Chapter 23: The Bracelet

Maximilian glanced at Catherine, clearly catching the irony, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Then he turned to the camera with the effortless composure of a male lead born to headlines.

“My name isn’t on buildings,” he said pleasantly. “It’s already on syllabi.”

The influencer let out a low whistle. “Okay—okay. Academic royalty.”

Catherine bowed her head slightly, eyes rolling. She’d mentioned the Remington name earlier, how it was etched into buildings, and that made them powerful, and now he was flaunting his name like this.

So what if his family name was printed in history books?

“You, miss?” the influencer asked eagerly, pointing the fuzzy mic at her.

“My family owns a private airport,” Catherine said, as casually as if she were commenting on the weather. She didn’t think many could top that. She had hidden who she was till then, thinking it was the right thing to do.

Well, no more.

Maximilian’s head snapped toward her. His mouth parted, just a fraction, before he caught himself and controlled his expression.

The influencer’s grin froze. “Oh—wow. Like… a private airstrip?” He laughed too quickly. “That’s insane. How much land does that even take—what—two hundred acres?”

Catherine resumed walking.

The influencer scrambled after her, still recording.

She turned back, polite enough to be lethal.

“Not an airstrip,” she corrected gently, an elegant smile curving her lips. “An airport.”

There was a beat.

“So—so commercial planes land there too? Or is it, like… family-only?” he blurted.

Catherine smiled once.

The kind of smile that ended conversations.

Then she walked away.

The influencer stared after her, mouth opening and closing as if his system needed a reboot. Slowly, he turned to Maximilian.

Maximilian didn’t look at him.

He was watching Catherine disappear down the street, the corner of his mouth lifting despite himself.

He admired how she did it… She never raised her voice. She simply stated a fact and let the world collapse under its own assumptions.

Dangerous, he thought, following her once more.

On her way, Catherine was stopped by a roadside seller who was so wildly out of place in this upscale neighborhood that she might as well have fallen out of a fairytale.

The woman sat cross-legged beside a small folding table, its surface crowded with glittering jewelry that caught the afternoon sun.

“Blessings upon you and your family,” the seller called cheerfully. “Come, Lady! I have jewelry fit for a queen.”

Catherine paused.

…Well.

She did love jewelry.

She crouched despite herself, curiosity sparkling brighter than the gems. She didn’t usually shop at roadside stalls, because her purchases were delivered in velvet boxes, accompanied by certificates and armed security, but the woman explained that these were handcrafted imitations of medieval designs.

Imitations.

Catherine leaned closer.

Her breath hitched.

The designs were unmistakable.

The clasps. The filigree. The proportions. They were identical to pieces from her past life. Even the craftsmanship checked out. If these were fakes, they were scandalously good ones, worth thousands at least.

And like a medieval queen faced with a treasure trove…

She wanted them.

A bracelet caught her eye, that was gold with emerald gems, secured with a peg-and-tongue clasp. The emeralds were deep and clear, the metal warm against her skin.

She lifted it, sniffed it.

…It smelled real.

She was half-tempted to bite it when a bolo tie drew her attention—silver, with a centerpiece of what looked suspiciously like imperial jade.

Daddy would love this.

Then an onyx ring.

Wow. This would suit Alexander perfectly.

So Catherine did what any reasonable princess would do.

She picked one.

Then another.

Then another.

By the time she was done, her arms were filled with jewelry for her entire family.

“How much?” she asked, radiant with satisfaction.

She hadn’t known roadside stalls sold imitation jewelry this good. Frankly, it outshone most luxury brands.

“This one twenty, this one ten, this one…” the seller counted aloud.

Catherine noticed the faint cloudiness in one of the woman’s eyes. For a heartbeat, her pulse jumped as it was an echo of a seer from her past life… but then she realized it was merely cataracts.

“Two hundred,” the woman said at last.

Catherine surveyed her haul.

Two hundred for this quality wasn’t bad at all.

“Do you accept card?” she asked.

The seller blinked. “No. Cash only.”

Catherine froze.

“Cash?” she echoed, genuinely startled. “Who carries two hundred grand in cash?”

The seller frowned. “If you don’t have cash, return it,” she muttered, trying to reclaim the jewelry. “Looks rich but doesn’t even have two hundred dollars in that fancy purse…”

“Here.”

Two crisp hundred-dollar bills entered Catherine’s vision.

She didn’t need to look.

She knew it was Maximilian.

Why he was still following her? Or why he was now pretending to be generous? It was beyond her comprehension.

“I don’t think that would be enou—”

She didn’t finish.

The seller beamed, kissed Maximilian’s hand with theatrical gratitude, and immediately returned to her seat.

Catherine blinked.

…That was it?

She got all of this—for just two hundred dollars? That’s less than the cost of a meal!

Gold-looking gold. Silver-looking silver. Gemstones that could fool trained eyes.

Her lips curved proudly.

Her brothers always teased her—said she had no grasp of the real world, that she’d be swindled the moment she stepped outside alone.

But look at me.

She hadn’t been allowed out alone… and she still managed a brilliant deal.

She was already planning to brag when a dry, mocking voice cut in beside her.

“Who sells two-hundred-thousand-dollar merchandise at a roadside stall?” Maximilian looked at her with a playful smile. “Good thing that woman was honest. Otherwise, you’d have been swindled out of two hundred grand for…” He gestured at her arms. “This.”

Fake jewelry.

“Do you know how much two hundred grand is?” he continued coolly.

Catherine ground her teeth.

As if her brothers weren’t enough.

Now this annoying gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe thought he had the right to lecture her too.

She hugged the jewelry protectively, and glared. He wasn’t affected. It reminded her of those times in their childhood where he used to tease her like this relentlessly. She didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Catherine huffed and tried to stuff the jewelry into her purse. That was when the bracelet slipped from her fingers. It hit the pavement with a soft clink… and rolled.

Before Catherine could react, Maximilian bent and picked it up.

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