The next few days were extremely boring. With Knight no longer following a respectful step behind her but now standing directly at her elbow, Autumn visited the interior of Castle Evil, as promised. She went slowly, not wanting to rush one of the few activities that would occupy her two months here. They proceeded methodically, room by room, examining every inch of the place. Tapestries were lifted in search of secret passageways. Drawers were opened and their content inspected. Books were paged through.

It took them three days just to clear the ground floor. In her defence, they spent a lot of time in the library, trying to understand King Eltanin’s deranged sorting system. Eventually, Autumn recognized a manuscript that she had seen in her youth, and she realized that the king must have put down everything that the Prairies had sent to him on the shelves haphazardly. She had to resist the urge to rearrange all the books, but as that would take her far more than a few days, it was a task better set aside for later.

As they continued their tour, Autumn noticed many more items that the King had likely received as tribute, and most of them seemed to have simply been placed down anywhere that there had been space for it, without concern for organization or even for the value of the objects themselves. It was infuriating to see how little the man cared about the Prairies and their attempts to reach him in good faith. Not only that, but he only appeared to have kept the things that were in shades of black or dark grey. She could find no trace of anything more colourful. Every room that she visited was boring, and hiding not a single evil secret. There were no locked doors behind which laid horrors, no nefarious-looking trunks with a missing key, and no enchanted mirrors from which she could hear the screams of the damned. It was just a normal castle, with normal — albeit frustratingly monochromatic — furniture.

No horrible secrets. She just couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

“And we… want to find such a thing?” asked Knight after they had cleared the second floor — all of it aside from the King’s chambers, that is — and they were preparing to head up into one of the towers.

“Yes!” she said, gathering her skirts up in one hand in order to climb the particularly steep-looking stairwell. She held the other palm out and Knight dutifully offered her his elbow.

“Why?”

“It would make me feel better, to start.”

“It would?”

“Look,” she felt compelled to explain in the face of his befuddlement. “He is an evil wizard. He has to have evil wizard secrets, it stands to reason! I’d just like to know what they are before I marry him.”

Knight considered this, giving it the same serious weight as he always gave to everything she said.

“But why would he have secrets?” he finally questioned. “Who would he be hiding them from?”

“From his potential brides! See, the fairy tales all follow a similar pattern, which must mean that there is a grain of truth in them! The story goes: a princess is betrothed to a mysterious but evil man, often a wizard. There is a room where he tells her not to go, or a chest that she isn’t supposed to open, or she is not allowed to look at him.”

“Why wouldn’t she be allowed to look at him?”

“Because of a terrible secret! That he’s hiding under a— a mask or something. Anyhow, the point is that the princess inevitably disobeys him and finds out his evil secret. Then, he tries to kill her about it!”

“I see. And, just to clarify, you want this to happen... before the wedding?”

Autumn froze in the middle of the stairwell. “So. I agree that there might be a flaw in my plan,” She eventually conceded. “Regardless, whatever horrible thing he is hiding, I would rather know as soon as possible.”

They resumed climbing the stairs.

“Assuming that he is hiding something.”

“He is. He has to be! After all, he’s keeping me locked inside his castle. The least he could do is have some interesting secrets for me to find!”

“You’re right. It would be rude of him not to.”

She shot him a look, unamused, but Knight was a master in the art of arranging his face into a perfectly bland expression that never betrayed what he was thinking.

***

They found the sunroom at the top of the southeast tower, as promised. It was lovely, if clearly disused, and the sight of black furniture in a place meant to be bright and cheerful annoyed her beyond reason. Autumn brushed her fingers over the seat of a plush velvet chaise lounge, noting how the fabric had faded in unequal spots after years of being exposed to the light, and grit her teeth.

“Is everything all right?” asked Knight after a long silence.

Autumn sighed and let herself fall down heavily on the chaise, burying her face in her hands. “No. I hate it here,” she mumbled, voice muffled by her palms.

“Oh.”

She peeked in between her fingers to see him look around himself, clearly at a loss for what to do. “I would have thought that — is there something wrong with the room?”

She sighed once more. “It’s not the room. It’s…” She waved a hand in the air, hoping that he would understand her meaning from it, despite not really knowing herself what it was that she wanted to say. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing here. I don’t understand what the King expects from me. Not lying, not leaving the walls... none of these are actions that I can take, only things that I need to avoid. I… I lack a purpose,” she finally landed on, snapping her fingers, relieved to have found such a good turn of phrase to explain it. One that Knight, who seemed at times to be all purpose, would understand.

Indeed, comprehension dawned in his eyes. He nodded and looked around himself once more, as if seeing the room under a new light.

“And this is why you want to find out what the King’s hiding. So you can figure out what he’s thinking.”

“Yes! Exactly, yes. But so far all, I’ve learned is that he likes black, and he has no taste.” She gestured around her in disgust. “Why even have a sunroom, if this is what you’re going to do with it!”

“To be fair, the King doesn’t spend a lot of time here,” Knight began, hesitantly, as if an idea was piercing in his mind and he needed to feel out the contours of it. “I’m not sure that anyone does come up here. Perhaps…”

She waited him out, but he said nothing more. Instead, he bit his lips, frowned, and shifted his weight uneasily.

“…Yes?”

Knight took a deep breath and looked her directly in the eyes.

“I will regret suggesting this,” he warned, and Autumn sat up straight, a frisson of anticipation making its way down her spine. “At sunset, after dinner, the king walks the wall,” he continued. “If you wanted to have a look at his rooms, the place where he spends the most of his time, there would be an opportunity then.”

She felt her eyes widen. “You think he’s hiding something in his bedchambers?”

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable thinking about Eltanin’s bedroom. “Or in his study. There are only two locations in the castle where the King does magic, and that is in the tower above his rooms, and the workshop in the basement.”

“Wait, hold on,” she said. “Go back. The basement? We’ve not gone down there, yet!”

She stood up, and as she did so, saw Knight’s shoulders fall in something like relief.

“Not that I am not interested in snooping around the King’s rooms,” she clarified. “But there are several hours yet to kill before dinner.”

Tension returned to her dear knight’s frame, and he went to open the door to the tower’s stairwell with what seemed like an aborted sigh. “Of course. Basement, then dinner, then snooping. After you, my lady.”

***

There were two stairwells that descended into the basement, Knight explained to her. One was well travelled by servants, being a direct link between the dining hall and the kitchen. The other one was a secret passageway supposed to be reserved for sole use of the king.

“There is a panel in the wall,” he told her as they entered the throne room. “Hidden behind a column. You can’t really see it unless you know it’s there. I believe that it goes straight down into his workshop, but I have not explored it myself. I have heard that some of the other constructs have, however.”

“Have they? But isn’t it forbidden?”

“To be entirely honest, I am not sure. The king has never said anything about it, but given the passage’s location, it seems as if it should be off-limits. The constructs who came here did it as part of dares. It is not the sort of thing that is encouraged, nor is it frequent, I assure you," he explained, as if he felt the need to apologize for the other's disobedience.

“I see. So you don’t know what would happen if we got caught here?”

Knight shook his head, then shrugged. “I prefer not to imagine what might happen were I to be found here alone, my lady. But you have been given leave to go anywhere you wish, so I feel no fear accompanying you.”

His expression was still as mild as always, but Autumn's lips pulled into a knowing smile regardless. “You are curious!” she teased. “You want to see the workshop, like the others, and you are using me as an excuse!”

“I have already seen the workshop, what I want to see is the hidden passage,” he clarified. “And I would do nothing as crass as use you, my lady. I merely… encourage your interest to turn in a direction that benefits me.”

She laughed and patted his arm fondly. “Of course you are. And I don’t mind you using me, you know. I like it.” She winked, and felt the satisfaction of seeing him blush.

Knight untangled his elbow from hers and coughed. “The panel should be right around here,” he said, pawing at the wall until something clicked. He turned to her, his eyes shining and embarrassment already forgotten. Autumn grinned back, and together they pulled the door open. Beyond was a narrow staircase, the dust on the steps a testament of how seldom used it must have been. Autumn had seen many such passages in her life and thus was not particularly impressed, but Knight seemed thrilled at the sight. He brushed his fingers against the stone wall as they descended, a look of deep fascination on his face.

The door suddenly closed behind them, smothering them in darkness. She gasped. A warm hand immediately caught hers.

“Are you all right? I apologize, I did not think to bring a torch.”

“I am well,” she reassured him. “Merely surprised. I can’t see a thing, can you?”

“Yes, deers have a very fine night vision, my lady. Follow my lead, and I will see you to the bottom safely. Can you extend your arm until you find the wall? Good. Now, here.” Gently, he positioned her other hand until it was wrapped around his bicep, then moved down one step, coaxing her to follow.

“Can you feel the texture of the stone, under your hand?” he asked, after they had taken a few steps down together.

“Yes? What of it?”

“It is different than in the rest of the castle. I believe that this is because it is older. Much older. This passage and the workshop may possibly be the only remaining parts of the original structure.”

“The original…? How do you mean?”

“The castle has been destroyed many times, my lady. You didn’t know?”

“No! How was it destroyed?”

Knight stopped his descent, and she had the strong impression that his gaze was now boring into hers. “The wars, my lady. Your people have burnt this castle more than once, as well as those living in it.”

Autumn felt cold. “…Oh. I… apologize?”

There was an awkward pause. “It was not your doing,” finally replied Knight.

He resumed his descent of the stairs. They did not speak again until they reached a door and emerged back into dim light.