Elara's POV
I couldn't just hide.
Mira dragged me toward the inner keep, her hand gripping my wrist. "The duke's orders were clear, my lady. You must stay safe—"
A soldier stumbled past us, blood pouring from a wound in his side. He collapsed against the wall, gasping.
I stopped walking.
"My lady, please—" Mira pulled harder.
"He's dying." I yanked free from her grip and ran to the soldier. He was young—maybe twenty—with terror in his eyes.
"Leave me," he choked out. "Save yourself—"
"Shut up." I tore off a piece of my dress and pressed it against his wound. Blood soaked through immediately. Too much blood. "Mira, I need clean water, alcohol—the strongest you have—and clean cloth. Now!"
"My lady, we need to—"
"NOW!"
Mira's eyes widened, but she ran.
I kept pressure on the wound, my hands slick with blood. The soldier's face was pale, his breathing shallow. In the twenty-first century, I'd call 911. Here? I was all he had.
"What's your name?" I asked, trying to keep him conscious.
"T-Thomas, my lady."
"Well, Thomas, you're going to survive this. But you need to stay awake. Talk to me. Tell me about your family."
"My sister... she's eight... I promised I'd come home..."
"Then keep that promise." I pressed harder. "Don't you dare die on me."
Mira returned with supplies. I grabbed the alcohol—some kind of strong liquor—and poured it directly on the wound.
Thomas screamed.
"I know it hurts," I said through gritted teeth. "But this kills the tiny monsters that cause infection. Trust me."
"What monsters?" His voice was weak.
"Germs. Things you can't see but that make wounds go bad." I worked quickly, cleaning the wound as best I could with the alcohol. The bleeding was slowing. Good sign. "In my world, we discovered that cleaning wounds with alcohol saves lives. No magic. Just science."
I wrapped clean cloth tightly around his torso, binding the wound. My hands shook, but I forced them steady.
"There." I sat back. "You'll live. But you need rest and clean bandages every day. Understand?"
Thomas stared at me like I'd performed a miracle. "Thank you, my lady. Thank you—"
An explosion rocked the corridor. We all ducked as stone dust rained down.
"We need to move him," Mira said urgently.
"Help me." Together, we got Thomas to his feet and half-carried, half-dragged him toward the inner keep.
More wounded soldiers lined the corridor. Some were being tended by an old man with a white beard—the castle healer, I guessed. But there were too many injured and not enough hands.
I saw a man with a deep cut on his arm, another with a gash across his leg. Both wounds were dirty, packed with battlefield filth.
They were going to get infected. They were going to die.
Unless I did something.
"Mira, get me more alcohol and cloth. As much as you can carry." I turned to the healer. "Sir, I can help—"
"Stay back, girl." His voice was sharp. "I don't need noble ladies fainting at the sight of blood."
"I'm not going to faint." I moved to the soldier with the leg wound. "I know how to treat infections. I can save them."
"With what? Prayer?" He laughed bitterly. "Unless you're a trained physician—"
"I'm from a place where we've cured diseases you think are death sentences." I grabbed the alcohol Mira brought. "Watch."
I cleaned the soldier's wound the same way I'd done Thomas's—alcohol first, then clean bandages wrapped tight. The soldier hissed in pain but stayed still.
The healer watched with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?"
"Killing germs. Invisible creatures that cause wounds to rot and fester. Alcohol kills them." I moved to the next soldier. "In my world, we figured this out hundreds of years ago. Here, you're still losing people to simple infections."
"That's ridiculous. Wounds go bad because of bad humors, evil spirits—"
"No." I looked him dead in the eye. "Wounds go bad because they're dirty. Clean them properly, keep them clean, and people survive. It's not magic. It's knowledge."
I worked through the wounded, one after another. Cleaning, bandaging, explaining. Some soldiers stared at me in awe. Others looked skeptical. But no one stopped me.
The old healer finally stepped beside me. "Where did you learn this?"
"A different world. A different time." I finished wrapping a bandage. "But the human body works the same everywhere. Blood needs to stay inside. Wounds need to stay clean. And if you treat people fast enough, they don't have to die."
He studied me for a long moment. Then he picked up alcohol and cloth. "Show me exactly what you do."
For the next hour, I taught a medieval healer about basic sanitation. It was surreal and desperate and probably wouldn't make sense to anyone else. But soldiers who should have died started breathing easier. Color returned to pale faces. Bleeding stopped.
Lives were saved.
"My lady." Captain Roan appeared in the corridor, covered in blood and dirt. His eyes widened when he saw me surrounded by wounded soldiers. "What are you—the duke ordered you to the inner keep!"
"I'm saving his soldiers." I didn't look up from the wound I was cleaning. "If Kael has a problem with that, he can yell at me later."
Roan's expression flickered—surprise, maybe respect. "The duke is holding the south wall, but barely. We're outnumbered three to one." He paused. "He keeps asking if you're safe."
Something warm bloomed in my chest. Even in the middle of battle, Kael was thinking about me.
"Tell him I'm fine. Tell him I'm doing what I do best—surviving and helping others survive." I met Roan's eyes. "How bad is it really?"
"Bad." His jaw clenched. "The Emperor brought his best fighters. They're pushing us back inch by inch. If they reach the inner keep..." He didn't finish. He didn't need to.
"Then we don't let them reach it." I stood, wiping blood off my hands. "Captain, I need you to trust me."
"Trust you with what?"
"I have knowledge from a world 800 years in the future. I just saved a dozen soldiers using techniques from my time." I stepped closer. "What else do you need? What other problems can I solve?"
Roan stared at me. Then: "The Emperor's using black powder to breach our walls. We have no defense against it."
My mind raced. Black powder. Gunpowder. Early explosives.
"Water," I said suddenly. "Gunpowder needs to stay dry to explode. If you can dump enough water on their supplies—"
"The powder stores would be useless." Roan's eyes lit up. "We have water barrels on the upper levels. If we could drop them—"
"Do it." I grabbed his arm. "And Captain? Tell Kael I'm making him a deal. I'll use everything I know from the future to help win this siege. In return, he teaches me how to survive this world. How to fight, how to defend myself, how to never be helpless again."
"He'll agree." Roan's voice was certain. "The duke's been alone for ten years. Now he has someone who can actually help him." He turned to go, then stopped. "My lady? I thought you were a spy when you first arrived. I was wrong. You're exactly what the duke needs."
Then he was gone, running back to the battle.
Mira appeared at my side. "My lady, that was incredibly dangerous. If the duke knew—"
"He'd probably be furious and impressed at the same time." I looked at the soldiers I'd saved. They watched me with new eyes—not as a doomed bride, but as someone who'd fought for them. "Mira, I need you to teach me everything about this castle. Secret passages, weak points, storage rooms. Everything."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not waiting in a tower anymore. I'm not hiding while people die." I rolled up my sleeves. "Kael is fighting out there with a curse burning him from the inside. The least I can do is make sure when he comes back, he has a castle worth saving."
Night fell, and the battle raged on.
I'd saved seventeen soldiers. The healer now worked alongside me, using alcohol and clean bandages. Word spread through the castle—the duke's new bride was some kind of miracle worker.
I wasn't. I just knew basic first aid.
But in a world without modern medicine, basic first aid was revolutionary.
A horn sounded—long and low. The attack was withdrawing. For now.
I collapsed against the wall, exhausted. My dress was ruined with blood. My hands ached. But soldiers who should have been corpses were breathing.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Heavy, urgent.
Kael appeared, still in armor, his mask splattered with blood. His eyes found me immediately.
"Elara." He crossed the distance in three strides. "Roan said—I heard—" He stopped, taking in the wounded soldiers, the blood on my hands, the exhausted healer. "You saved them."
"I used knowledge from my time. Alcohol kills germs. Clean wounds don't get infected." I met his eyes through the mask. "I made Roan a deal. My future knowledge for your protection and training. Was I wrong?"
"No." He pulled off his gloves and took my bloody hands in his. The curse mark on his chest—visible through a tear in his shirt—glowed faintly, then faded more. "You were brilliant. Brave. Completely reckless and absolutely perfect."
My heart hammered. "Your curse—"
"Is smaller. I can feel it retreating every time we touch." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Whatever you are, whoever brought you here—I'm grateful. Because you're saving more than just my soldiers. You're saving me."
"The Emperor—"
"Withdrew for the night. But he'll be back at dawn." Kael's voice turned grim. "He brought his entire army. This isn't just about killing you anymore. He knows you can break my curse. He knows that makes me dangerous."
"Then we break it faster." I squeezed his hands. "Teach me to fight. To defend myself. And I'll teach you everything I know from the future. We become partners. Equals. Strong enough that your brother can't destroy us."
"Partners." He said the word like it was foreign. Like no one had ever offered him that before. "Not master and servant. Not duke and expendable bride."
"Partners." I stepped closer. "You said I make you feel things you thought were dead. You make me feel brave. Like I'm not alone in this insane situation. So let's be insane together."
A sound escaped him—almost like a laugh. "You're extraordinary."
"I'm terrified and making this up as I go."
"That makes two of us." He pulled me closer, and suddenly we were chest to chest, his armor cold against me but his hands warm. "Elara, I need to tell you something."
"What?"
"The Emperor isn't just trying to kill you to keep me cursed. He's trying to kill you because—"
An explosion shattered the moment.
The entire castle shook. Screams erupted from below.
Kael's head snapped up. "That came from the armory."
Captain Roan sprinted around the corner, his face ashen. "My lord! The water barrels—we dropped them on the black powder stores like Lady Elara suggested. But there was a trap. The Emperor knew we'd try it."
"What kind of trap?" I asked.
"The real explosives weren't in the stores. They were planted under the foundation." Roan's voice shook. "The Emperor just brought down the entire east wing."
Ice flooded my veins. "How many casualties?"
"Dozens. Maybe more." He looked at Kael. "My lord, the castle is breaching from the inside. If we don't evacuate—"
"We don't evacuate." Kael's voice was steel. "This is our stand."
Another explosion. Closer this time.
Kael grabbed my shoulders. "I need you to promise me something."
"Anything."
"If the castle falls, if the Emperor's soldiers reach you—run. Use the secret passage in your chambers. Mira knows where. Run and don't look back."
"I'm not leaving you—"
"Promise me!" His grip tightened. "I've lost everyone I cared about to my brother's cruelty. I won't lose you too."
Tears burned my eyes. "Only if you promise to survive. To keep fighting. Because I'm not done breaking your curse yet."
He pressed his forehead against mine—the most intimate gesture he'd shown anyone in years.
"Deal," he whispered.
Then the wall beside us exploded inward, and the Emperor's soldiers poured through.