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Still, I follow the urge, grasping at the thin thread of an idea as I continue to search the wall. When my fingers skirt over deeper grooves in the stone, they seem to take a familiar shape.

“Lachlan,” I call. “I think there might be a door here.”

“Maybe you are a bloody hound,” Lachlan mutters, coming up behind me.

I probably shouldn’t laugh at that, but one tumbles out of me anyway. I shove my shoulder against the wall and push, but absolutely nothing happens.

“Guess it was a long shot,” I mumble. I glance at Lachlan over my shoulder. “Can you…?”

“Yeah. Stand back.”

He flattens himself against the wall, clenching his jaw as he starts to push. The tendons in his neck pop out when he shoves on the old stone with all his strength, and after a moment, there are creaking sounds from the other side before awhooshof air—and then the wall swings open.

“Seems you’re good for something too,” I laugh.

He rolls his eyes, something I can make out even in the thin light. He bends at the waist when the hidden door widens to a large enough crack to slip through, gesturing out an arm.

“After you, Your Highness.”

Yep, that’s still kind of annoying.

There is a staircase on the other side of the door, narrow and curved as it moves upward, and as I step through the stone that hid the opening, I notice rusted, broken chains on the ground that are still looped through thick hooks embedded in the other side of the door.

I bend, picking up a thick iron lock, rubbing my thumb across the keyhole.

“He really didn’t want her to get out,” I note.

“Aye,” Lachlan says. “Seems that way.” I feel him bend beside me, crouching. “Look.” He points at the broken chain, noting the linkthat’s pulled apart. “The rust on this link is auld. Hasn’t been disturbed.”

“So?”

“So this chain was broken centuries ago.”

“So…he really did help her escape. My ancestor.”

He stares at the broken link for several seconds. “They say he fell in love with her while she was a prisoner. That he stole back her bridle and used it to set her free.”

If it weren’t for all the cursing business, I might almost say that was romantic. I don’t think Lachlan would agree, so I keep the thought to myself. I’m quiet as he continues to stare at the chain for another long moment, watching as he finally shakes his head and drops it to the ground.

“We should get out of here,” he says. “If we want to make it back before sundown.”

“Oh. Right.”

He brushes past me to climb the stairs, and I hurry to follow, watching as he reaches the landing and tugs on a thick iron handle that is embedded into the wall. I can hear the groaning of some mechanism on the other side, aclank clanksound of gears grinding before the door opens and reveals the room I’d fallen through with the beautiful window.

Lachlan helps me around the yawning hole with my hand in his, and I try not to think about his hands on other parts of my body as I carefully step across the rotten wood planks to more stable footing in the center of the room. I watch as Lachlan eyes the window, and then the door, and then the hole—shaking his head incredulously all the while.

“I can’t believe this was here the entire time.”

“To be fair,” I tell him, “it was really well hidden.”

“But…if I’d found it sooner…”

“Then what? We didn’t find anything down there but a rusted bed and some old carvings.”

He scrubs his hand down his face. “I don’t know. Maybe it would have meant something to my da. Maybe he could have—”

“Lachlan.” I step closer, lifting my hand to cup his cheek so I can force him to look at me. “There was nothing you could have done differently. You were just a kid, remember?”