Identical dark pearls circled the lady of the manor’s neck and wrists, a beautiful match to the string of pearls that adorned her hair and ears.
No one would believe that those black spheres used to be blue, or that those pearls didn’t belong to the lady in the first place.
A closely guarded secret, the pearls grown by his family changed colour in reflection of their wearer. Those gems should be the blue of the open ocean, not inky black. He would make sure that they returned to their rightful owner.
Like a shadow, he slipped past the watchful eyes of the manor’s security team. He snuck a little sedative in the lady’s afternoon tea, and while she slept, he took the pearls off her.
In his hands, the spheres shifted to a deep beetroot red. He hid them in secret pockets stitched specifically into his clothes for this mission.
He was stopped once on the way out. Later, he face would be drawn on wanted posters all over the neighbourhood, but for that day, he escaped successfully with the pearls to be returned to their rightful owner.