Bedside Conversations

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When Gem woke up, the first thing he saw was a figure slumped over in a chair beside his bed, quiet and motionless and probably asleep.

He blinked. Even in his bleary, feverish, half-asleep state he could tell that something was strange. Oliver didn't tend to watch over him when he was sick. He came when he was called, but he never sat beside his bed unless Gem was doing very, very badly.

He wasn't feeling that bad right now, though. Still sniffly and miserable, but nowhere near like he was dying or anything. So...what was going on?

Blinking again, he focused his eyes on the figure in the chair, his head aching as he tried to turn. "Olly?"

The figure gave a start. A book fell clattering to the floor, even as Gem rolled over to fully catch sight of the visitor beside his bed.

It wasn't Oliver, all right. It was...

"Cinder?"

The shoemaker snatched the book off the floor, looking startled and somehow caught. "What, lazybones, awake already?" he snapped, jumping to his feet. "Congrats on getting sick, idiot! You missed breakfast."

Gem suppressed the urge to throw a pillow at his stupid face. For a moment he had almost wondered if Cinder might actually be kind of nice, watching over him like that, but obviously that wasn't the case. This guy was not only a jerk, he was also rude.

"It's your fault I got sick, you stupid prick," he shot back. "You started the whole snowball fight."

"Because you wouldn't shut up!"

"And you shut people up with violence?" Gem flashed a haughty, mocking smile. "That's so uncultured. Have you never heard about resolving conflicts with words, Master Cinder?"

Cinder turned red, and Gem could tell he had hit his mark. "I don't want to hear that from the guy who almost punched me in the face!"

"I'm the prince. I can punch people as much as I want."

"You're also a bratty, spoiled little tyrant."

Gem stuck out his tongue. "And you were watching that tyrant sleep like the creep you are!"

That wasn't actually how he felt, deep down, but he decided he thought so anyway. The alternative would be feeling grateful that Cinder seemed to care about him after all, which was most definitely not something he was planning to do, now or ever. He'd be damned if he wound up feeling gratitude for the likes of Cinder the shoemaker!

"You say that like I'd be interested in watching you sleep," Cinder said with a scoff. "I get enough of your snoring through that joke of an inn wall, thanks a lot!"

This time it was Gem's turn to blush. "I don't snore!"

"Sure you don't. You're sawing trees in half."

"You ugly liar!"

"Whole forests."

"Shut up!" Gem tried to throw a punch at Cinder's arm and missed. "You're just making up slander 'cause you're jealous of me."

Cinder sat back down. "Why should I bother to make things up?" he deadpanned. "Nothing could leave a worse impression than you do yourself."

Gem opened his mouth to reply, then a sneezing fit cut him off. "You should be so glad I'm sick," he said. "Or else I'd have punched you already."

"Resorting to violence, Your Highness? How uncivilized."

There it was again, that mocking, almost mischievous twinkle in Cinder's eyes. Gem gritted his teeth and sneezed once more. "Once I'm healthy again, I'm gonna kill you."

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