Shut Up, Cinderella

A Mile In Your Shoes

After Cinder was fully disguised, Oliver disappeared, saying something about Gem's disguise.

Cinder was left alone in his room, afraid of going anywhere. As soon as he set foot outside, it seemed to him, someone would see through his disguise and then he'd be dead meat. And he couldn't even read; there were no books anywhere in his room, and he didn't know where to go and borrow something.

After what felt like half an eternity, there was finally a knock on his door. Giving a start, almost expecting some guard to have found him out already—irrational as that was—he jumped to his feet, slowly and cautiously opening the door. But the people outside weren't here to arrest him; they were Oliver and Gem, looking every bit as different from usual as he did.

His clothes looked quite good on Oliver, he noted, taking in the knight's disguise. Gem's bodyguard had seemingly changed the shape of his face using makeup, and his normally smooth features were more tired and worn out now, his long hair pulled back into a bun with messy strands hanging into his face. But that wasn't even the peak of his work. His true masterpiece was the miracle he had performed on Gem.

The prince was barely recognizable anymore. He looked more tanned and weathered, a few years older, his bright, unmistakable red hair darkened to a ruddy brown, using what, Cinder couldn't imagine. Even his clothes were those of a commoner: he was clad in a servant's garments, wherever Oliver had managed to find those.

"Where did you find anything his size?" Cinder asked as he ushered them inside, closing the door behind them.

Oliver smiled innocently. "Oh, back channels," he said, "some bribery. How do we look?"

"Unrecognizable," Cinder said truthfully. He didn't know how to feel about this change in appearance. Gem in particular he couldn't get used to. The darker hair and skin tone went well with his brown eyes, but Cinder already missed the familiar mop of orange-red.

"You too," Oliver answered. "Or what do you think, Gem?"

They both glanced over at him, but the prince made no response. All he did was stare at Cinder with increasingly wide eyes, taking in every detail of his costume, his disguise.

Cinder swallowed.

They really did look alike now, he and his masked self.

Would he figure it out? Would he realize...?

But Gem didn't say anything. He didn't seem shocked, or upset, or even remotely surprised. He just continued staring.

"What?" Cinder snapped. "Anything on my face?"

Abruptly Gem stopped staring, giving a jolt as if startled out of a dream. Crossing his arms, he turned away. "Nothing."

"Then what?"

"Nothing!"

"If you were staring, then obviously there was something!" Cinder shot back. "If I look weird, just grow a spine and say so!"

"You do look weird."

Gem still wasn't looking at him, but his cheeks and ears were suspiciously red. "You should go back to your normal outfit," he grumbled. "You look totally stupid in this."

"Right back at you." Cinder clicked his tongue. "Too bad we can't do that because someone is being chased by his father."

"Don't fight, boys," Oliver interrupted them. "We should get going. So, Cinder is now Sir Obsidian, and we're his servants. Remember your roles, everyone."

Like I could ever forget it, Cinder thought as he followed the other two out of the building. In every glass surface his reflection looked back at him, older and elegant and startlingly unfamiliar. The knight uniform felt strange on him, though not quite as strange as the sword hanging from his side.