“What exactly are you looking for, Boss?” My right hand, Lafayette, walks into the room. “If you don’t hurry up and tell me, I’ll have to ask the asylum doctor pay you a visit.”

“There’s no need for that.” I turn around. “Tell me how a beautiful girl could live in this village without ever being listed in the records. How she could be here without leaving a single trace of her existence?”

“If she’s a bastard child or an orphan who was abandoned by a spinster, it’s possible.” He strokes his chin. “The only other way is if someone didn’t want to pay taxes on her, but… That’s unlikely. I keep fairly good records, and my list of beautiful girls is complete.”

“It can’t be if the woman I’m searching for isn’t on it.”

“Okay.” He shrugs. “I’m calling the doctor.”

“Maybe she came from another kingdom…” I move toward the end of the shelf, pulling out other books, making other requests.

“Um, with all due respect, and as fun as this little game seems, we’re running out of time, G’aston.” His voice is now faint. “You promised that you would focus on freeing us from this hell more than ever this year.”

“That’s what I’m doing, Lafayette…”

“You should be upstairs, making an effort with the Swan,” he says. “The curse doesn’t just affect you, and if you’d stayed upstairs a little longer, you would’ve seen that you two have a lot in common.”

I highly doubt that. “Did you ask her if she likes to read?”

“I did.” He nods. “She’s not the slightest bit interested in books, so you won’t have to worry about her having an untamed mouth, and her thoughts won’t be polluted with nonsense.”

“Sounds like she has a lot in common with you.”

He ignores my comment. “She also enjoys hunting and looking for new adventures in the woods. Those things alone sound very promising, in my opinion. What do you say?”

I want to tell him she’s a waste of my time, but a sudden applause sifts through the floorboards above.

“Hoorahhhh!” The men exclaim, a sign that someone has ordered a round of drinks for everyone.

“You can request a private meeting with her and her father,” I say.

“For tomorrow?”

“If you insist, Lafayette.”

“I do. Thank you.” He rushes toward the staircase.

I don’t have the heart to tell him that the woman is obviously lying about a love for hunting. Her hands are as dainty as dandelion petals, and her legs are far too wispy for anything other than swimming.

She’s like all the other maidens in this town—willing to say “Yes” to any man with money or prestige—all for the sake of marriage.

Still, just to be sure, I grab one last catalogue from the shelf and return to the tavern.

Amidst the singing and dancing, I move behind my bartering table and unlock the top left drawer.

Pushing aside papers, I uncover one of my rose blooms.