His parents might have brought him here in hopes of securing further social advantage, and Victor’s parents might have brought him here in hopes of securing further socialization for their own troubled son. But Henry?

Henry was here to have fun.

“I like him,” I whispered to Victor. “He is silly. We should keep him.”

Henry held up a length of tattered purple velvet and squinted as though imagining Victor wearing it as a cape. “Victor should be king. He has that regal quality about him. He is far handsomer than I, and looks smarter, too.”

“And he likes you,” I whispered, nudging Victor with my elbow. He had gone silent and still as soon as I said I liked Henry. “So he is at least a little bit intelligent.”

Victor gave me a half smile, apparently mollified. I let Henry dress me as a queen, and Victor deigned to be king. That afternoon, we put on a short play for our delighted parents. I stood between the two boys, resplendent in fake finery, ebullient with real joy.

If I could not go to school, Victor’s going was the next best thing.

—

Professor Waldman, our next stop, had a bland but perfectly symmetrical face and clothes with the precise tailoring of a man who cared about appearances. He had been far more highly regarded than Professor Krempke by Victor in his letter, but he had a similar report. After a flurry of demands on his time and his studies, he had not heard from Victor in more than a year. He did not remember whether another young man had come looking for Victor because he had neither the time nor the patience for such a thing—nor, clearly, did he have the time or the patience for two silly girls asking about a promising student who had so deeply disappointed him by disappearing.

“Perhaps you should check the gambling dens, the tavern back rooms, or the bottom of the river,” Professor Waldman said meanly. “We seem to lose quite a lot of men to those.” He shut the door without ceremony in our faces. An ugly and tarnished brass knocker sneered at me, mocking my failure.

I vowed that if we were not locked in that night, I would return and throw a rock through his window.

Justine trembled, lifting a hand to her forehead and ducking so her hat would hide some of her expression. “Elizabeth, I am so sorry. We tried. I know how you have worried, but I do not think we should stay here. We have no more information to go on. If Victor—when Victor—wants to be found, he will write. You said yourself he is unpredictable and can descend into moods that last for months.”

I shook my head, clenching my jaw. I had worked too hard, too long, to give up now. I had spent my entire life being what Victor needed.