Shut Up, Cinderella

Not Him

Gem was done with everything for the day, and now he had nothing left to do except lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling.

His room felt too big, not to mention too empty. He had never paid it any heed before, but right now he couldn't help but notice how little was in it, how little of anything, how little life. What use did his huge bed have if only one person lay in it? What use did his books have if he didn't have anyone to talk about them to? What use did the view from his window have if he was the only one who ever saw it?

He wished he was back at Cinder's house, crammed together in that tiny room, talking late at night, sleeping on an old mattress he could barely fit onto. He wished he could hear Izetta and Marietta in the neighboring room, the maid bustling about, the sounds of the townspeople and animals outside. It had been cramped, sure. But compared to this place...it had been so full of life.

But his beloved. After he got out from this house arrest, his first priority should be finding him before he lost any more time. No matter how much he missed Cinder. Love over friendship, right?

"Gem, are you in there?"

He lifted his head. The voice of his mother sounded in through the door along with a soft knock. Gem pushed himself up. "What?" he asked.

"Your father is done with work for the day," his mother answered. "Won't you dine with us tonight?"

Oh, no. No.

"I'm not hungry," Gem lied even though he was starving. "Eat without me."

"Come on, dear. We haven't eaten together in so long," his mother answered. "Not even on Midwinter's Day, remember?"

Of course Gem remembered. It had been the best Midwinter of his life. Not that he would say that; it would upset his mother, and he'd rather not deal with that right now.

"I don't feel like it," he said instead.

"Gem, please! Haven't you missed your family at all?"

Maybe I would if you guys weren't fighting all the time, Gem thought, lying back down. He didn't say that either. Once, years ago, he had tried to explain that it bothered him, but by now he had simply accepted it as an inevitability.

His mother was quiet, waiting. But when he didn't respond, she finally spoke again.

"If you love us," she said, "you'll join us for dinner."

Gem squirmed. It wasn't like he didn't love his parents. He just didn't want to spend any time with the two of them together, the feeling of sitting on a tinderbox that came with it. The constant fear that someone might say something that blew up into a fight.

"Step away, Rosa."

He grimaced. His father, too. This was about to be great.

"I should have known not to trust you with any practical tasks," the king said in an undertone, then he addressed Gem in his room. "Gemstone, stop sulking in your room like a child. You are eighteen years old, you should act your age."

Gem curled up, closing his eyes. He didn't want to be eighteen right now. Except maybe months. Eighteen months would be nice.

"Stop being so harsh on him!" Queen Rosalya replied, even though she had been the one trying to convince Gem just a moment before. "Maybe he isn't feeling well."

"Then he should say so like the grown man he is," the king answered. "You coddle him too much, he'll grow up into a spoiled brat."

The queen's voice turned frustrated. "You have no right to tell me how I treat my son!"