He doesn't bristle. That would be stupid. Desi does however hold her eye even as he tips his face away to blow smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Does that glass of yours see enchantments, Messere? I've heard rings are easily cursed."

Rossi's brother's cousin-in-law has set the ring down on the square of velvet cloth laid alongside his tools. The magnified glass is fit back into its little case. Click. "No, the piece is quite ordinary. Er—magically speaking, I mean."

"Strange."

Maybe someone ought to have their finger checked. But not by the jeweler, who is bowing his head very studiously to the task of filling out the requisite scrip and stuffing it into an envelope.