Chapter 22

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Part 3

Belgrade, 1880

Enid pushed open the large iron doors of the old monastery, it wasn't a place she ever expected to find herself.

The monks who lived here abandoned the building many, many years ago when the Turks appeared, rather than face beheading. This one sat empty for so long the city had no use for it. To rebuild it into something useful wasn't something they wished to embark on, lucky for Enid.

They did however want to see it in use, cheaply. When Enid made an appointment with the official in charge of public buildings, within five minutes of their meeting he invited her to dinner. She took that as an excellent sign she would get what she wanted. A library.

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She was meeting Stevan at Zlatni Bokal, one of the many inns on the Skadarska ulica. It was a long curved street with rough, and bumpy cobblestones. She liked to watch the other women as they tried to walk along it without stumbling. She couldn't do it herself, so she walked slowly.

The atmosphere was quaint. Flower baskets hung from every possible outcropping, as well as from the iron lamps, which flickered in the evening air. A large weeping willow sheltered diners at the Golden Chalice, offering privacy and a romantic setting.

The street itself was full of people, but it never felt crowded. Everyone looked relaxed and happy, strolling the streets. Many were eating and drinking at the many outdoor tables. Small groups of musicians moved through the crowd, strumming their instruments and singing soothing melodies.

This was the gypsy quarter until recently, when many of the cities writers and artists moved in. Now it was the place to be. Enid thought it an odd, open place for a clandestine meeting. She assumed Stevan didn't mind entertaining a beautiful woman, no matter the purpose.

Enid learned early on in life, her looks mattered. She was told often she had grown into a beautiful woman. Her golden brown hair was long and soft. Her eyes big and blue with long dark lashes. She took care to always look her best, but not from an over inflated ego. Being beautiful to her was like being right handed. Chance alone made her that way, she didn't earn it so she found no sense of accomplishment in it.

She used her beauty in the way she used her legs or arms, as a tool. Being beautiful wasn't something she took pride in, for at times it was a curse. It was something to be wielded like a sword, or a pencil. People liked to look at beautiful things, wished to possess them. She let them think they could own her too, but no one ever held her for long. So it was with Stevan. An evening of lust for a library; it was a small price to pay.

Dinner was simple but delicious. Breaded pork, fried, and stuffed with kajmak, a creamy Serbian cheese. Roast potatoes and fresh cabbage salad.

The oil lanterns quivered in the room, casting an amber glow over the wood panelled walls.

"I was hoping to use the old monastery at Kalemegdan. It's central to the city and close to the market. They already have a small store of books that were left behind, as well as many tables and bookshelves. Our expenses should be kept to a minimum, don't you agree?" She smiled at him, sipping her wine and playing her part.

Stevan smiled back, watching the candle light flicker in her eyes and reached over to stroke her arm.

"I agree it would be good for the people. We should be promoting the Serbian culture once again, books filled with Cyrillic, written by Serbian authors."

Enid nodded in agreement, grasping his hand.

"What a wonderful idea. Of course you're right; an educated population is a powerful one. Would you say a worldly population is important as well?"

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