The next day’s shooting schedule is trimmed down to account for Victor’s absence. Viv doesn’t remember what had been on the original schedule, but she knows that she was supposed to have dialogue. The day script that waits for her when she gets to her trailer in the morning has a big red NO DIALOGUE scrawled on the front. As she flicks through the few pages of stage directions she begins to see why this scene is easier to shoot than what Victor had planned. Bob is good at composing a scene, Viv has watched him do it. He can handle this.

Viv isn’t sorry not to have lines. It’s another scorching day, and she’s already sweating by the time all the parts of her costume are in place, and her head is covered in the Empress’s elaborate headdress.

The few spoken lines they do have to film today are between the Emperor and Reymund. The scene is from halfway through the story, and it’s just a routine exchange, nothing pivotal. This is a good way to ease a new actor into his part. If the first scene they ever commit to film is a bit off, then it’s best to bury it somewhere in the middle, when the audience is already caught up in the story.

During their first break, Viv overhears one of the production assistant telling another that Damien arrived early, to meet with the costume department, and then get introduced to everyone else. Viv pretends that she isn’t looking out for him, but when he finally appears on set halfway through the morning there’s a flutter in her stomach.

Costume have done a great job with Damien. He has to be boiling in the black, atavistic-looking armor he wears for his first ever scene, but you’d never know it. He nails his lines, is courteous to everyone, and even makes Bob smile, which is no mean feat. Nominally, Bob was hired as second-unit director, if they ever have a second unit. In reality, he’s just someone Victor took a liking to and brought along to help with scene composition. Bob’s background is stage directing, and he’s got a good eye for setting up shots with many people. But being at the helm of a production of this magnitude is several sizes too big for him. Nevertheless, the first day goes well enough, in no small part thanks to Damien fitting right in with the rest of the cast and crew.

Today, Viv doesn’t mind watching the other actors perform. Her mood couldn’t be more different from the day before. She may not have any lines, but she’s in all the scenes, standing next to Luke in his splendid Emperor costume, looking glamorous in a gold-filigreed brocade dress. She doesn’t even mind that she still sweats like a pig. A light wind picks up a couple of hours in and makes the heat almost bearable and makes her hair flutter prettily. All eyes are on her, and she is very aware of Damien’s fleeting looks of appreciation, which are especially gratifying.

The makeup and costume assistants flit around, fussing with headdresses, armor, and makeup to powder over sweaty noses and ensure continuity. Bob has a keen eye for things that are out of place. For a geeky, lumbering, overweight guy he’s surprisingly fastidious.

They’re ahead of schedule when lunchtime rolls around. Somehow, Viv finds herself next to Damien as Bob announces a two-hour break. “Oh good, I’m starving!” Damien says, grimacing at Viv. He holds out his arm for her. “Be my table companion for lunch.” Viv takes the offered arm, and as they make their way toward the large cast and crew mess tent Viv catches sight of Stef, hovering near the edges of the set. She ignores her assistant, but the girl hurries after them.

“Uh,” Stef says in a trembling voice, “Do you want your frozen melon? I’ve arranged for it in the trailer…”

Viv shushes her. “I’m going to the mess tent for lunch. Bring me my phone, oh, and the Perrier.” There won’t be French sparkling water on the main buffet; Victor isn’t that generous with the foot soldiers.

Looking confused, Stef hurries away, but Damien and Viv are waylaid again at the entrance to the mess tent. A couple of very young set assistants wait there, and when Damien passes them they ask him for an autograph and a selfie in shaking voices. Damien obliges, signing their crew hats, taking pictures with each girl and chatting.

“They shouldn’t be doing that, it’s unprofessional,” Viv says, frowning, when he finally breaks away from the girls and holds the tent flap open for her. “I’ll get Victor to tell their team leader.”

“No, please don’t do that,” Damien says, waving at the girls before letting the tent flap close. “I don’t mind. It’s our fans that got us where we are, isn’t it?”

“Sure, sure,” Viv agrees when she sees how serious he looks. But privately she shakes her head. Hard work and a bit of luck with her genes, that’s what got her where she is, not some overexcited fans who adore the ground she walks on.

Damien motions at the buffet that’s set up against the flimsy tent wall. “Let’s get lunch. I’m famished!”

He’s still wearing Reymund’s black, silken shirt and black pantaloons, but the costume department have freed him of the chain mail cum body armor. As Viv stands behind him in line for the food, she can’t help but stare at his wide shoulders and watch the muscles ripple under his shirt.

“What would you like to eat?” he asks, and Viv pulls her attention from the beginnings of a vivid daydream.

“Huh?” she says.

“A bit of everything?” Damien suggests.

Viv nods, not caring. “Sure.”

Damien hands her a plate and starts filling it with more food than Viv eats in a week. Feeling dazed, she lets him do it without protest.

They take their plates of salad, fresh fruit and light canapes to the tables. Bob waves at them and points at two chairs by his side. Damien makes a beeline for their interim director.

“Special treat,” Bob beams when they sit down. He points to his own two plates, the second of which is heaped with cake and ice cream. “Victor okayed some extra catering budget while he’s away. Guess he wants y’all to like me.” He laughs at his own joke and winks at Viv. She’s amazed how free Bob seems today. Usually he blushes every time she comes into his line of sight and can barely talk to her. Being in charge seems to have given Bob a boost.

“Don’t feed us like this every day, though.” Damien grins and takes a huge bite of cake. “That chainmail doesn’t stretch. But it’s a nice welcome celebration.”

As they eat, Damien and Bob talk shop. Viv listens as they go over the scene they’ve just done, and Bob takes Damien through the set-up for the afternoon. Viv doesn’t say anything. She eats a piece of melon, then another one, all the while acutely aware of Damien’s thigh pressing against hers.