The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 138

"Of course, you'll also need a fixed commercial address and a formal lease agreement with the landlord."

Marta handed Annelise the paper, now covered front and back in notes.

"The process looks incredibly complex, but the local government is actually highly efficient. As long as you have all your paperwork in order, it'll go smoothly."

She patted Annelise's shoulder, giving her an encouraging look.

"The most important thing you need is patience."

From that day on, Annelise's life was consumed by two things.

Mornings and evenings, she acted like a sponge, frantically absorbing everything she could about the Norwegian language.

In the afternoons, she would throw on her thickest coat, wrap up in her hat and scarf, and traverse the streets and alleys of Oslo like an urban explorer.

Alyssa connected her with an experienced local expat lawyer to handle all the legal documents for the company's registration.

Meanwhile, Annelise poured all her energy into finding the perfect commercial space.

She walked through nearly every neighborhood in Oslo.

From the tourist-heavy city center to the upscale, residential enclaves.

Like a detective, she would post up outside any shop that caught her eye, spending the entire afternoon just watching.

She meticulously observed the foot traffic, noting the ages, outfits, and facial expressions of the passersby.

She would duck into the nearest café, order a cheap black coffee, and perk her ears to catch snippets of local conversation.

She carried a small notebook packed tight with analyses of every potential location.

Her criteria were actually quite simple.

First, it had to be a ground-floor storefront facing the street, complete with a generously sized display window.

Second, it had to be in an established residential area with at least one thriving café nearby.

Third, the rent had to fit within her carefully calculated budget.

One afternoon in her third week, the weather finally cleared up.

The thin winter sunlight coated the entire city in a faint, golden hue.

Annelise took the tram down to Grünerløkka.

It was one of Oslo's oldest and most artistic neighborhoods.

The streets were lined with colorful, preserved nineteenth-century buildings.

There were no mega-malls or massive chain stores here.

Instead, it was filled with quirky independent designer boutiques, vintage thrift stores, vinyl record shops, and cafes radiating the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

"Yes. Are you available right now?"

"Available? Absolutely."

The man's tone was incredibly upbeat. He fired off a few lines in rapid Norwegian, seemingly talking to someone next to him, before returning to her.

"I'm right around the corner. Give me ten minutes, I'll be right there."

Ten minutes later.

A tall man in a navy-blue chore coat rounded the corner on a slightly worn-out bicycle, braking right in front of Annelise.

He looked to be in his early thirties, with soft, dark-brown curls and a pair of eyes that caught the sunlight in a stunning shade of grayish-blue.

His jacket was dusted with a few white specks that looked like plaster.

He hopped off the bike, shoved a key into the lock, and extended a hand toward Annelise at the same time.

His hand was large, with distinct knuckles, and lightly dusted with grime.

"Yves Judd." He introduced himself clearly. "You can just call me Yves."

He looked at Annelise, a spark of curious amusement in his grayish-blue eyes.

Annelise froze. She stared at the man in front of her. Visually, he was a textbook, quintessential Scandinavian, yet he had effortlessly dropped his name in flawless English.