Gem kept his promise.
Several more times he snuck in to visit again at night—through the door this time, to Cinder's relief—and after a few days he came waltzing in during the day again, proudly declaring that his father had ended his house arrest after he had convinced him he wouldn't go searching for the masked stranger anymore. They spent hours and hours goofing around or just talking, about anything and everything, until one of them finally realized it was time to part ways.
Cinder still hadn't told him the truth. He meant to, but it was hard to do now that his original momentum had been lost. It never seemed like the right moment for it either. Or maybe there would have been plenty of right moments, and Cinder was simply a coward who couldn't work up the courage and risk ruining what they had.
He'd do it soon, he kept promising himself, at the nearest opportunity. How exactly that opportunity looked like, he didn't know. He just kept telling himself that if it came, he would recognize it.
Hopefully.
Although, he had to admit, it didn't exactly get easier with every day that passed.
He still hadn't figured out his feelings towards Gem either. Something told him that he should have, but the more he thought about it, the less certain he was. He was happy when he was with Gem, sure. He felt warm and content, like his world was brighter and more colorful than it had ever been without him. If there was a way for him to spend all his time around him, he would take it. And all that did sound like love. But if that was the case, what made it different from strong friendship? How could he tell if he liked Gem as a close friend or a lover?
Cinder still hadn't resolved the question when, one morning, the door to his workshop opened.
He more than half expected Gem to walk in, but the person entering wasn't the prince. Instead it was another descendant of the king he knew all too well.
"Oliver," he greeted him, immediately peeking behind the knight to see if he had Gem in tow. Oliver, however, seemed to be alone.
"Hello, Cinder," Gem's suspended bodyguard greeted him. "Long time no see."
Cinder gave a brief nod. "What brings you here?"
Oliver smiled innocently. "What," he answered, "can't I come to visit a friend?"
Cinder lifted an eyebrow.
"Alright, alright," the knight continued, laughing. "I came here as a customer. I need a new pair of riding boots."
"I'm sure there are plenty of shoemakers who are better at making those," Cinder remarked. He still couldn't shake the feeling that Oliver was up to something. No matter if female or male, the knight was too full of tricks to completely trust them.
"I wouldn't be so humble, it's bad for business," Oliver replied, laughing. "I might just end up listening to you, and then you'll miss out on the pay—"
"Fine! Fine! I'll do it," Cinder exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "But only if you tell me why you're actually here."
Oliver eyed him closely, and for a moment Cinder feared he might bring out another obvious excuse. Then he sobered up, sitting down on the small stool with a sigh. "You haven't heard anything from Gem, have you?"
Oh. Of course.
"I have," Cinder replied as Oliver took off his boots for him to inspect in detail. "We made up the other day. He's been visiting often since."
Oliver gave a sigh of relief. "So he's out of house arrest?"
"Yeah." Cinder gave him a glance. "You still can't contact him?"
The knight made a face. "The house arrest was because of him going after that guy," he said. "The me not contacting him is because our father thinks I've been a bad influence. So, no."
"Bad influence?" Cinder gave him a sidelong glance. "What, because you're too full of schemes?"
Oliver laughed out loud. "Who taught you to have a sense of humor?" he asked. "Whoever did it made a huge mistake!"
Cinder just continued to look at him, and Oliver became serious once more. "Alright, no," he admitted. "He thinks my views are too modern and I've made Gem go against the traditions he'd like him to keep." He rolled his eyes. "Blaming me for Gem wanting to do reforms and all that."
Cinder frowned. "I don't think that's on you," he said.
"I don't either," Oliver answered. "But you know how people are. Always looking for a scapegoat."
Cinder looked down. Abruptly he was reminded of when he himself had been the same, unjustly blaming his step-family for something that was clearly other people's fault.
"And there's no way to change his mind?" he asked. "King or not, he can't keep his kids separated forever."
Oliver grimaced. "It's obvious you've never met him."
"That stubborn?"
"They say he's made of solid rock for a reason." The knight stretched out his legs, sighing. "I don't think anyone has ever changed his mind about anything."
Cinder scowled. "That's ridiculous."
"Tell me about it. And I know I probably shouldn't talk like this about the man I was born from," Oliver added, "but it's not like I see him as my father. Gem's my brother, but my father is the one who raised me and not that man."
Suddenly Marietta's voice sounded in Cinder's ears again. You're my brother!
By that same logic...would his mother be Hestia?
He dismissed the thought. Hestia didn't feel like a mother to him. He had never had anyone he considered a mother figure; his father had been enough. Not everyone had to feel the way Oliver or Marietta did.
"But you still call him Father," he pointed out.
"Only in front of Gem," Oliver replied. "He's our father, but not my father. Does that make sense?"
"No."
"Alright then."
There was a pause. Cinder continued his work. Oliver let his gaze roam around the room, observing the different tools and materials.
"How's Gem?" he finally asked.
Cinder looked up. "Fine," he answered. "Not going after that stranger from the ball anymore. Still an idiot, though." He cracked a small smirk. "The other night he tried to climb in through my window from a tree."
Oliver groaned. "That idiot...I knew they can't let him run around unsupervised!"
Something about the comment gave Cinder pause. He put down his tools.
"It was one time," he said. "And he hasn't done anything dangerous since. That I know of," he added awkwardly.
"Still, he's a kid." Oliver still looked worried. "You look away from him for one moment, and suddenly he's landed himself in trouble again. It was like that when he was six, and it's still the same now."
"He's impulsive," Cinder admitted. "But I don't think he's stupid. Just eccentric."
"He's careless," Oliver answered. "I keep wishing I could leave him alone, but all I need to do is turn around and he's already getting into a mess again. I can't even get married while I keep having to play his babysitter."
Cinder's posture tensed up.
"He's not a baby," he said.
"He's a man-child. And he doesn't have anyone else watching out for him," Oliver replied. "His father's...well, he's all work this, good of the kingdom that, and his mother hovers over him like a hen over an egg. That's why I'm so glad he has you now," he added, smiling. "It used to be just me looking after him."
"Why do you think he needs someone to look after him?"
Cinder didn't know why exactly, but he was getting annoyed. Annoyed with Oliver's attitude. Annoyed with the way he seemed to view Gem as a helpless creature who needed to depend on others to survive.
"Gem's eighteen years old," he said, standing up from his work bench. "Is he childish? In some ways, sure! But he doesn't need a caretaker anymore." He clicked his tongue. "He's grown over the past months! He has his own ideas, thoughts and opinions. You don't need to babysit an adult anymore!"
Oliver straightened. "Hey—"
"I know he's strange," Cinder admitted. "I know he does stupid things sometimes! But do you know how you sound? Like he's a baby who can't take a single step without you!"
Oliver let out a frustrated exhale. "I'm just worried!"
"And how's that different from his mother clucking over him like a hen?" Cinder shot back. "You act like you do, but you don't take him seriously either!"
Oliver sighed.
"I've known Gem since he was born," he said. "I know what he's like. I remember a time when he was twelve—"
"That was six years ago! That's when you were as old as he is now!" Cinder gestured at him. "Are you the same person as you were back then?"
The knight paused.
"Guess what," Cinder continued, "he isn't either! I may only have known him for weeks," he admitted. "But I've never seen him as anything other than an equal!"
Oliver looked at him for a long moment. Then he smirked.
"You sure get worked up when it's about him," he said.
Cinder's face heated up.
"I care about him," he muttered. "It's normal to care about friends."
"You call me out for being protective," Oliver remarked, "when you're being pretty protective of him yourself." His expression softened. "You don't want anything to happen to him either, do you?"
Cinder narrowed his eyes. "That's different."
"How so?"
"I take him seriously."
Oliver didn't answer. Cinder kept working. He had no idea if his words had reached their mark, but he hoped so, for Gem's sake. Truth be told, the one telling Oliver all this should have been Gem and not him. But since the prince wasn't here, someone had needed to say it in his stead.
Finally Cinder had finished taking all the shapes and measurements, returning the boots back to Oliver. "Done."
Oliver gave a nod. "I'll get going, then," he said. "But I'll tell you one more thing."
Cinder frowned at him, but listened.
"Maybe you'd understand the way I feel," Oliver said, "if you cared a little more about your own siblings."
"Step-siblings," Cinder answered automatically. At once a twang of guilt shot through him. Marietta's face popped up in his head again, calling him her brother despite their lack of blood relation.
Oliver only gave him an appraising look. "Exactly."
Cinder stared after him as he left, shaking his head. Why couldn't he get through that guy's thick skull? Why couldn't he see that he was still treating Gem like an irresponsible toddler, to be handed over from one babysitter to the next?
Gem wasn't like that, Cinder knew. He did do some risky things. Dangerous things, even. His climb the other night had been horribly dangerous. So what? Everyone did sometimes. Sure, he was the prince and needed to make sure nothing actually happened to him, but so far nothing had. And apparently he was still capable of pulling stunts and coming out fine when Oliver wasn't around.
Besides, Gem was maturing. He was maturing rapidly. He was already not the same person that had begun his search for Cinder's masked alter ego, and in another few weeks he might still be different. The old Gem would never have admitted to being wrong so easily. The old Gem would have kept chasing an ideal that didn't exist, too stubborn to acknowledge the way his feelings had changed.
The memory of that night stirred again. As did the butterflies in Cinder's stomach.
Stop it.
For now all he could say for certain was that he cared for Gem a lot. He trusted him, he had faith in him, and he knew he deserved better. Gem deserved to be surrounded by people who believed in him just like Cinder did instead of viewing him as a disappointment or a helpless baby that could be loved, but not taken seriously.
He would make a good leader someday, Cinder was sure of it.
And he would need someone at his side who could support him in that.
Cinder's eyes fell on his workshop. His father's workshop.
Could that person truly be him?
Even if he did love Gem back, could he truly be the partner he needed and deserved even if that meant leaving his father's work behind?