Briony was deep in conversation with Ferdinand when she suddenly caught Rosita''s gaze. She hesitated, turning her head.
Their eyes met. Rosita curled her lips in a faint, almost dismissive smile, then turned back to respond gently to the guest beside her, as if nothing had happened.
Briony watched her, her eyes cool and unreadable.
Ferdinand leaned in, lowering his voice. "What''s wrong?"
Briony pulled her gaze away. "It''s nothing," she replied softly.
Ferdinand nced briefly at Rosita, then looked back to Briony.
Briony slouched against the back of her camping chair, expression nk as Rosita chatted easily with the other guests.
But behind Rosita''s serene eyes, Briony saw something darker-a simmering resentment.
Ferdinand''s attention drifted to Mary, who caught his eye. She raised an elegant brow, a silent question passing between them before he looked away.
The other guests were clustered around Rosita, eager for her attention.
Lately, Rosita had been basking in the limelight. Although she imed she''d been feeling under the weather, her radiant features didn''t show it.
Before returning home, she''d taken a special overseas trip, spending tens of thousands on some high-endser treatment; now, her skin was in the best shape it had ever been. Even without makeup, she truly deserved her reputation as the nation''s sweetheart.
The women looked on, quietly envious; the men, visibly impressed.
On top of her recenteback, Rosita''s renewed poprity made everyone even more eager to chat with her.
She was soaking up every second, her earlier worries about being exposed now a distant memory.
The production team had set out cocktails for everyone-not too strong, and surprisingly tasty.
Ferdinand leaned over to Briony. "Do you drink?"
She nced at the peach cocktail in his hand. "I can," she said quietly.
Her alcohol tolerance wasn''t great, but she could handle a little cocktail.
Ferdinand opened a peach-vored one for her, poured it into a ss, and handed it over.
Briony took it with a quiet "Thank you."
Ferdinand didn''t make a big deal of it—just offered her a gentle smile and poured himself a ss as well.
Soft music drifted through the evening air. With a little alcohol in their systems, everyone loosened up, the conversation flowing more easily.
Tony stepped forward, offering Rosita a ss of warm water. "Ms. Lockwood, you''re not feeling well-you shouldn''t be drinking."
"Thank you," Rosita replied with a gentle smile. "It''s probably just all thete-night filmingtely. I''ve got a bit of a headache, but it''s an old problem. I''m used to it."
"Ms. Lockwood, everyone knows how professional you are on set, Tony said. "And I heard this is a big production-lots of scenes that require real expertise. That must be quite the challenge."
Rosita smiled at Driscoll. "The crew and director have put a lot of heart into this project. Compared to my previous roles, this one involves much more traditional culture, which definitely makes filming harder. But the upside is, working with the director and all these veterans, I get to learn so much more."
"Ms. Lockwood, you''re being too modest," Mary chimed in, her smile sweet as ever. "But I heard you already know a lot about music, so this kind of role shouldn''t be that hard for you, right?"
Rosita''s smile faltered for just a moment.
She turned to look at Mary.
Mary was still smiling, bright and sweet-but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"I''ve studied a bit, but I''m really not that skilled," Rosita replied, her voice vague.
"Oh,e on, Ms. Lockwood!" Maryughed, waving her hand. "If you can write such beautiful music, there''s no way you''re not skilled!"
Rosita pressed her lips together, suddenly lost for words.
The other guests seemed confused.
Driscoll asked, "Miss Mary, what are you talking about? I''m lost."
Mary feigned surprise, ncing around at everyone. "Wait, you all don''t know? Have you heard of Ottilie, that breakout singer everyone''s been talking about onlely?"