suggested—a young girl.
“I’m looking for a match,” the girl said, her eyes fixed on his face. “Not a match that would satisfy most women, but one that will satisfy me. I think you might be it.”
He smiled back. “What makes you say that? You know nothing about me at all. I might be here for any reason.”
“Let me test myself. Tell me if I am wrong in what I surmise. You are a sorcerer. You possess great power, but you use it sparingly. You are very smart, but not reckless. You are not happy with your life at the moment, but you think you might be able to change that soon.”
“Very good,” he admitted. “I congratulate you on your perceptiveness. But I am not looking to make a match.”
Her smile did not waver. “Perhaps you are and you don’t realize it. Most men don’t know what they need. Most men don’t even realize the depth of their need. They think of satisfying basic instincts that are shallow and temporary, and that is enough for them. But we don’t believe that at Rare Flowers. We are taught otherwise. Men need a companion who is their equal, and a match in the true sense of the word. They require a someone who can offer strength where they are weakest and support where they most miss it.”
“And what do young girls like yourself require?”
“Security and hope. Kindness and honesty. For young girls like myself, as you put it, a true match is never achieved in hours or days or even years; it is achieved over the course of a lifetime. Commitment is the means by which we attain it. Commitment is a journey that works best when each step taken is carefully measured.”
“Pretty words. How is it that one so young has reached these complex conclusions? You seem very insightful.”
“I am pleased you think so. Would you like to hear my story?”
He was enjoying this. He hoped Corussin wouldn’t resurface right away. “Please. Tell it to me.”
“I am the child of Rovers, a chieftain’s daughter. Not a firstborn child, but one younger. When you are not firstborn, you have little worth in our culture. Mostly, in the eyes of our parents, we serve as marriage material. My father sought to match me with a rug seller in exchange for a few of his wares and some gold. I decided not to agree, so he threw me out. I took my leave of him and of my people and set out for the Southland. I quickly discovered how difficult it is for a girl of fifteen to make her way in the world. A few hard lessons and a few narrow escapes followed, and six months ago I found myself on the doorstep of Rare Flowers, asking Corussin for a place. I was taken in. I learned the things I needed to know fairly quickly. Now I search for a match. But the men with whom I have interviewed have failed to measure up to my requirements.”
She was bold to tell him this, making her offer of a match more like a challenge than a request. But he had already decided she knew more than she was letting on. No one this young could be anywhere near as prescient as she seemed to be. She was Corussin’s choice; the proprietor of Rare Flowers must have had her in mind all along. Now he had dispatched her to him, wanting her to demonstrate how clever and manipulative she could be. He would have told her about him first, of course, giving her just enough information to act on when she found him. But it was no coincidence that she was here.
Still, he admired her greatly and thought she might do.
“What if I were to offer you a temporary match with someone besides myself?” he asked. “I would take you with me and pay you very well for your time and trouble.”
She shook her head. “I am not interested in anyone else. I am interested in you.”
“But I told you I am not looking for a match.”
“And I told you that sometimes men don’t know what they are looking for. I suggest that you reconsider.”
He was perplexed. He had expected her to jump at his offer. She was staring at him with frank but unyielding determination. She was not going to back down, he realized.
“You are too young for me,” he tried. “I am more than twice your age. I would be old and useless before