The Ruby in the Cuff
Cassandra did not look afraid until Adrian asked for Elsie's sleeve.
"My lord?" Elsie whispered.
"Only if you permit it," he said.
That mattered. No one had asked permission of her body in that room until then.
Elsie pulled one hand from beneath the cloak. Her fingers trembled as she turned back the frayed cuff of her gray dress.
The tiny red button lay hidden on the inside seam.
It was no larger than a fingernail. Darker than glass. Cut in an old oval style with a shallow flaw near one edge like a trapped drop of smoke. Under the chandelier, it answered the stones on the royal gown with a low, unmistakable fire.
The court leaned forward.
Cassandra stopped moving entirely.
Adrian's jaw tightened, but he did not touch the button. He looked instead to the old seamstress at the servant doors.
"Mistress Margery Fenn. Come forward."
Fenn's face had gone gray. She made her way down the edge of the carpet as if walking toward a scaffold.
"Tell them," Adrian said.
Fenn's eyes filled. "My lord, I--"
"Tell them what that is."
The seamstress reached the gown, lifted its left sleeve with a hand that had stitched royal hems for forty years, and turned it under the light. Near the inner wrist was a place where one ruby button had been removed and replaced with a clever false stone. The repair was nearly invisible.
Nearly.
"It is the missing sleeve stone," Fenn whispered.
A murmur broke through the hall.
Cassandra snapped, "Old women see ghosts in thread."
Fenn flinched, but Adrian did not.
He removed a folded paper from inside his coat and held it out to the nearest guard.
"Bring Master Ivo Bell. He is waiting in the antechamber."
Cassandra's head turned sharply.
Master Ivo Bell had served as royal gem-cutter in Helena's final year. His hands were ruined now by age, but his eyes still knew stones better than most priests knew scripture. He entered with a leather case and bowed stiffly to Adrian.
The old man examined the button without removing it from Elsie's cuff. Then he examined the gown. Then he lowered his lens and crossed himself.
"It is the same set," he said. "The flaw in the cut is mine. I remember ruining it. Princess Helena laughed and told me flaws made jewels less lonely."
Elsie looked up at him.
The words struck somewhere she had no name for.
Cassandra's voice sliced through the moment.
"A stolen stone proves only theft."
Adrian turned to her.
"Then why," he asked, "did you report that stone still present on the inventory you signed the night Helena died?"
May you like
Cassandra's mouth opened.
For the first time that day, nothing came out.
