The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 393

Chapter 393 The Necklace

Chapter 393 The Necklace

It had to be a coincidence–just another trick of fate.

After all, imitation flooded every market stall; someone could have lifted the Fane family’s necklace and reproduced it, stone for stone, chain for chain.

The original piece–last seen fifty years ago–vanished the same night Everett’s younger sister disappeared into the dark. For half a century, the Fane family had scoured continents, hunting both the woman and the necklace that bound her story to theirs.

The logic was simple: find the jewels, and just maybe they would find the girl, Violet Fane, whose absence still hollowed every family gathering.

Legend said Lady Margaret Fane had intended the ruby necklace as part of her dowry, but Violet had fallen in love with it–clutching the glittering thing until the matriarch fastened it around her own neck. Its design was bespoke–a singular commission no jeweler had ever duplicated, at least not officially.

Laura stood behind Quinn, fingers gentle against the chain. “Wait a second, Quinn, I think there are some words etched on the link right here. It’s tiny–can’t quite tell what it says.”

“It’s the word ‘Gurney,” Quinn said, smiling slightly. “My granddad found my mother wearing this necklace the day he discovered her–so they used that character as her surname.”

“I see,” Laura murmured, remembering that Quinn’s mother had grown up an orphan.

Orphans were heartbreakingly common in those years, yet Arlene had been spared a life of wandering thanks to the Bridger family’s open door.

Across the room, Serena overheard the exchange, and a storm detonated behind her poised expression.

The name ‘Gurney‘-of course. That was Lady Margaret Fane’s maiden name.

Which could mean only one thing. The necklace before her eyes was the very heirloom the Fane family had chased for generations.

And Quinn’s mother… could she be Violet?

Color drained from Serena’s cheeks, replaced by a sickly gray.

If that were true, then Leander Fane would become her biological cousin, and the Quinn she

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Chapter 393 The Necklace

disdained would rise overnight to Fane royalty.

Everett had never married, had fathered no heirs.

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Ironically, the Bridger siblings might prove the closest blood successors to the entire house.

Once a DNA test confirmed it, the hierarchy would shift forever.

Her own dreams of leveraging Leander’s influence would vanish, and Quinn would have every right to stand on the very pedestal Serena coveted. No. She could not, would not, allow that future to unfold. She had to find a way to erase the necklace–erase the evidence.

Meanwhile, Leander’s gaze lingered on Quinn, radiant in her evening gown, the ruby necklace burning against her skin. For an instant, another figure overlapped hers–a girl in a simple flowered dress, laughing warmly at him and his toddler sister, the same rubies glittering at her throat.

“Is it beautiful?” the voice asked.

“Beautiful,” the little boy who had once been him murmured.

The present crashed in. A white–hot throb exploded behind his temples, as if an unseen dam had cracked and memories were surging for release.

“Ugh…” Leander clasped his skull with both hands. Beads of sweat gathered on his brow, rolled down, and vanished into his collar.

In the vision, he was no longer a man but a gangly adolescent, standing on scorched earth that still smoked from artillery. His mother knelt amid the rubble and pressed a ruby necklace into the palm of a foreign soldier.

Even then, he understood–the necklace was her dearest possession, proof of who she truly was, a slender thread that might one day lead her back to the parents she had never met. Yet desperation had forced her to trade that last fragment of identity for a sack of bread and a vial of medicine. In that moment, the boy vowed that someday–somehow–he would reclaim the necklace for her.

“Rowan! Rowan, talk to me. What’s wrong?” Quinn’s frantic cry drowned every other sound.

He gritted his teeth against the stabbing inside his skull and pried his eyes open. Through the haze, he saw her skidding to her knees beside him, concern etched in every line of her face.

It was Quinn–his sister.

“I… I think pieces are coming back,” Leander murmured, staring at the pendant. “I remember

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