Cinder was woken the next morning by the sound of Oliver barging into his room.

"What," he snapped, shooting upright and glaring at him, sleepy and startled. "Is the house on fire?"

"Not that," Oliver answered, "but we have an emergency on our hands. I'll explain after I wake up Gem." And he was off again.

Very reassuring, Cinder thought, rubbing his eyes and searching for something proper to throw on. Oliver wasn't exactly the type to start a panic over nothing. And he wasn't the type to barge into people's rooms and not immediately say what was going on either.

Thankfully, moments later, Oliver returned with a sleepy Gem in tow. He shut the door behind them, then locked it, and closed all the curtains to make sure they were cut off from everyone outside.

Yawning, Gem plopped down on the nearest suitable surface, which happened to be Cinder's bed. "What's wrong, Olly?" he groaned.

"Father hasn't given up yet." Oliver furrowed his brow, leaning against the door, his voice urgent and cautiously low. "I bumped into a messenger from the palace this morning, but he didn't recognize me. Do you know what that means?" His face darkened. "We're wanted men now. If we set foot outside that door, we'll be caught and dragged to the palace in no time."

Cinder frowned. He should be glad their adventure was cut short, but what he felt was the opposite. And not because of the very real possibility that he might be executed for his behavior towards Gem.

"Are you sure they're here for us?" he asked. "They could be here for anything."

Oliver shook his head. "I took a look at the poster the messenger was putting up," he said. "It was basically a wanted poster. They're offering a huge reward to anyone who lets the king know where we are."

Cinder's eyes flitted over to Gem, wondering what he was thinking of his father's actions. But if the prince felt betrayed, he didn't let it show; he only looked wide awake all of a sudden. "But we can't let them take us!"

Oliver sighed. "I don't know what they're thinking," he said. "I told them it was a bad idea."

"Anyway, what do we do now?" Cinder piped in. "I take it we can't leave like this."

"No…no, we can't," Oliver answered, shaking his head. "But staying isn't safe either. The guards will know where we're staying."

"So we have to leave unrecognized," Cinder concluded, "and shake off the guards." He crossed his arms. "Like it's nothing."

Gem looked up. "You have any ideas, Olly?"

A smirk grew all over Oliver's face.

"You could say that," he said. "After all, right here you've got an expert in makeup and costuming with you."

Cinder sensed the danger, but didn't yet protest. Oliver eyed him closely. "You and I are almost the same size," he said. "It'll be easy enough to disguise you. That just leaves Gem."

"What are you up to?" Cinder asked.

Oliver smirked.

"We're switching roles," he said. "Gem and I, we're turning into servants. And you…" He took a step towards Cinder. "You're turning into a nobleman."

~ ~ ~

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Cinder asked as he sat in Oliver's room a moment later, feeling extremely like an intruder. "If anyone finds out I'm a fake, I'm as good as dead."

"Nobody will notice," Oliver said flippantly, searching through his pack, glancing back and forth between clothes, makeup, and Cinder on his chair. "The good thing about being noble is that you can act however you want and no one can stop you. At least, almost no one."

Who can? Cinder wanted to ask, but deep down he already knew the answer.

"They'll notice if I act too much like a commoner," he said. "And what about a name? They'll realize there is no nobleman with my name."

"Oh, that's easy. Just be open about it being an alias," Oliver answered. "Pretend you're on some top-secret mission and nobody will ask questions. I promise, I've been there."

"Is that so," Cinder muttered. He still had a very bad feeling about the whole thing.

"I'll have you wearing my knight uniform," Oliver said, holding it up. "You can never go wrong with that one—no family crests on it or anything. I'll borrow your clothes in return if you don't mind."

"Be my guest," Cinder answered, slowly growing resigned. He had no idea what was happening to him anymore, might as well go with it and see.

Oliver tossed him the uniform. "There we go," he said, "that one should fit you. Then I'll just have to do something about your face and hair."

Cinder narrowed his eyes. "You're not planning to cut off my hair, are you?"

"What? No, no!" Oliver was already rummaging through his makeup kit. "Just making sure it looks better groomed. We're making you look older too," he added. "Your voice is deep enough to get away with it."

Cinder cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious about his voice. "Do I sound that old?"

"Adult enough," said Oliver. "One moment, hold still—no, this shade it is. The other one was too light for you. Ready?"

Looking down along himself, Cinder shrugged. The uniform did fit him like a glove, though he still felt like an intruder in it. Oliver, meanwhile, seemed to have no qualms whatsoever about wearing his patched-up old clothes.

"Why, it fits you better than me!" he said with a glint of envy in his voice. "I have to pad my shoulders and bind my chest to make it look like that. Then again, I guess that's natural." He paced around Cinder, then lifted his face and angled it towards him. "Some people would say my body's made for dresses, not men's clothes. But even as Olive I don't like wearing dresses."

Cinder raised his eyebrows; that attitude was the complete opposite of Hestia and his stepsisters. "Why not?"

"You know, they're beautiful, but they're also a hassle." Oliver picked up a comb and began to untangle Cinder's hair. "You need the help of maids to get in or out of them, and I'd rather dress and undress myself. Besides, as a bodyguard, I can't fight that well in a big hoop skirt."

Cinder nodded slightly. "Makes sense."

"Not that I don't respect ladies in fancy dresses," Oliver added as an afterthought, laughing. "My fiancée loves them, so I can't say anything bad about them anyway."

Blinking, Cinder looked up at the knight in surprise. "You have a fiancée?"

"Yes! Lady Diamond Coldstone, the most beautiful woman on earth." Oliver smiled. "She's not a high-ranking noble, but that's part of why I like her. She's not part of this…this stiff high nobility."

"Like Gem," Cinder answered.

"Like a lot of people around him, too. Sir Hector, the man you saw that day—" Oliver cut himself off. "It's a long story," he said. "My point is, a lot of people around the king are very…stuck in old traditions."

Cinder squinted at him. There was something Oliver wasn't telling him—something about Gem, most likely. Once more he thought about their talk about the ball the other day, Oliver's refusal to explain all the loose ends that didn't add up. Gem's knight wasn't the same as all the other people around the prince, but he definitely wasn't being fully honest either.

Hypocrite, a voice said in his head. Why do you judge anyone for not telling him things when you refuse to tell him so much yourself?

And not just the things about his past, he realized, but things that concerned Gem too. Things like his double identity. He'd had his reasons for hiding that, of course. He still did. But it still bothered him that the person closest to Gem, his bodyguard and older sibling, would have secrets from him.

Gem already didn't have a lot of people close to him. The last thing he deserved was to be betrayed by those he trusted.

"Now that he's not here," Cinder said, "won't you tell me what's up with the ball?"

Oliver stopped in the middle of his work. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Cinder held his gaze. "Why would the king let him invite commoners to his ball to marry and then interfere like this? You know as well as I do that it doesn't make sense!"

Dropping his hands, Oliver lowered his gaze, visibly struggling with himself.

"I think it's wrong too," he said. "The thing is…our father has never actually been in favor of him marrying a commoner. Not then, not now."

Cinder tensed. "But—"

"The ball was all his idea," Oliver continued. "He saw how well Gem got along with the palace servants and how much he went on about marrying a normal person and not caring about titles. And he didn't like it. So…he invited nobles and commoners hoping that Gem would see them side by side and realize the difference."

Cinder sat up straight.

"He tried to manipulate his own son?"

"I tried to stop him when I found out," Oliver protested. "But he didn't listen to me!"

"And you never once thought of telling Gem?"

Oliver closed his eyes.

"You never once thought that this might be something he deserves to know?"

Cinder didn't know why he was so angry, but here he was, filled with sympathy for Gem and nothing but fury. Gem didn't deserve any of this. Not a single thing.

"Gem trusts our father," Oliver replied, squirming under his gaze. "And he already doesn't have a lot of people he trusts. I thought…if I was responsible for that trust breaking…"

"So you went and broke his trust too?"

Cinder's hands were shaking at his sides. He clenched them tighter and tighter until his knuckles were white. "You lied to him along with your father!" he burst out. "Now he truly has nobody left he can trust! Good job, leaving him all alone in the world like that!"

"I'm sorry, all right?"

Oliver's face was pained, and suddenly Cinder's anger faded. "You're right," the knight said. "I should've told him. I guess…I just didn't have the heart to break the news to him."

Cinder relaxed in his chair. Oliver might have messed up, but his regret seemed genuine. "You should tell him," he said. "Otherwise he'll figure things out himself sooner or later. You don't want him to stop trusting you after he does, do you?"

"…You're right."

Sighing, Oliver got back to work, clearly shaken. Cinder understood him. It wouldn't be easy, coming clean like that. Gem might be upset. They might get angry at each other and fight. But he was also glad: glad that after being so alone in the world, Gem wouldn't have to lose yet another person he trusted.

Look at you, caring about him. What happened to minding your own business?

Cinder pushed down the mocking little voice. He had always cared about right and wrong, justice and injustice. Years of witnessing wrongs had made him jaded, but his righteous core was still there, in the exact spot where his father had planted it from childhood.

Besides, he knew the feeling of betrayal. He knew how it felt to be stabbed in the back by people he had once trusted. And he would never wish it on anyone else.

Especially not Gem.

Gemstone Crystalline deserved a lot of things, but such heartbreak wasn't one of them.

And yet you might easily be responsible for his next one.

Cinder chose not to think about that.

He'd find a way to deal with it, sooner or later.

~ ~ ~

"And done!"

Patting off his hands, Oliver stepped away, admiring his work. "You'd fool anyone," he said cheerily. "Now let's call you…" He paused, thinking. "Sir Obsidian! What do you think?"

Cinder hesitated. Rising to his feet, he followed Oliver to a large mirror, staring in disbelief at his reflection. The person staring back at him was unfamiliar. He looked several years older, an elegant young gentleman in black and white and silver, his hair pulled back and braided out of his face. Oliver was right; he did look like a nobleman. No one who didn't know him well would recognize him.

There was just one catch.

He did look like a nobleman…but he also looked suspiciously like someone else.

But without the mask, Gem wouldn't possibly make the connection between the two…

…right?