Chapter 5
Amelia sat on her couch, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone as her mind wandered back to Thomas. Their conversations had become a routine part of her days—comforting, even. But today, she sensed something different in the connection. There was a heaviness that hung between them, a tension she hadn't felt before.
She closed her eyes, reaching out through the invisible bond that spanned centuries, searching for Thomas's familiar presence.
"Thomas?" she called softly in her mind, waiting for his response.
After a moment, his voice came through, though it wasn't filled with the usual warmth she had grown accustomed to. Instead, it was strained, as though he was carrying a burden he didn't know how to share.
"Amelia," he said, his tone quieter than usual. "I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."
"You sound... different," she said, worry creeping into her voice. "What's wrong?"
There was a long pause before he answered, and she could almost hear the conflict in his thoughts, the hesitation to burden her with whatever weighed him down. But eventually, he spoke, his words tinged with unease.
"There's something I must tell you," he began slowly. "I've tried to keep it from you, not wanting to worry you, but... there is a matter that has been troubling me. A confrontation is looming, one that I fear could lead to danger."
Amelia's heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. The intensity of his emotions seeped through their connection, and for the first time, she truly felt the weight of the world he lived in—a world fraught with dangers she couldn't begin to understand.
"What kind of confrontation?" she asked, sitting up straighter, her pulse quickening.
"There is a man," Thomas explained, his voice thick with tension. "A powerful figure in my town. Lord Beckett. He is not a man to be crossed lightly, yet I fear I have done just that. He controls much of the land and the livelihoods of those who live here, and he does so with a heavy hand. He expects obedience, and I have... refused to comply with his demands."
Amelia's mind raced as she tried to make sense of what Thomas was telling her. The name "Lord Beckett" sent a chill down her spine, though she didn't know much about the politics of Thomas's time. What she did know was that Thomas had always been clear about his desire for freedom, for the ability to pursue his art without interference. But this sounded like something more dangerous than just creative expression.
"What did he want from you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Beckett owns much of the land surrounding my family's estate," Thomas explained. "He has been pressuring my father to sell our remaining lands to him, and my father is considering it. But I—" His voice faltered for a moment, and Amelia could feel the conflict in his thoughts. "I can't allow it. Those lands are the only thing left of my family's legacy. If we lose them, we lose everything."
"But standing up to him… that could be dangerous, right?" Amelia asked, her worry deepening. She could sense that Thomas wasn't telling her everything, that there was something more at stake.
"It's more than just the land," Thomas admitted, his voice low and troubled. "Beckett is not a man to be trifled with. He has a reputation for dealing harshly with those who oppose him. I fear that by resisting him, I may have put myself—and my family—in danger. He is set to visit us in two days, and I suspect it will not be a peaceful conversation."
Amelia's stomach churned with anxiety. She wanted to help Thomas, to guide him through this looming confrontation, but the limitations of their connection—of their very existence in different centuries—hung over her like a storm cloud. How could she, from her modern life, offer any real assistance to him in his world?
"Thomas, is there any way to avoid this?" she asked, desperate to find a solution. "Can't you reason with your father? Or maybe find some way to delay the meeting?"
"My father is already in Beckett's pocket," Thomas said bitterly. "He believes selling the land is the only way to secure our future, to ensure that we don't fall into ruin. But I know what it will mean—it will give Beckett control over everything. I can't let that happen, even if it means facing him head-on."
Amelia's mind spun with possibilities, but each one seemed more impossible than the last. She felt a rising sense of helplessness—how could she stand by while Thomas faced this danger? She longed to reach through time, to warn him, to help him find another way. But she was bound by the constraints of history, by the knowledge that meddling in the past could have disastrous consequences.
"I don't know what to do," she confessed, her voice trembling. "I want to help you, but I don't know how. What if… what if something happens to you?"
"I don't expect you to fix this, Amelia," Thomas said softly, his tone filled with a quiet acceptance. "But just knowing that you're here, that I'm not alone in this… it helps more than you can imagine. I've never had anyone to share these fears with. My father won't listen, and my friends—they wouldn't understand. But you… you do. And that gives me strength."
His words were like a balm to her frayed nerves, but they didn't erase the fear gnawing at her insides. She could feel the magnitude of what was about to happen, the sense that this confrontation with Lord Beckett could change everything for Thomas. And though she knew she shouldn't interfere with history, the idea of standing idly by while he faced such a threat was unbearable.
"Promise me you'll be careful," she urged, her voice breaking. "Promise me you won't do anything reckless."
"I will do what I must to protect my family and our legacy," Thomas replied, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "But I promise, I will not act rashly. I will approach Beckett with caution, and I will try to find a way to avoid unnecessary conflict. I give you my word, Amelia."
Amelia exhaled, her chest tight with worry but filled with a small flicker of hope. She had no idea what the future held, but for now, she had to trust Thomas's judgment.
"I'll be here," she said quietly. "Whatever happens, I'll be here with you."
"That is all I need," he replied, his voice soft but resolute. "Thank you, Amelia. For everything."
Their connection faded, and Amelia was left sitting in her quiet apartment, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. She stared out the window at the bustling city streets below, her mind filled with thoughts of a world hundreds of years in the past. She had no idea what would happen when Thomas faced Lord Beckett, but she knew one thing for certain: she couldn't let him go through it alone.
As she sat there, lost in thought, she made a silent vow to herself. She would find a way to help him, no matter the cost. Even if it meant walking the fine line between history and her heart, she couldn't turn her back on the man who had come to mean so much to her.
Time itself might stand between them, but love—and the desire to protect those we care about—was a force far more powerful than the ticking of a clock.