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The thought eased some of his reluctance about the search.

Nicholas made a sound of disgust, pushing his plate away with barely half the food consumed. “Another dull day searching for nonsense and the tall tales of children. How delightful. I can barely contain my enthusiasm.”

Lorenzo’s jaw tightened. “Henri and Gabriel followed complex clues to reach Grimsfell Hall,” he said, his accent thickening with irritation. “Clues that led them across England, from York to Tintagel, and finally here. In the library is clear evidence of Matteo’s engineering brilliance. There is more to discover. I am certain of it.”

“You are always certain,” Nicholas observed. “Certainty without evidence is merely stubbornness dressed in academic robes.”

“And cynicism without hope is merely cowardice,” Lorenzo shot back. “If I listened to doubters like you, I would never have left Florence. Would have spent my life wondering whether Matteo di Bianchi was truly the master I believed him to be. But I dared to seek answers, and look what I have found. Proof of his genius in this very hall.”

Angelo watched the exchange with growing concern. The tension between his uncle and his friend had been building since their arrival at Grimsfell, fueled by the frustration of their stalled quest and the enforced proximity of traveling together. If it continued to escalate, the situation could become truly unpleasant.

Nicholas opened his mouth to respond, but Angelo quickly interjected. “Perhaps we should begin the examination before the morning is entirely gone? If we work efficiently, we might make real progress before luncheon.”

It was a transparent attempt to defuse the tension, but both men subsided, apparently willing to redirect their argumentative energy toward the actual task at hand.

They finished their breakfast in relative silence, then made their way to the library. The familiar space greeted them with its scent of old leather and parchment, sunlight streaming through tall windows to illuminate dust motes dancing in the air.

Angelo triggered the mechanism that opened the entrance to the Hall of Reflections, pressing the sigil of sword intersecting a circle. The bookshelf swung inward with its characteristic smoothness, revealing the stone steps descending into darkness.

The chamber greeted them with its now-familiar atmosphere. The endless mirrors reflecting light into infinity, the ornate organ dominating the far end, the sense of being inside something both beautiful and uncanny.

Nicholas immediately began complaining again. “Gabriel and Henri already examined this hall extensively. What makes you think we will discover anything they missed?”

Lorenzo turned to face his critic, drawing himself up with visible pride. “Because I am an art historian specializing in the Renaissance. I have spent years studying how artists of that period hid their secrets, how engineers like da Vinci used codes and ciphers to keep their papers private from prying eyes. I understand the methods, the mentality, the subtle ways that masters concealed information in plain sight.”

Nicholas snorted. “You are not lacking in belief in your own abilities, I see.”

“Confidence based on expertise is not arrogance,” Lorenzo replied coolly. “It is simply an accurate assessment of self. Da Vinci filled his notebooks with mirror writing to prevent casual readers from understanding his work. Michelangelo embedded hidden imagery in the Sistine Chapel ceiling that has only recently been identified. Botticelli included mathematical principles in the composition of his paintings that suggest knowledge far beyond what was publicly acknowledged. These men were my intellectual ancestors, and I have made it my life’s work to understand their methods.”

“Fascinating,” Nicholas drawled. “And how does this expertise help us find a hidden mechanism in a mirrored chamber?”

“Because I know what to look for,” Lorenzo said with strained patience. “Patterns that seem decorative but encode mathematical principles. Asymmetries that draw the eye away from significant features. Symbolic elements that reference specific texts or traditions. A casual observer sees beauty. A trained eye sees meaning.”

“Gentlemen,” Angelo said, injecting deliberate cheer into his voice. “Shall we channel this energy into actual searching? Nicholas, perhaps you could examine the mirrors on the left side, which face the outer wall. Lorenzo, the right, because it faces into the building and is more likely to conceal something. I will investigate the organ and the area around it.”

It was an obvious attempt to separate the two quarreling men, hiding his true motive to keep them from finding the alcove. Although Gabriel had missed it despite searching, Angelo had only succeeded because he had seen Isolde depart that way.

They dispersed to their assigned areas, and Angelo was free to approach the organ without having to explain his particular interest in that section.

He watched as Lorenzo began methodically tapping on the mirror panels, listening for hollow spaces or irregularities in sound. Nicholas did the same on the opposite wall, though his movements lacked Lorenzo’s systematic precision.

Angelo moved to the organ and ran his hands over the wooden casing, feeling for seams or mechanisms. The instrument was a masterpiece of craftsmanship. Intricate carvings decorated every visible surface, depicting scenes from what might be Arthurian legend. Knights and ladies, castles and dragons, all rendered in exquisite detail.

But were any of these decorative elements functional? Did pressing a particular carving trigger some hidden mechanism?

Angelo began testing each carved element methodically, pushing gently against knights’ shields, ladies’ hands, dragons’ wings. Nothing yielded or moved. The carvings were simply decorative, as solid and immobile as the day they were created.

Frustration mounted as Angelo worked his way around the organ’s base. There had to be something. Some way that Isolde entered and exited this chamber. She could not simply walk through solid stone.

Unless …

Angelo paused, struck by sudden inspiration. “Lorenzo,” he called. “Come here for a moment.”

His friend looked up from his examination of one of the mirrors. “You have found something?”

“I want to test something. We should close the hall, examine the library shelving from the outside, and compare how it sounds when we knock on it versus the adjacent shelves.”

Lorenzo’s eyes lit with understanding. “To determine if there are structural differences that might indicate other hidden passages. Brillante, Angelo. Yes, let us try it.”