Isla’s gaze snaps to his.“I’m not going to change my mind.”
Callum nods and gathers the note, tucking it carefully into the folder.When he hands it to her, his fingers brush hers.The contact is brief, but it lands like an echo.
Her breath catches.
His does too.
Neither of them speaks.
They move through the castle together, not side by side like companions, but close enough that Callum is constantly aware of her.The corridors are colder in the north wing, the stone damp with age.The air smells faintly of dust and old secrets.
Isla glances up at the high ceilings, the narrow windows, the shadows pooled in corners.“This part feels… forgotten.”
“It mostly is,” Callum says.“No reason to come here unless you’re avoiding something.”
Isla’s mouth tightens.“Or looking for it.”
Callum leads her down a narrower corridor, one he rarely uses, to an old tapestry that hangs heavy and faded.Behind it, half hidden, is a door.
Iron lock.Thick hinges.The kind of door that isn’t meant for casual entry.
“This is it,” Callum says.
Isla steps closer, studying the lock.“Keir kept this locked?”
“Always.”
She turns to him.“And you never opened it.”
Callum feels the question beneath her words:Why did you respect his boundaries when he never respected mine?
“I didn’t,” Callum admits.“Because it wasn’t my place.”
Isla’s eyes search his face.“Everything in this castle is your place.”
Callum swallows.“Not this.”
Isla holds his gaze a moment longer, then nods once as if accepting the answer without forgiving it.
Callum pulls out the keyring Keir kept in his nightstand.He tries one key.Nothing.
Another.Still nothing.
Isla shifts impatiently, arms folded.“Of course, it wouldn’t be easy.”
Callum suppresses a grim smile.“Keir didn’t like easy.”
He pauses, then selects a thinner key, unmarked, one he almost overlooked.
It turns.
The lock gives with a soft, reluctant click.
Isla exhales like she didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath.
Callum pushes the door open.It groans on old hinges, sound echoing down the corridor.
Inside, the room is dim and cold.He flicks on the light switch and it shows that dust coats everything.Shelves line the walls, stacked with boxes and trunks and old cases, the air thick with neglect.It smells of damp stone and paper left too long.
