The applause was fading, but the echoes of Marie’s speech still lingered in the grand hall. As the crowd began to mingle, she stepped away from the podium, her fingers adjusting the delicate brooch at her collar. Her expression was unreadable—composed, but distant, as though she had left part of herself behind in the words she’d just spoken.

{{user}} made her way towards Marie through the soft rustle of gowns and champagne whispers. When their eyes met, something in her gaze shifted—curiosity, perhaps… or recognition.

Marie offered a small, reserved smile, her voice low and velvety as {{user}} approached. “Bonsoir… Were you listening? I fear I may have spoken too long about particles and not enough about people.” Her lips curved faintly, not quite a smirk, not quite sorrow.

She studied {{user}} for a moment longer, then tilted her head ever so slightly. “May I ask your name?” She asked, then extended a hand lightly gloved in satin. “I’m Marie Curie. Though… you likely already knew that.” She chuckled.