Chapter 1: The Unforeseen Journey

The ancient library at Oxford University was a haven of quietude, filled with the musty scent of aged parchment and the soft rustling of turning pages. Twenty - two - year - old Amelia Thompson, a passionate history major with a penchant for medieval studies, sat at a secluded corner table, her nose buried in a thick, leather - bound tome. The dim, warm glow of the overhead lamp cast a golden hue over her chestnut - brown hair and freckled cheeks as she meticulously studied the faded illustrations of 14th - century England.

Amelia had always felt a deep connection to the past, especially the medieval era. She was enthralled by its tales of chivalry, political intrigue, and the stark contrast between the lives of the nobility and the common folk. This particular book, a rare manuscript she had been granted special access to, detailed the court life of King Edward III. It was filled with accounts of grand feasts, jousting tournaments, and the complex web of alliances and betrayals that defined the era.

As she turned another brittle page, her finger accidentally caught on a loose thread. With a gentle tug, the thread began to unravel, revealing a hidden compartment within the binding of the book. Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet, was a small, intricately carved amulet. It was shaped like a Celtic knot, with delicate patterns etched into the silver surface. The amulet seemed to pulse with a faint, otherworldly light, drawing Amelia in like a moth to a flame.

Amelia picked up the amulet, her heart pounding in her chest. As her fingers closed around it, a strange sensation washed over her. The air around her began to swirl, and the library faded into a blur of colors. She felt a sharp tug, as if she was being pulled through a tunnel at breakneck speed. Panic welled up inside her as she tried to let go of the amulet, but her fingers seemed to be stuck to it, as if by some invisible force.

When the swirling finally stopped, Amelia found herself lying on the cold, hard ground. She groaned and sat up, her head spinning. The first thing she noticed was the smell—instead of the familiar scent of books, she was surrounded by the earthy aroma of damp soil, mixed with the pungent smell of horses and the faint hint of woodsmoke. She looked around, her eyes widening in shock.

Gone were the modern buildings of Oxford. In their place stood a bustling medieval village. Thatched cottages lined the muddy streets, and people dressed in rough, homespun clothing went about their daily tasks. Men in tunics and hose carried baskets of goods, while women in long, flowing dresses chatted animatedly as they hung laundry to dry. In the distance, a massive stone castle loomed, its imposing walls and tall turrets a stark reminder of the power and might of the nobility.

Amelia's heart skipped a beat. She was no stranger to historical reenactments, but this was different. This was too real, too detailed. The sounds, the smells, the textures—everything felt authentic. She looked down at herself and realized with horror that her modern jeans and sweater had been replaced with a simple, coarse linen dress. The amulet was still clutched tightly in her hand, its glow now a steady, soft light.

"What is this place?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Just then, a group of men on horseback rode into the village. They were dressed in chainmail and carried swords, their helmets adorned with colorful plumes. The villagers immediately stopped what they were doing and bowed their heads respectfully as the men passed by. Amelia watched, transfixed, as the leader of the group, a tall, broad - shouldered man with jet - black hair and intense blue eyes, scanned the crowd. His gaze landed on Amelia, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Amelia felt a strange flutter in her stomach as the man's eyes met hers. There was something about him, an air of authority and confidence that was both intimidating and captivating. Without thinking, she took a step back, her foot slipping on the muddy ground. She let out a yelp as she began to fall, but before she hit the ground, strong arms caught her.

"Are you alright, my lady?" the man asked, his voice deep and smooth.

Amelia looked up into his face, her breath catching in her throat. Up close, he was even more handsome, with chiseled features and a strong jawline. "I... I think so," she stammered, blushing furiously.

The man helped her to her feet, his grip firm but gentle. "You seem lost. Are you from around here?"

Amelia opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it again. How could she explain that she was from the future? That she had somehow traveled back in time through a magical amulet? "I... I'm just passing through," she finally said, hoping her answer was vague enough.

The man nodded, his expression curious. "Well, be careful. These are troubled times, and it's not safe for a young woman to be alone. If you need any help, you can come to the castle. I am Lord William de Montfort, and I would be happy to offer you my protection."

With that, he mounted his horse and rode away, leaving Amelia standing in the middle of the village, feeling more confused and scared than ever. She looked down at the amulet in her hand, wondering if it held the key to getting back home. But for now, she was stuck in 14th - century England, a stranger in a strange land with no idea what the future held.