The Perfect Ball is said never to mark, slow, lose pressure or deviate. It is a remarkable object to describe and an awkward one to let out of its case.
Some believe it began as satire about flawless readings. Others remember replicas presented as proof of pure lineage. The same boast can be funny in one telling and quite expensive in another.
In the display-case scene, a visitor asks to try it. The keeper replies that removing it would spoil its perfection. Outside the glass, an ordinary scuffed ball waits without making any claims.
The Sun, the White Court and the Pure Reading lend brightness to the exhibit. None authenticates it. A reader, player or deck cannot be ranked by distance from wear, as though contact with the world were a form of corruption.
The inventory keeps the Perfect Ball among rejected relics. It can remain a fine story under glass. The ball outside the case has other things to do.