After Gabrielle unlocked a bedroom on the ground floor of the keep, Jacques abruptly threw her across the room and quickly pushed the door shut.

“Now,” he said through clenched teeth, still brandishing the blade, “tell me what’s going on.”

Gabrielle defiantly regained her stance. Smoothing her dress against her slender curves she looked at him curiously.

“What in particular?” she asked, flashing him one of her dazzling smiles. Jacques never could resist her charms.

“Where to begin?” he barked. “Who are you? Where have I been? What kind of castle this is? Practically every door is locked and no door leads to the same room twice! How do you people manage to find your way around this place?”

As he vented, Gabrielle lifted her hands to her crimson lips in abject horror. She had no idea. What had she done? What had the the dungeon done to him?

She answered his last question first.

“It’s not the castle, Jacques. It’s the key. In your hands any door is every door. The same is true for Roland.”

“Roland?”