POV: Maya Chen
"I have to get out of here."
I pull against the chains, panic flooding through me. Rachel is going to be murdered tonight, and I'm the only one who knows.
"You can't break those," Elara whispers through the bars. "They're iron. Strong."
"Then get the guards—tell them someone's planning to kill Dr. Kim—"
"They won't believe a servant girl." Elara's voice cracks. "Especially not if I'm accusing Lady Seraphina. She'd have me whipped or worse."
She's right. A young servant has no power here.
But I can't just sit here while Rachel dies and I get blamed.
"The keys," I say desperately. "Where are they?"
"The head guard has them. He's outside the dungeon entrance, with three other soldiers."
Four armed guards between me and freedom. Even if I could escape these chains, I'd never get past them.
Unless...
"Elara, can you get me something from the sick ward? Certain herbs or plants?"
"Maybe? What do you need?"
I think fast. What plants exist in medieval times that I could use? "Chamomile, if you can find it. Valerian root. And any strong alcohol—wine, spirits, anything."
"What are you planning?"
"Something stupid and desperate." I meet her eyes through the bars. "Trust me?"
She hesitates only a second. "You saved Thomas. I'll get what you need."
She disappears into the shadows.
I slump against the cold stone wall, my mind racing. Medieval sedatives. If I can make something strong enough to knock out the guards, I might have a chance.
It's a long shot. A very long shot.
But it's all I have.
Elara returns twenty minutes later with a small bundle. "I found chamomile and some wine. No valerian root—the gardens don't have any."
Damn. Chamomile alone won't be strong enough.
"Wait," Elara adds. "But I found this in the physician's supplies. He uses it to help people sleep before surgery." She passes through a small vial of dark liquid.
I smell it carefully. Poppy extract. Opium-based. Dangerous in large doses, but perfect for what I need.
"You're brilliant," I tell her. "Now I need you to do something very brave. Take this wine—" I mix the chamomile and poppy extract into the bottle as best I can with my chained hands, "—and convince the guards to drink it. Tell them it's a gift from the castle kitchens. Special wine for their hard work."
"They might not believe me—"
"Make them believe you. Flirt if you have to. You're pretty, young, unthreatening. They won't suspect a servant girl of poisoning them."
Elara takes the bottle with shaking hands. "What if it kills them?"
"It won't. They'll just sleep heavily for a few hours." I hope. Medieval medicine isn't exact science. "Go. We're running out of time."
She leaves, and I wait in agonizing silence.
Minutes crawl by like hours.
Then I hear voices from the dungeon entrance. Elara's nervous laugh. A guard's gruff response.
"—just thought you lads deserved something nice. Standing guard in a cold dungeon all night..."
"That's kind of you, girl."
"Go on, have a drink. There's enough for all of you."
More voices. The sound of liquid pouring. Then... silence.
I hold my breath.
Ten minutes later, I hear a heavy thud. Then another. Then snoring.
It worked.
"My lady?" Elara appears at my cell, holding a ring of keys with trembling hands. "They're all asleep. I think. They're definitely not moving."
"You did perfectly." Relief floods through me. "Now unlock these chains."
She fumbles with the keys, trying several before finding the right one. The chains fall away and I rub my wrists, wincing at the raw skin.
"Come on." I grab the keys and we hurry past the sleeping guards. True to Elara's word, all four are slumped against walls or sprawled on the floor, breathing deeply.
We slip through the dungeon entrance into the castle corridors.
"Where are you going?" Elara whispers.
"To find Rachel before they kill her." I move quickly through the shadows, remembering the layout from my previous days of limited freedom. "Adrian said she'd be in guest quarters. Where are those?"
"East wing, second floor."
We run through empty corridors, praying we don't encounter guards. It's late—most people are asleep. But patrols still walk the castle at night.
We're halfway to the east wing when I hear voices ahead.
"—should be dead within the hour. The poison works fast."
My blood runs cold. That's Seraphina's voice.
I pull Elara into an alcove, pressing against the wall. Through a gap, I see Seraphina walking with someone.
A woman. Dark hair, elegant posture, wearing fine noble clothes.
Lisa.
My traitorous cousin is dressed as a noblewoman, walking freely through Adrian's castle.
"You're sure the guards won't check on her until morning?" Lisa asks.
"Positive. I bribed them to stay away from her quarters. By the time anyone finds the body, Dr. Chen will be blamed. She's already in the dungeon for suspicious behavior."
"Perfect." Lisa smiles coldly. "With both rival time travelers dead or imprisoned, James and I control the narrative. Adrian will have no choice but to work with us."
"And you'll make him king of all territories?" Seraphina presses. "That was our bargain."
"Of course." Lisa's voice drips false sincerity. "Once we eliminate all opposition, Adrian will rule with you as his queen. You'll have everything you want."
They're lying to each other. I can hear it—Lisa has no intention of helping Seraphina, and Seraphina is too obsessed with Adrian to see the manipulation.
But none of that matters right now.
"Rachel's quarters," I whisper to Elara. "We have to get there first."
We wait until Seraphina and Lisa turn a corner, then sprint toward the east wing.
Rachel's door is locked. I try every key on the ring until one clicks.
Inside, Rachel lies on her bed, convulsing. Foam at her mouth. Her eyes rolled back.
Poison. Already working through her system.
"No no no—" I rush to her side, checking her pulse. Still alive. Barely.
"What do we do?" Elara cries.
"The sick ward—get me activated charcoal if they have any. Anything that absorbs toxins. Also milk, egg whites, anything that coats the stomach—"
"I don't understand—"
"Just bring me everything from the medical supplies! Run!"
Elara sprints away.
I turn Rachel onto her side so she doesn't choke, clearing the foam from her mouth. Her pulse is erratic, her breathing shallow.
I don't know what poison they used. Medieval or modern? Natural or synthetic? Without knowing, I'm guessing at treatment.
But I can try the basics. Induce vomiting to clear her stomach. Dilute the poison. Keep her breathing.
I force my fingers into her mouth, triggering her gag reflex. She vomits weakly—not much comes up. The poison's already too deep in her system.
Elara returns with arms full of supplies. I mix charcoal with water, force it down Rachel's throat. Then milk. Then more water.
"Come on," I mutter, checking her pulse again. "Fight it. You're a scientist. You don't get to die from medieval poison."
Her convulsions slow. Her breathing stabilizes slightly.
Maybe. Just maybe.
The door crashes open.
Adrian stands there with a dozen guards, his sword drawn, his scarred face dark with fury.
"Step away from her."
"She's been poisoned!" I don't move from Rachel's side. "I'm trying to save her—"
"You escaped the dungeon and came straight to the woman you're accused of wanting dead." Adrian's voice is ice. "Guards found the dungeon sentries drugged. You poisoned them, escaped, and came here to finish your victim."
"No! Lisa and Seraphina poisoned her! I heard them talking—they're working together to frame me—"
"Lies." Seraphina appears behind Adrian, her face a perfect mask of horror. "Your Majesty, the witch has gone mad. She's trying to kill Dr. Kim!"
"I'm SAVING her!" I scream in frustration.
But Adrian's eyes are on Rachel's convulsing form, the vomit, the medical supplies scattered around.
It looks bad. Really bad.
"Seize her," Adrian commands.
Guards grab me, drag me away from Rachel's bedside.
"No! Please! Check Rachel's food—test it for poison! Search Seraphina's rooms! Lisa Chen is in your castle disguised as a noble—find her!"
"Enough!" Adrian's control shatters. "I've heard enough lies. Enough manipulation. Enough games." He points his sword at me. "You broke out of the dungeon. Drugged my guards. And I find you here with a dying woman. What else am I supposed to think?"
"That I'm telling the truth!" Tears stream down my face. "Please, Adrian. I know you don't trust me. I know I've given you no reason to. But Rachel is dying RIGHT NOW. Let me save her. Arrest me after, execute me if you want, but let me save her life first."
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because I'm a doctor!" The words rip from my throat. "It's what I am. What I've always been. I save lives. It's the only thing I know how to do. Even when people betray me, hurt me, try to destroy me—I still save lives. It's who I am."
Adrian stares at me for a long moment.
Then he lowers his sword.
"You have ten minutes," he says quietly. "Save her. Or I'll assume you're the murderer and you'll hang at dawn."
"Ten minutes isn't enough—"
"Then work faster."
He steps back. The guards release me but stay close, weapons ready.
I turn back to Rachel, my hands shaking.
Ten minutes to save a life with medieval medicine and no knowledge of what poison was used.
If I fail, I die.
If I succeed, I might finally have proof that I'm not the enemy.
I get to work, praying to every god I don't believe in.
And watching the candle burn down, marking each passing minute.
Nine minutes left.
Eight.
Seven...