Page 130 of The Encore’s Crown

Radhika smiles politely. “That’s very kind.”

“Everything. You’re incredible. Like, genuinely incredible. My mother loves you too. Not that you’re old enough for my mother to—God, that sounded terrible.”

She apologizes twice more, nods frantically at Radhika, then disappears into the crowd with as much dignity as she can recover while moving at that speed.

Ronan pulls the wet fabric away from his chest.

“Off to a great start lads and ladies. This is miserable. Cold as fuck.”

“You’ll survive,” Rafe says.

Ronan looks down at himself. “Didya know humans can’t actually feel wetness?”

Kasia's eyes widen.

Rithy slowly lowers his glass. “Normally Ronan's Science Hour bores me, but this I've got to hear. Explain.”

“We don’t have the receptors. Hydroreceptors or whatever the fuck they’re called. Not like spiders and shit. Your brain just figures it out from the change in texture and temperature.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, Ro. We all know you’ve never felt anything wet in your life. No need to make excuses.”

Rafe chokes. Champagne sprays back into his glass as he doubles over coughing. Rithy bends at the waist beside him, one hand braced on Ronan’s shoulder, the other trying to not spill his champagne. Kasia stands frozen with her mouth open for one stunned second before the laugh tears out of her. Radhika loses it beside me. Her head tips back as her hand lands on my arm to steady herself while Ronan stares at all of us with disgust.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He wipes uselessly at his shirt and points at me. “Fuck off.”

The laughter starts to settle. Radhika leans closer, champagne warm on her breath.

“That’s never been a problem for you,” she whispers.

I turn my head. She looks up at me over the rim of her glass. For once in my life, I have absolutely nothing to say. My brain empties. Radhika, a woman who shouldn't be willing to spit on me if I was on fire, saying something like that? Maybe it’s the champagne. I swallow and her eyes flick briefly to my mouth. Then something beyond her shoulder catches me.

Natalia.

She's sitting alone at the end of a long velvet couch, one leg crossed over the other, a drink balanced loosely in her hand. Her nails tap against the glass in a quiet, uneven rhythm. I know she's avoiding me. The deliberate angle of her face. The way she studies everyone who passes as if they are suddenly fascinating. She makes sure her attention lands everywhere except here.

At least Julian Mercer has left her alone. I’ve heard things about him. Nothing bad enough to destroy him or that anyone could likely prove. Assistants who quit abruptly. Young artists who stopped getting opportunities after refusing private meetings. Women warned not to drink too much around him, though no one ever seemed willing to explain why.

Industry shit. Rumors. The kind powerful men collect because everyone beneath them learns silence is better for their career.

I knock my knuckles lightly against Rithy’s arm while he's still laughing. He looks at me, my eyes dart toward her. His smile fades at the edges. Then he looks back at me and gives one small nod.

“I’ll rejoin you all in a moment,” Rithy says, placing his untouched champagne on the nearest table. “I have a mission.”

Radhika glances toward Natalia. “A mission?”

“To cheer up a miniature blonde Rottweiler.”

Kasia snorts. Rithy grabs two fresh drinks from a passing tray and starts across the room. Natalia notices him coming and immediately narrows her eyes. He drops onto the couch beside her and offers her one of the glasses. Whatever he says makes her scowl deepen, but she takes it. Radhika watches them for a moment, puzzled. Then she gestures toward Kasia.

“Tell me all about the wonderful…” She tilts her head. “Kasia, was it? Rafe tells me you're a doctor?”

Kasia nods. Rafe straightens as if someone has handed him a microphone and asked him to discuss his favorite subject.

“A retinal surgeon.”

It's the most impressed I've ever seen her. That's saying a lot for someone like Radhika.