It was possible that his timidity and reserve weren’t just for show. The first four takes came out flawlessly; Chaudhuri re­quested they try again from a couple of different angles, but The Throne was off to a rocking start. A subdued thrill was running through the crew, like a shared fever. Crew knew immediately when they held on to a winner. Crew recognized talent. They recognized it now. Andrée, waiting on the sidelines for her cue, had her mouth set in a curious frown. Chaud­huri’s face was grave. Across the set, actors and DAs and cam­era crew were all looking at Chris. Nicholas was looking too: the trouble was looking away. Chris was enthralling. His Angelo was by turns infuriating and lovely, selfish to the point of loss and charming to the point of disbelief—his hands nervous, his body active and mobile, his face changing emotion in a flash. Nicholas kept breaking off, catching onto a different thread of action, meeting Chris’s motion with his own. Like a dance. He wasn’t used to being led. But this was not quite like being led. It was moving in one direction, and finding the movement echoed in another body. It was like…