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“So why did you not make something up?” Gregor snapped. He had not made such steady
progress on his own beer and Vlad’s, he noticed, sat completely untouched. No man in Russia could
outdrink Filip Orlov, especially when he began before noon, so there was probably no reason to try
and keep pace with him in a show of solidarity. “Just say the first name that came to your mind?”
“I am not good at making things up,” Vlad said, refusing to meet either of the older men’s eyes.
“But why is it forbidden for me to confer with Mabrey just because he is English? Cooper vouched
for him and neither of you thought anything of it two or three days ago. Meanwhile Filip here is in
consort with British policemen, inviting the Queen’s private guard to sweat with him in the saunas.”
“An entirely different matter,” Gregor said with a wave of his hand.
“Yes,” said Filip. “For I am, you see, quite good at making things up.”
If possible, Vlad’s flush grew even deeper, mottling his pale skin and, to his horror, even his
eyes were beginning to water. Gregor and Filip had never been so openly displeased with him, and
his disgrace could not have come at a worse time. Not now, on the day they had decided they must
make their move. He had been the one to point out that the dress rehearsal would be the perfect time
to snatch Xenia. For while she - and indeed everyone else involved with the presentations for the
ball- would be in their appointed places, the absence of an audience would mean that the theater
would be relatively unguarded.
“Davy is a nothing, a mere messenger boy,” Vlad said, when he had regained his composure
enough to trust his voice. “The odds are that he does not even know the detective you met in the
gentlemen’s enclave.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Gregor said. “They all came over on the same boat.”
“Here is the first rule of revolution,” Filip said, seemingly either unaware or uncaring about the
slight crust of foam that was forming within his mustache. “Assume that everyone knows everyone.
Assume that the woman on the bench is the sister of the man stepping off the train. Assume the grocer
is the lover of the woman in his shop and while you are at it, assume that he is also the lover of the
man getting off the train because the world is full of its surprises. This I know, comrades.”
Gregor grimaced and turned to Vlad. “If this messenger boy of yours happens to see Filip
within the palace –“
“He won’t. He said he won’t be anywhere near the ball and I believe him.”
“Then let’s hope he’s not one of the ones who are good at making things up,” Filip said, shaking