Chapter 67

Chapter 67

After shooing away the curious onlookers, Aiden finally turned his attention to the documents in his hand. He was completely caught off guard by the news that Algernon was sponsoring the Golden Throne. Well, it's not like the Visconti Group is short on cash, he thought. Back in his office, he started making calls.

In another office, Priscilla was tying the final knot. As the last silk thread was secured, she let out a long sigh of relief. Mireille leaned in to get a closer look at Priscilla's creation.

"I never imagined silk could have such a luster," she said, craning her neck to examine the finished piece.

Priscilla rubbed her neck. "Yes, you can pick it up and look if you want."

"Won't it break?" Mireille asked, pointing skeptically at the main body of the necklace, which was made entirely of silk threads.

Priscilla shook her head. "Silk seems soft, but its resilience is greatly enhanced after weaving, so it won't break."

"I see. "Mireille was captivated by the beautiful object, and it wasn't until Priscilla spoke that she was pulled away. "I need to pack this up and get it ready for shipping."

Each piece had to be mailed in advance of the competition for preliminary judging by the panel. In addition to the jewelry, there was a complete set of ready-to-wear garments.

"The clothes are done, but I haven't decided on a model yet," Priscilla said, a hint of frustration in her voice. Models were often called walking clothes hangers, but they were still living, breathing people with their own personalities. Each model had a slightly different aura, and choosing the right one was no easy task.

Priscilla looked at the model cards Mireille handed her. "Are these all last-minute finds?"

"Sort of. The model we initially had in mind didn't quite fit our aesthetic, and since the Grayson family doesn't have an entertainment agency..." Mireille said apologetically.

Priscilla understood. She handed the cards back to Mireille. "None of these are quite right. We need a model with a classic beauty."

The request wasn't unreasonable, and Mireille readily agreed. "Okay! I'll get right on it!"

As the competition day drew closer, everything proceeded in an orderly fashion. During this time, Paxton called Kieran but refused to meet in person. Since he was unwilling to show himself, Priscilla didn't press the matter and continued to focus on her own work.

What Priscilla didn't expect was to see Quinlan at the Golden Throne competition. Carrying several large bags, she was heading backstage when she spotted Quinlan being interviewed just ahead. Quinlan's peripheral vision caught sight of Priscilla as well. Their eyes met for a moment before they both looked away.

Just as Priscilla was leaving the dressing room after dropping off her things, she ran into an unexpected person.

Algernon.

"Mr. Visconti, are you also... competing?" Priscilla asked after a moment's thought.

Algernon's gaze fell on her. This was the first time he had seen her since the Visconti family banquet.

"No, I'm a guest judge today," Algernon said.

Priscilla was even more surprised. "Are you interested in design, Mr. Visconti?"

"Yes, there might be similar collaborations in the future, so I came to see for myself," he said softly. "Are you confident about today?"

Priscilla shook her head. Although she had participated in many competitions abroad, she still felt uncertain about Avalonia.

"The judges for this competition have all studied internationally, so their aesthetic standards should be fairly consistent," Algernon added.

Priscilla had already researched the judges' preferences before the competition, but she hadn't expected Algernon to pay attention to such things as well. After chatting with him for a while and listening to his well-reasoned analysis of the competition, Priscilla's initial nervousness subsided.

"Besides Tatum Lawson, your only other strong competitor this time is Pearl," Algernon added.

The name Pearl sounded familiar to Priscilla. She looked at Algernon uncertainly. "Is that the same Pearl who knows Quinlan?"

Algernon nodded. "Pearl's family used to be in the ready-to-wear business, so she's been exposed to design since she was a child. However, her designs are always a bit rigid and lack a certain Natural Energy. So, while she's won a few minor awards, she doesn't have many major ones."

In design, personal effort was important, but Natural Energy was even more so. Priscilla was surprised to learn that Pearl was one of her main rivals. She pursed her lips, feeling a mix of emotions. Natural Energy was often more abundant in young designers just starting out, as they were less constrained and could express their feelings more freely.

"I understand," Priscilla said. Just as she finished speaking, her assistant, Niamh Jenkins, came rushing over. Mireille had recently hired her to help Priscilla.

"Priscilla, something's wrong! Our model just sprained her ankle. I don't think she'll be able to go on stage!" Niamh said, her voice a tense, hushed whisper.

"What happened?" Priscilla turned to Niamh. "Aren't all the models backstage? How could she have twisted her ankle?" Besides, the model Mireille had hired, Coralie Morgan, was a seasoned professional, even if she wasn't an international supermodel. She wouldn't make such a rookie mistake, would she?

Niamh was on the verge of tears. "Priscilla, you'll understand when you see."

The competition had already begun, with the first model on stage. Realizing the urgency, Priscilla excused herself from Algernon and followed Niamh backstage.

In the dressing room, Coralie was alone, holding a towel-wrapped ice pack to her ankle. Priscilla's gaze fell on the swollen joint. Despite the obvious injury, Coralie remained composed on the sofa.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Medici," Coralie said with a deep breath as Priscilla entered.

Priscilla gently moved Coralie's hand. "I've arranged for someone to take you to the hospital. Go get it checked out."

Coralie was taken aback for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, but what about the show today?" She had been paid to do a job.

Priscilla's eyes fell on the clothes hanging nearby.

"Someone tampered with our shoes. The heel was cut with a razor blade. Coralie didn't notice during the fitting, and the heel just snapped," the makeup artist explained from the side.

Just then, Mireille rushed in, having heard the news. "There are three more before it's our turn. " she said, her face grim. There was no time to investigate who was responsible. If the model couldn't go on stage on time, they would be disqualified.

Priscilla looked at the clothes. "I'll do it."