed to want anything. Hestia and her daughters were obviously too intimidated to start a conversation in front of the prince; Cinder straight-up didn't seem to care.

Finally Olive sat with them and spoke up. "And is it alright that we borrow your breadwinner for some days?"

"Oh! Of course," Hestia exclaimed. "You're paying him after all, and we're all so glad to be of service to His Royal Highness himself." She smiled at Gem. "And there could be no safer place for him to be than with the prince and his bodyguard, could there?"

Olive laughed. "I don't think anything would happen to him on the trip either way."

"But he's still safer with a lady knight like you beside him," one of the girls gushed, Izetta or Marietta—the younger, blonde one, Gem kept forgetting which was which. Her sister shot her a warning glare, but she kept going. "Is it very hard, becoming a knight?"

Olive smiled at her, one of those smiles that left blushing, stuttering victims everywhere in their wake. "It's hard work, of course," she said. "But I don't think it's harder or easier than any other profession, if you're trying to be good."

The sisters stared at her, starry-eyed, and begun to chatter with her in excitement. Gem smirked to himself. Classic Olly. She always had that effect on girls.

Soon enough the room was lively again, filled with conversation. Sometimes Gem joined in, but he found he wasn't feeling too chatty right now. Cinder remained completely silent. Every so often his stepsisters or Hestia tried to include him in the conversation, but he only ever said the bare minimum and continued eating.

"Alright," he said at last, rising from his chair. "We should get going. Day's not getting any longer as we speak."

"I'll get the carriage," said Gem.

Cinder shook his head. "Don't bother. On most of the roads here a carriage would just break down." He looked outside. "Especially in this weather."

"But!" Gem began to protest.

"It's useless," Cinder insisted. "It's slower if we walk, but we can take more shortcuts. I know my way around here."

Gem wanted to protest again, then he thought it over. It was beautiful outside. Cold, sure, but beautiful all the same. When else would he get a chance for an extended walk through the snowy countryside?

"Fine," he said. "As long as Olly carries my stuff."

Olly made a face at him. "Carry it yourself, you ass."

"Then Cinder carries it!"

"No way! I have my own baggage!" Cinder grabbed a small pack and strode towards the entrance to reach for his coat. "Your Royal Brattiness can carry it yourself like the rest of us!"

"I don't have to! I'm a prince! Princes don't carry their own stuff!"

"Why not?" Cinder gave him a challenging look. "Are you not strong enough?"

Oh, bullseye.

"Damn right I am!" Gem burst out, snatching his pack. "I'm gonna carry it all by myself! Just you watch me!"

Cinder snorted and turned away, even as Gem was left with the dawning feeling that he had been played like a fiddle.

But hey, he thought, at least it was nice outside. Really nice.

Too bad Cinder the shoemaker was the very last person he wanted to enjoy it with.