Chapter 93:
Just then, Isabella raised her voice. “Miss Buckley, your necklace looks identical to Miss Owen’s. Was there ever a second one made? Isn’t it odd you’re both wearing them tonight?”
Celia turned toward Rylie and gave her a long look. “This necklace is an heirloom. It’s been in my family for three centuries. A queen once owned it. There is only one like it.”
Then she looked directly at Rylie. “Miss Owen, mind sharing where yours came from?”
Rylie brought her fingers to the sapphire resting at her collar. “Miss Buckley, are you certain yours is the authentic one?”
Celia’s brows dipped faintly as she answered, steady and sure, “Of course it is. This piece is called ‘Ocean’s Tear.’ It hasn’t left our vault in over three centuries.”
Rylie lifted her head, her voice calm yet pointed. “Now that’s interesting. This one, too, came from royal lineage, crafted three hundred years ago using age-old methods. The stones were hand-cut by court jewelers, each one bearing the royal mark.”
Celia’s face wavered for a second, but she laughed lightly and replied, “Miss Owen, imitations these days are surprisingly convincing. Still, the precision and artistry of true heirlooms can’t be copied.”
Paola quickly backed her up. “Exactly. Miss Buckley’s necklace has been passed down in her family for generations. It wouldn’t be right to suggest hers is a fake. You should stop acting like this.”
Rylie didn’t flinch. She simply turned her necklace around so the back was visible to the room.
“If we’re talking about craftsmanship, why not let everyone judge for themselves?” Her voice was even, almost too composed. “Genuine royal pieces are marked in secret spots. It helps stop counterfeits from circulating.” She held up the clasp. “This one has ‘E.V.1732’ etched into it. That stands for Edmund Verne, a master jeweler from the royal court.”
At that, several guests leaned closer. When they spotted the engraving, murmurs rippled through the crowd, and some even leaned over to get a better look at Celia’s necklace. Those familiar with antique jewelry began to exchange looks.
“It’s not the same,” whispered someone.
Celia’s hand darted to her own necklace. Her fingers trembled as they brushed against the metal. There was no engraving.
Rylie didn’t miss a beat. “Also, real royal sapphires produce a velvet-like glow under proper lighting. That glow can’t be copied. It comes from the minerals formed under intense pressure.”
She turned just enough for the chandelier’s light to land on the necklace. In a flash, the gems around Rylie’s neck seemed to stir with life, rippling like the sea and glinting like stars scattered across a midnight sky.
Celia’s necklace, by comparison, looked flat. The blue hue was bright, but it lacked any real glow.
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