Mother

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So...tell Gem the truth, huh.

It was decided. That left just a few questions.

For one, where was Gem now and how could Cinder get to him? And, more importantly...

How could he get him to believe that he really was the masked stranger from the ball?

~ ~ ~

I'll have to do something to prove it.

It wasn't so much a realization as it was solid knowledge, slowly manifesting in Cinder's head. Even now he could tell that there was no way Gem would believe him without proof; he would only accuse him of trying to make him give up on his search, and that would make things even worse. So what then? Ask him to present the shoe and put it on to show that it fit him perfectly?

Yeah, right. I'm so average-sized that doesn't prove anything, except that the masked guy and I wear the same size in shoes.

What then? Bring up something only the masked stranger and Gem would know? That might be a good option, but...

Cinder racked his brains for something useful, but all he could remember from that evening was his ever-growing exhaustion and panic.

If only he could become his masked self again, he thought. If only he could put on Sugar Plum's clothes again and turn up at Gem's doorstep, his masked dance partner beyond any doubt, so he could then take off the mask and reveal himself for who he was. But...

...Actually, why not?

Sugar Plum seemed to have magic powers. So if he asked her for help, maybe she could just bring back his look from that night.

The problem was just that he had no idea where to look for her.

~ ~ ~

Cinder still hadn't resolved the question when, one afternoon, a letter arrived.

At first he wondered if it had landed in his hands by mistake, but it was plainly and obviously addressed to him. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but the envelope was made of expensive paper, old-fashionedly sealed with a wax seal bearing a coat of arms Cinder didn't recognize. His heart skipped a beat. A letter to him from nobility—could it be...?

With shaky hands he opened the envelope, but the letter inside was only a short note that he skimmed over with eager eyes.

Cinder,

They put Gem under house arrest. I'm not allowed to contact him anymore. If you can, please check up on him. Maybe they'll let you in instead of me.

— O

Cinder's heart sank. O—that had to mean Olive, or Oliver, whichever they were at the moment. Of course it wasn't from Gem, he told himself in irritation. What had he been expecting?

Idiot. Like Gem would write you letters after that.

Well, he thought, at least he now knew where to find Gem once he had figured out the whole issue with the proof.

He'd definitely have to wear his costume now, he realized. No matter what Olive—Oliver?—said, he doubted they would let him talk to Gem any more than the prince's own bodyguard. At least, not while he was out here looking like himself. If his disguise had made people mistake him for a lord back then, maybe, just maybe, it would work again now.

Which led back to the base problem, of course. Sugar Plum.

Cinder might not like people much, but the nature of his job was that, sooner or later, he had come to know almost everyone in town. Sugar Plum, beyond any doubt, wasn't among those people. Which might mean she came from somewhere outside, which, in turn, meant he had no idea where to start looking for her.

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