The Hidden Mark Inside the Egg
It had been some time since the full-scale analysis began.
During that time, James Miller moved back and forth between the New York headquarters and the California branch, checking the progress whenever he could.
The internal structure was captured with a micro-CT scanner.
The enamel’s chemical composition was dissected through infrared spectroscopy.
The XRF gold purity and impurity data confirmed in the first round of testing were rechecked.
They even cross-referenced the sediment patterns in the contamination layer and the method used to set the jewels.
Only after all of that was completed as quickly as possible, along with cross-verification by other trustworthy institutions, did the report finally arrive.
It was bound into a single document and laid on James’s desk.
James Miller read it more than once, from the first page to the last, not missing a single line.
Hoo. This is really absurd...
Inside the angel’s wing, confirmed by CT, there was a spring mechanism.
The winding gaps in the coil were subtly irregular.
This wasn’t machine work, but the trace of a master craftsman adjusting each piece by hand with tweezers.
Perfectly reproducing not only the craftsman’s minute control of force, but also the rhythm of his hands, was practically impossible.
The enamel on the exterior was guilloché, the signature technique of the Fabergé workshop.
A geometric pattern was first carved with precision into the metal surface.
Over that, multiple layers of translucent enamel were applied and fired.
This was no mere coating.
It was a glassy layer made by melting powdered glass at eight hundred degrees and laying it over the metal.
Its clarity was like hardened liquid jewels.
Light passing through that translucent layer reflected off the metal pattern engraved beneath, and depending on the angle, it shimmered as if rippling.
It’s on a completely different level from the synthetic resin enamel they make these days.
What drew James Miller’s attention most was the proportion of lead oxide contained within that glassy enamel.
Compared with the enamel data from other Fabergé works, it matched perfectly.
In truth, it was virtually impossible to reproduce enamel with exactly the same composition.
A forger would have had to make the enamel by nineteenth-century methods, too?
That meant reconstructing the entire recipe as it had existed back then.
The most decisive part was...
The item underlined in red on page 23 of the report.
What the analysis revealed was a blurred engraving, long buried beneath layers of contamination.
- E.K.
Eric Collin.
Chief artisan responsible for the creation of the most important works to come out of the Fabergé workshop from 1870 through the early 1890s.
Fabergé’s right hand.
The handwriting matched exactly the initials engraved on other genuine pieces.
And then there was the next mark.
- ФАБЕРЖЕ.
The brand mark of the Fabergé workshop.
And the double-headed eagle.
The imperial emblem reserved only for goods supplied to the royal household.
Cross-checking against the engraving data from other authentic pieces showed that the typeface, the depth of the punch, the spacing between the letters, and the shape of the impressions all matched.
After closing the report, James wiped his face with one hand.
Every piece of evidence points to it being genuine. There’s no way this is a fake.
Leaning back in his chair, James stared at the ceiling.
His heart was pounding.
Damn it, this is real!
It felt as though he could hear, again, the words his graduate-school professor had once spoken.
- These are the Holy Grail of the art world. If someone were to find them, it would be like rewriting history.
All that’s left now is verification from other authoritative voices.
* * *
Eterna Gallery, representative’s office.
Shin A-young was already seated in front of her laptop.
“You’re here?”
She was working hard to hold back the corners of her mouth, but her eyes were already smiling.
“Please sit.”
Shin A-young turned the laptop screen toward Si-woo.
“This is the material James Miller sent over.”
The full report. High-resolution photos. Analysis data sheets.
Si-woo scanned the screen.
Eric Collin’s initials. The matching lead-oxide ratio in the enamel. The internal spring mechanism confirmed by CT scan.
Everything was perfect.
At last Shin A-young couldn’t hold it in any longer and laughed.
“It’s genuine.”
Si-woo lifted his head from the laptop.
With a happy smile, Shin A-young said, “The final analysis from Crosier Fine Art is in. The enamel composition, gold purity, craftsmanship, and engraving all matched, without a single discrepancy.”
“Si-woo, this is a discovery of the century.”
Only then did Si-woo let out a breath of relief.
“I’m really glad.”
But before long, Shin A-young’s expression darkened a little.
Turning the laptop screen back toward herself, she spoke.
“...There’s one problem.”
As if he had expected it, Si-woo asked, “Is it because of Russia?”
Shin A-young gave a light sigh.
“Yes. If the Russian government claims it was looted cultural property and files suit, things could become very complicated. Once a dispute over ownership starts, it can drag on for years. In the meantime, the Fabergé egg could be tied up under a court custody order, and the appraisal results would be suspended in midair. We may even have to resolve it through negotiations with them.”
Si-woo listened quietly.
“The most important issue is provenance. How this egg left Russia, and by what route. If that isn’t clear, it gives the Russian side leverage. Other countries might brush it off by saying it was purchased legitimately, but we’re private individuals. Taking on a nation is another matter.”
An old man who had once driven trucks.
The Chariot and Angel Egg that had sat in the corner of a warehouse thirty years ago.
The old man had said he’d won it in poker long ago, instead of cash.
But there was no need to negotiate with Russia over it.
I already know the truth.
The information he had already confirmed through the status window.
This egg had been officially sold in 1927, when the Soviet government sold imperial property to the West for foreign currency.
Not looting, but a sale.
The state itself had sold it directly.
Si-woo spoke.
“I’ll handle that part.”
Shin A-young looked at him.
There was a great deal she seemed to want to ask, but instead of pressing him, she gave him a look that said she would trust him for now.
“...Understood. Then I’ll set up a meeting with James Miller. You’ll go with Director Yang Dong-seok, right?”
“Yes. I think it would be best if Director Yang Dong-seok and Director Choi Min-ho came along as well.”
Si-woo immediately called Yang Dong-seok.
“Yes, Director Yang. Crosier Fine Art has finished the final analysis on the Fabergé egg. It’s been confirmed as genuine.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
Then Yang Dong-seok’s signature booming laugh burst out.
- Hahaha! Is that so? Appraiser Kim Si-woo, it’s genuine? Congratulations! As expected, you’ve gone and pulled off another one, Mr. Kim Si-woo!”
“But there’s one problem.”
He explained in detail about the objects the Russian government had sold off during the Soviet era.
He explained that objects with unclear provenance could lead to ownership disputes.
Yang Dong-seok listened seriously, and Si-woo said in a reassuring tone, “But I have a way. For now, let’s go to the United States.”
- Hahaha. Understood. I’ll trust you, Appraiser Kim Si-woo.
* * *
Following Kim Si-woo’s decision, James Miller contacted the three most authoritative outside institutions at the same time.
The Fabergé Heritage Committee.
The Royal Collection Trust.
The Fabergé Museum in Saint Petersburg.
He attached the full internal analysis report from Crosier Fine Art, along with all the high-resolution photographs.
Their response was, naturally, immediate.
The Fabergé Heritage Committee replied within hours.
- We’ll come take a look right away. Since this came from Crosier Fine Art, we’ll trust that it’s not false.
The committee chair, Sarah Fabergé, said she would personally examine the original piece.
The great-granddaughter of Carl Fabergé.
A woman who had inherited both the jewelry design skills and the family records from her father, Theo Fabergé.
That egg, which had been reduced to a single black-and-white photograph and one line in a Soviet property inventory.
Her cousin Tatiana had spent her entire life searching for it before dying.
And Sarah was the one who had carried that will forward.
One word from Sarah Fabergé would give it enormous credibility.
Caroline di Gusto, senior curator at the Royal Collection Trust, booked the next flight out of London.
She was someone who had handled dozens of Fabergé pieces owned by the British royal family for twenty years.
And another person boarded a plane as well.
Alexei Lukin, senior researcher at the Fabergé Museum, left Saint Petersburg.
* * *
Crosier Fine Art, California branch, special appraisal room on the second basement level.
Experts from the three institutions gathered in one place.
Si-woo, Director Yang Dong-seok, and Director Choi Min-ho were there too.
Director Choi Min-ho set up two cameras in one corner of the appraisal room and quietly began filming.
James Miller put on white gloves and released the lock on the storage case.
Inside a specially made oxygen-free case, the Chariot and Angel Egg came into view.
The air in the room changed.
Sarah Fabergé was the first to step up to the worktable.
She took a loupe and studied the spokes of the chariot’s wheel for a long moment before speaking.
“In my great-grandfather’s workshop, there was a habit of slightly flaring the ends of the spokes outward. It was done to give the piece visual dynamism.”
Sarah put the loupe down.
“The ends of these spokes do flare outward, just as you’d expect.”
Caroline, there on behalf of the British royal collection, checked the underside of the ornament.
“The Fabergé workshop finishes even the parts no one can see. Other goldsmiths don’t put that much care into the hidden surfaces because they think nobody will notice. But this has the same finishing pattern as the pieces in the royal collection. The filing direction, the uniformity of the polish. It matches exactly what I’ve seen.”
After examining it closely, Caroline added, “It’s perfect.”
Alexei, from the Fabergé Museum in Russia, spread the photos he had brought beside the worktable.
They were poor-quality images taken a hundred years ago, restored flawlessly by modern technology.
Everything visible within the limits of the photographs matched.
“Oh...”
Even after that, Alexei continued to stare at the Chariot and Angel Egg, letting out exclamations of admiration for quite some time.
A long silence fell.
Sarah was the first to speak.
“I do not believe Crosier Fine Art would collude with another institution and falsify the test results. If they did, they would never be able to bear the consequences later. If all this evidence is true, then the Fabergé Heritage Committee recognizes this object as the Chariot and Angel Egg made in 1888.”
Caroline also let out a deep breath.
“I reach the same conclusion. It’s an honor to see a lost treasure again. I want to see it properly restored as soon as possible.”
Alexei followed.
“The scientific analysis is fully consistent. It clearly points to this being genuine. The Fabergé Museum agrees as well, but...”
Alexei let the last word trail off.
“If this is state property that was illegally removed from Russia, then we on the Russian side would have no choice but to begin the official process of requesting its return. I trust you understand that part.”
The air in the conference room froze.
James Miller’s face stiffened.
“Senior Researcher Alexei.”
James met his gaze and said sharply, “Is that the official position of the Fabergé Museum, or the position of the Russian Ministry of Culture?”
“At present, it would be fair to say it is closer to the museum’s position. But if this news reaches Moscow... Russia, my homeland, will not simply sit still. That’s something anyone could anticipate, not just me.”
A brief silence passed.
As if taking a step back, Alexei answered in an even tone.
“Don’t misunderstand me. I am genuinely moved by the results confirmed here today. An artifact from a vanished dynasty, lost in 1922, has returned to history after more than a century. I also offer my respect to Appraiser Kim Si-woo, who found it, and to Appraiser James Miller, who analyzed it.”
From the late 1920s into the early 1930s.
During Stalin’s rise to power.
The Soviet government sought enormous amounts of foreign currency to fuel rapid industrialization.
It was only natural that if they were going to build factories, import machinery, and bring in engineers, they would need dollars and pounds.
That was how Antiquariat came into being.
A state-level organization for selling art and antiques.
Its job was to sell off imperial relics stored in the Kremlin Armory and the Hermitage Museum to Western dealers.
Masterpieces by Rembrandt, Raphael, and Titian were all let go for a pittance.
So were dozens of Fabergé eggs.
Many of the Fabergé eggs sold around the world had flowed west through Antiquariat.
In the heavy silence, Si-woo finally spoke.
“Senior Researcher Alexei. The phrase ‘illegally removed’ is wrong.”
When he had first seen the Fabergé egg on YouTube long ago, one of the descriptions that had appeared in the status window was:
[Officially sold to a private buyer in New York by Antiquariat, the Soviet foreign-currency agency in 1922. However, the sale number was originally on the angel’s back, later completely concealed by a layer of enamel from the same era.]
It was information no one else knew.
Because he had seen it through the status window, Si-woo was certain.
All eyes turned to him.
Alexei frowned and asked, “What do you mean? It’s an artifact with no records. And no records mean it was either smuggled out or stolen.”
“It’s not that there are no records. We simply haven’t seen them.”
Rising from his seat, Si-woo walked to the main monitor where James Miller was standing.
“Chief Appraiser James Miller. Could you bring up the CT scan data you showed earlier again? Layer three, the surface layer.”
James Miller, looking puzzled, brought the image back up.
“Here.”
He pointed to the back of the angel.
“Look at the density graph in this area. It’s subtly irregular compared with the surroundings.”
Alexei adjusted his glasses and tilted his head.
“Isn’t that just a bubble? Nineteenth-century enamel work wasn’t perfect. Air got trapped during firing. You can find traces like this all over other pieces...”
“No. If it were a bubble, it would be closer to circular. But this is more linear in shape.”
At Si-woo’s words, the experts’ expressions changed.
“The Soviet government likely engraved the sale number there back then. Usually they used stickers, but for this Chariot and Angel Egg, they carved it directly into the back. Maybe there wasn’t a good place to affix a sticker. The Bolsheviks may have handled it carelessly, dismissing it as a capitalist luxury item. The buyer probably found that ugly and covered it over with enamel from the same period. Since the materials from that time were the same, the composition analysis wouldn’t catch it. And because the density was similar, it would have just looked like a cluster of bubbles on the CT scan.”
Si-woo spoke with certainty.
“But physical gaps don’t disappear. Chief Appraiser James Miller, increase the CT contrast to the limit. Leave only the pattern of the tiny air layer, not the enamel composition.”
“...You mean to say...”
James’s hands trembled as he worked the keyboard.
The red on the screen vanished.
Black-and-white noise filled the image.
He sliced out only the cross-section at a specific depth from the noise and adjusted the contrast.
Then it happened.
The shapes that had looked like blurry bubbles began to connect.
Disordered dots became lines, and the lines became letters.
A faint but unmistakable form emerged on the screen.
- N. 1922. A
“My God...”
James Miller let out a cry of astonishment.
Even with precision machinery, it had not been discernible.
“How... how on earth did you find that?”
Caroline asked in shock.
Si-woo shrugged.
“I was lucky.”
Alexei could only stare at him, mouth open, his expression utterly hollow.