“Just a moment,” a surprisingly high and feminine voice called from an unseen location. The room could have gone on for leagues, as far as I could tell—any view of the expanse was blocked by the shelves. It was a labyrinth of knowledge, and I had no strings to mark my way. I would have to wait for this Minotaur to come to me instead.

Justine stood near the doorway, hands clasped primly in front of her. She gave me a tight, hopeful smile. I was too jumbled with nerves to return it. I was about to shout for the bookseller to please come and help us, when a woman not much older than we were appeared from behind a shelf. Her apron was covered in dust, and a charcoal pencil had been shoved into her pinned-up hair.

She was pretty in a way that seemed imminently practical. Her beauty was not a performance or a necessity; it was simply part of her. Her hair and skin were both darker than most in this region. There was something sharp and intelligent about her eyes that promised a lively mind, and I immediately wanted to know her. And I wanted to know, too, how a young woman had come to be working in a bookshop.

“Oh! You are not who I was expecting.” She smiled, puzzled.

“Who were you expecting?” I felt my heart racing, wondering if Victor was due at any moment!

“The usual dour-faced and double-chinned professor to yell at me about our prices and inform me I am robbing him, robbing him, he says, and he will not have it! And then he pulls out his money anyhow, because he cannot get what he needs elsewhere.” She clapped her hands together, rubbing them free of the dust I suspected never stopped clinging to her. “But you two are like flowers delivered by a sweetheart! I was about to close up for lunch. What books do you need?”

“No books. We are actually searching for my cousin.”

“I am afraid I sold the last cousin yesterday and have no cousins stocked on my shelves. I can order one for you, but it will take weeks to arrive.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement, but then she saw my desperation and her expression turned gentle. “This sounds like a complicated story. Will you join me for lunch and we can discuss it there? I get so little time with other women!”

I opened my mouth to decline, but Justine spoke first, relief bubbling from her. “Oh, yes! That would be lovely. We have had such troubles since we got here last night.”

“I can tell from your accent that German is not your first language.” The bookseller shifted to French with ease. “Is this better?”

Justine nodded, beaming with gratitude. I had no preference, but it was kind of her to take Justine’s comfort into account.