Elara's POV
The first catapult stone hit the outer wall at dawn.
The impact shook my entire room. I jerked awake, my heart pounding, as dust rained from the ceiling. Another boom echoed through the castle, then another.
The siege had truly begun.
I scrambled out of bed and ran to the window. In the gray morning light, I saw the Emperor's army spread across the valley like a dark stain. Siege weapons lined up in rows. Soldiers—hundreds of them—waited in formation.
They weren't leaving. They were preparing for war.
My door burst open. Mira rushed in, her face pale. "My lady, the duke requests your presence in his study. Immediately."
I threw on the first dress I could reach and followed her through the corridors. Servants rushed past carrying supplies—weapons, bandages, food. Everyone moved with urgent purpose.
Captain Roan met us at the study door. His expression was grim. "He's waiting inside. Alone."
"Is that safe?" Mira asked quietly.
Roan's eyes flickered to me. "She's the only person who can touch him without pain. I'd say she's the safest person in this castle."
He opened the door.
The duke stood at a massive desk covered in maps and papers. He'd removed his armor, wearing only a black shirt and pants. But he still wore the mask.
Always the mask.
"Close the door," he said without looking up.
I did. We were alone.
"The Emperor's commander sent a message." The duke's voice was flat. "Surrender you, and they'll withdraw. Keep you, and they'll starve us out or break down these walls."
My stomach dropped. "You should give me up."
"No."
"They have hundreds of soldiers. You can't—"
"I said no." His hands slammed on the desk. "I've spent ten years being controlled, manipulated, used as a weapon by the Emperor. I won't hand you over to be his next victim."
"Why do you even care?" The words burst out. "You don't know me. We've been married three days. Why risk your castle, your people, everything—for me?"
He finally looked up. Those ice-blue eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made me catch my breath.
"Because you're the first person who's touched me in ten years without screaming." His voice was rough, raw. "Because when you look at me, you see a person, not a monster. Because—" He stopped, shaking his head. "Come here."
"What?"
"I need to show you something. Come here."
My legs moved on their own. I crossed the room until I stood directly in front of him.
He reached for his shirt and began unbuttoning it.
"What are you doing?" My face burned.
"Proving something to you." He pulled the shirt open, revealing his chest.
I gasped.
Black marks covered his skin like twisted vines, spreading from his heart outward. They pulsed with each heartbeat, and where they touched, his skin looked burned and scarred. Some areas were so dark they almost seemed alive, writhing beneath the surface.
"This is the curse," he said quietly. "The Emperor's mage bound it to my heart ten years ago. Every person I touch in anger—it spreads. Every life I take—it burns deeper. Every time I cause pain—it grows stronger."
I stared at the horrifying marks. "Does it hurt?"
"Every second of every day." His jaw clenched. "But I've learned to live with it. Until recently, I thought I'd die with it too."
"What changed?"
"You." He took my hand and pressed it flat against the curse mark.
The moment my skin touched his, warmth flooded through me. The black marks glowed—not with darkness, but with light. Golden light, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. And as I watched, the marks receded. Just slightly. Just enough to see.
"It's shrinking," I breathed. "Your curse is actually shrinking."
"I know." His hand covered mine, holding it against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat—strong and steady beneath my palm. "For ten years, this curse has only grown. Consumed more of me. But when you touch me..." He paused. "It retreats. Like it's afraid of you."
I looked up at him. We stood so close I could see the details of his mask—intricate silver work, patterns that looked almost like stars. "Why? Why would I affect your curse?"
"That's what I need to find out." His thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. "The letters you found—those brides were innocent women sent to die in political games. I saved them because it was the right thing to do. But I never got close to them. Never touched them. Never..." He trailed off.
"Never what?"
"Never felt anything." His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "But you—from the moment you stormed into that inn and demanded I kill you or explain myself—you've made me feel things I thought were dead."
My heart hammered against my ribs. "Like what?"
"Hope. Curiosity. Anger that someone would dare hurt you." His free hand reached up, fingers hovering near my face but not quite touching. "And something else. Something I don't have a name for yet."
The air between us felt charged, electric. I should step back. Put distance between us. But I couldn't move.
"Take off the mask," I said suddenly.
He went completely still. "No."
"You said the curse kills anyone who sees your face. But I can touch you. Maybe I can see you too."
"It's too dangerous—"
"You're asking me to help break your curse. To trust you. To stay here while an army wants me dead." I placed my other hand on his chest, right over his heart. "Trust me back. Show me what you're hiding."
For a long moment, he didn't move. Then, slowly, his hands went to the sides of the mask.
"If this hurts you," he said quietly, "if you start to feel pain or madness or anything wrong—tell me immediately. Promise."
"I promise."
He hesitated one more heartbeat. Then he lifted the mask away.
I stopped breathing.
He was beautiful.
Strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, lips that looked like they'd forgotten how to smile. Dark hair fell across his forehead. But it was his eyes that caught me—those ice-blue eyes that looked so cold from a distance were filled with fear and vulnerability up close.
And there, on his right cheek, three small marks in the shape of stars.
"A birthmark," I whispered, reaching up to trace it.
He flinched but didn't pull away. "The royal constellation. Proof of the bloodline."
"You're royalty?"
"I was. Before the Emperor took everything." His voice was bitter. "This mark would have proven my right to the throne. Now it's just evidence that needs to stay hidden."
I stared at the three stars. At this man who should have been a king but became a cursed duke instead. "I don't feel any pain. No madness. Nothing bad."
"I know." Wonder filled his voice. "I can see it. The curse mark—look."
I glanced down. The black marks on his chest had faded even more. Where my hands touched him, his skin looked almost normal.
"It's working," he breathed. "You're actually breaking it."
"How is this possible?"
"I don't know. But we need to find out. Because if you can break my curse—" He stopped, his expression shifting. "The Emperor knows. That's why he wants you dead. That's why Baron Aldric brought you here."
"What do you mean?"
"Dark magic doesn't work randomly. You weren't pulled from your time by accident. Someone or something wanted you here. Wanted you with me." His hands gripped my shoulders. "This was planned."
Ice flooded my veins. "Planned by who?"
Before he could answer, an explosion rocked the castle. We stumbled, and the duke caught me, pulling me against his chest. His arms wrapped around me protectively as debris rained from the ceiling.
When the shaking stopped, he didn't let go.
"They're using black powder," he said grimly. "Military-grade explosives. They're not trying to wait us out anymore."
"They're trying to bring down the walls."
"Yes." He finally released me, grabbing his mask and putting it back on. "We need to move you to the inner keep. It's the most fortified—"
"My lord!" Captain Roan burst through the door. "The south wall is breached. Emperor's soldiers are flooding through. We can hold them for maybe an hour, but—" He stopped, noticing the duke's shirt was still unbuttoned, his curse mark visible.
Roan's eyes widened. "My lord, the curse—it's smaller."
"I know." The duke buttoned his shirt quickly. "How many soldiers?"
"At least fifty through the breach. More coming." Roan's expression was grave. "We need you on the front line."
"No," I said immediately. "If you fight, the curse will spread. Every person you kill—"
"Will hurt me. I know." The duke strapped on his sword belt. "But if I don't fight, we all die. Including you."
"There has to be another way—"
"There isn't." He cupped my face with both hands—an intimate gesture that made my breath catch. "Stay in the inner keep. Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone but me or Roan. Understand?"
"Please don't—"
"Promise me, Elara."
The use of my first name sent a shiver through me. He'd never used it before.
"I promise," I whispered.
He nodded once, then headed for the door. Captain Roan followed.
I grabbed the duke's arm. "Wait. What's your real name?"
He paused, looking back at me. Behind the mask, I could imagine his expression—surprised, maybe even touched.
"Kael," he said quietly. "My name is Kael Vorsaith. And when this battle is over, I'm going to find out exactly why you were brought to me."
Then he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
I stood alone in the study, my hand still warm from where he'd touched me, my mind racing.
The curse was breaking. I was the key. And someone—somewhere—had planned all of this.
But who? And why?
A scream echoed from somewhere below. Steel clashed against steel. The battle had reached inside the castle.
I ran to the window and looked out.
The Emperor's soldiers were everywhere—climbing walls, flooding through gates, overwhelming the duke's guards.
And in the center of the chaos, I saw him. Kael. Fighting with desperate fury, his sword flashing in the morning light.
But every time his blade found flesh, every time an enemy fell, I saw him stumble. Saw him clutch his chest. The curse was burning him from the inside.
He was killing himself to protect me.
I pressed my hand against the window, watching helplessly.
Then I saw something that made my blood run cold.
A man in golden armor rode through the breach. He was young, handsome, with a cruel smile. He dismounted and pointed directly at the castle.
At me.
Even from this distance, I recognized the family resemblance. The same ice-blue eyes as Kael.
The Emperor. Kael's brother. The man who'd cursed him.
He'd come personally to finish this.
And as he walked toward the castle entrance, one thought burned through my mind:
If Kael's touch could break his own curse, what would happen if the brothers touched?
Would it save Kael?
Or destroy us all?