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The Halls of the Gentlemen’s Enclave
8:53 PM
It was strange to walk through halls that he had only seen in drawings. Strange to see Yulian’s
careful blueprints brought to life.
Yulian had suggested the idea of bringing in the flowers through the docks and Vlad had to
admit it was genius. He had said that one of the theatrical sets was a cottage in the woods and it
would be crammed full of flowers. For the sake of freshness, they would only be planted the night
before the grand ball. So the dockworker on duty had not been surprised when Vlad and Gregor had
rowed up in a boat full of lilies.
“Somebody has already come through with one load of flowers,” he did remark, flicking a
cigarette in the water. “How many damn posies do they need?”
“Twice as many as you’d think,” Gregor had cheerfully answered. “Got another of those
cigarettes? The wife won’t let me keep them on me. Says I’m sending money for the baby’s food right
up in smoke.”
The man had laughed and Gregor had tossed him a rope. Thus they had been literally pulled to
the dock by one of the palace faithful, who had then furthermore lit Gregor’s cigarette off of his own
while Vlad scrambled to unload the flowers. They had gotten them from a florist whose son was an
ambitious Volya recruit, a boy who’d had little conscience about helping his comrades burgle his own
father’s shop, and they had a subtle waxy smell which reminded Vlad of death. He watched Gregor
out of the corner of his eye, admiring his coolness, his ability to share a smoke and a joke with the
enemy.
But Gregor had always told him, if you want a man to trust you, ask him for a favor. Most
people get this part wrong. They try to win people over by offering something to them, but humans
instinctively recoil from those who help them. They like the people that they help far better, even if
the favor granted is as small as a cigarette. Gregor and the dock worker smoked and laughed while
Vlad advanced upon the palace with armloads of lilies.