They walked out of the bedroom and into the corridor. Then down the grand staircase, past the great hall, past the rooms she had begun to recognize. But they didn't stop there.
The scenery began to change.
The ornate tapestries gave way to bare stone. The warm torchlight grew dimmer, flickering in iron sconces that seemed older than the rest of the castle.
The air turned cooler.
Damp.
There was a smell—something metallic, something that made her stomach clench.
Iva's footsteps slowed.
"Caleb," she said carefully. "Where are we going?"
He didn't look back at her. His voice was flat when he spoke.
"The dungeon."
The word dropped between them like a stone into deep water.
Iva's blood turned to ice.
She wanted to stop. Wanted to pull her hand from his and run back up the stairs
