Third Person’s POV


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    “It’s not like that, this is an authentic piece!” the young woman who recognized the painting spoke up.


    She was Abigail Watson, granddaughter of the renowned royal schr Doug Watson.


    Veronica nced at her indifferently and said with certainty, “Miss Watson, our Silverfeather Pack’s collection includes Craig’s “Wild Rose.” I can tell clearly. This painting is a well–done imitation, but still a forgery.”


    “Look at the signature–Master Craig uses outlined script, while this one has no outline.”


    Everyone leaned in for a closer look and spotted the fluent signature in the bottom–right corner without an outline or in script.


    However, few present had seen Craig’s original works. Given Veronica’s reasoning and aware the Silverfeather Pack owned a masterpiece, they epted the “forgery” conclusion.


    Rosemary finally breathed a sigh of relief–it was a fake!


    Prisci couldn’t bear to watch–Adide would likely be drowned in usations.


    Wanda stormed forward, tore the painting in half, and threw it to the ground. “Adide, why did you bring <i>a </i>forgery to my mother’s birthday banquet?”


    “Ah!” Abigail winced, picking up the damaged painting, “This is a genuine work! What a pity…”


    Veronica sneered, “Miss Watson, didn’t you hear? The signature’s font is clearly off. Should I fetch our Silverfeather Pack’s authentic piece forparison?”


    Abigail, however, said seriously, “We own two of Craig’s ‘Wild Rose‘ paintings, created live in our backyard. My grandfather was present. One depicts a rosebush with outlined script; the other, a gift from Craig, uses no script- in fact, Craig employed more than two signature fonts.”


    Pointing to the painting’s signature, she said, “This signature matches ours exactly. My grandfather is here tonight. If you doubt it, he can authenticate it.”


    Veronica paused but shook her head, “Impossible! Craig’s publicly sold works all bear outlined script–it’smon knowledge in the art world.”


    Abigail exined, “True. The one we purchased uses outlined script; the gifted one doesn’t.”


    Veronica<b>, </b>embarrassed, insisted, “Craig’s public works all have outlined script.”


    Wanda seized the chance to sneer, “See? Adide’s painting must be purchased. Why would Craig create something specially for her? If bought, yet signed in seal–script, it’s definitely a forgery!”


    Others nodded–why would Craig gift Adide a painting?


    Even if it <b>were </b>a family heirloom, she wouldn’t part with it at a birthday banquet.


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    Prisci’s brief admiration for Adide vanished–using a forgery to deceive others, she’d embarrass


    Lance as a mate.


    Adide, however, smiled faintly and said, “Craig’s my schoolmate. I know his works are precious. I brought this specially for Princess Madison’s birthday, but unfortunately, his months–long masterpiece has


    been torn.”


    The crowd gasped–schoolmate?


    Craig was her schoolmate?


    Veronica eximed, “You’re saying Craig and you are from the same school?”


    Adide calmly replied, “Yes. I trained at Warscar Training Camp. Craig was one year older than me. Didn’t you know?”


    “Heavens<b>!</b><b>” </b>


    All eyes turned to the torn painting in Abigail’s hands. Someonemented, “This is actually an authentic piece? Torn like this, what a waste!”


    Madison still refused to believe it and barked, “I don’t believe it! Fetch Mr. Doug!”


    Doug was engaged in conversation with other guests at the time.


    Hunt, as part of the hosting party, was entertaining guests–Lance had also arrived early, worried about Adide being harassed among thedies but bound by etiquette to wait outside.


    When the omega requested Doug to authenticate the painting, guests rose in anticipation–Craig was an artist they admired. Witnessing the authentication of a potential masterpiece was an honor, and even Shaman Digby followed with interest.


    Lance eagerly followed the crowd inside. Upon seeing the torn painting, Doug gasped, “Torn?!”


    Other Alphas crowded around, voicing their dismay.


    Veteran art enthusiasts, disregarding decorum, mourned on the spot, “If it’s authentic, this is a tragedy!”


    Doug’s face turned ashen, trembling with rage. “What ‘if‘? This is an authentic piece! Who tore it? This is outrageous<b>!</b><b>” </b>


    Doug’s voice quivered, heart–wrenched–though he owned two “Wild Rose” paintings, Craig’s authentic work should never be treated so callously.


    This was not just an insult to the artist but a sheer waste of art.