Love Through Regency Hours

Chapter 1: The Locket’s Secret

It all began with a full moon and an old locket I didn’t even know I still had.

The night was quiet, the kind of silence that presses down on you, heavy and expectant. I was sitting on my small balcony, wrapped in a soft blanket, lost in thought. The city lights below flickered like distant stars, but my mind was miles away, swirling in memories I’d rather forget. Guilt, regret — all those heavy feelings that sometimes crept in when the world went still.

I hadn’t touched the locket in years. It was a family heirloom, passed down from my grandmother to my mother, and then to me. A small silver oval, slightly tarnished with age, engraved with delicate vines and flowers that almost seemed alive in the moonlight. It had been buried in the bottom of an old jewelry box, forgotten and ignored, until tonight when some impulse made me pull it out.

I ran my fingers over its surface, feeling the cool metal. The locket was old, maybe centuries old, but it had always seemed ordinary to me. Just a piece of family history, a trinket that carried stories I didn’t really understand. But tonight, something was different.

As I held it up to the moon, the clasp snapped open, releasing a tiny click that echoed in the quiet night. I barely had time to react before a strange, silvery mist began to swirl from inside, spiraling up like smoke. My breath caught in my throat, and I watched, frozen, as the mist wrapped around me, curling like a serpent. It was cold against my skin, colder than the autumn night, and my heart raced with a sudden, unexplainable fear.

The world around me began to blur.

My balcony faded, the city lights disappeared, and everything was replaced by a spinning vortex of mist. I tried to scream, to move, but my body wouldn’t obey. The cold grew sharper, biting into my skin, and then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped.

I stumbled forward, gasping, as the mist dissolved, leaving me standing in the middle of… somewhere. Somewhere that definitely wasn’t my balcony.

The first thing I noticed was the smell: fresh, like earth after rain, mixed with the faint scent of flowers. I blinked, looking around in confusion. I was no longer in my city. I wasn’t even in my own time.

Before me stretched a narrow street lined with small shops and cottages, all built from stone and wood. There were no cars, no streetlights, no sounds of the modern world. Instead, the road was lit by the soft glow of gas lamps, their flickering flames casting long shadows on the cobblestones.

The people walking by were dressed in long, flowing clothes that looked straight out of a history book. Women in elegant gowns, men in tailcoats and top hats. I felt my heart thud in my chest as I looked down at myself. My jeans and sweater looked absurdly out of place in this world.

“Where… am I?” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of a distant horse-drawn carriage clattering by.

A wave of panic surged through me. This couldn’t be real. Maybe I was dreaming, or maybe I’d finally lost it. But the cool night air, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze — it all felt far too real. Too vivid.

I reached into my pocket, fingers trembling, and pulled out the locket. It was still there, cold and heavy in my palm, but now it felt different. Alive, almost. Like it had a purpose I didn’t understand.

I stumbled forward, unsure of where I was going, but too afraid to stay still. People passed by, glancing at me curiously. I was out of place here, a stranger in their world, and they knew it.

As I made my way toward a small market square, I caught sight of him. A man standing across the square, tall and striking, his posture impossibly elegant. He wore a long, dark coat, the collar turned up against the cool night air, and his dark hair was swept back in a way that looked both effortless and intentional. But it was his eyes that caught me. Even from a distance, they seemed to pierce through the night, locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.

For a moment, the world around me fell away. The chatter of the market, the clatter of hooves — it all faded into the background as we stood there, locked in a silent exchange. Something about him felt… familiar. Like I knew him, somehow, though I couldn’t place how or why.

I stepped forward, drawn to him, but my foot caught on the uneven cobblestone, and I stumbled. In an instant, he was moving toward me, swift and graceful, his coat billowing behind him. But before he could reach me, a hand grabbed my arm, yanking me backward into the shadows of a nearby alley.

“You don’t belong here,” a voice hissed in my ear.

I spun around, my heart pounding, to find myself face-to-face with a woman. Her features were sharp, her eyes narrow and filled with suspicion. She wore a long cloak, the hood pulled low over her brow, hiding most of her face.

“What?” I stammered, trying to pull away from her iron grip.

“You need to leave. Now,” she insisted, her voice low but urgent. “If you stay here, you’ll ruin everything.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “Where am I? Who are you?”

The woman’s gaze flicked past me, toward the man I’d been staring at. He was closer now, watching us with those intense eyes, his expression unreadable.

“Trust me,” the woman said, her voice tight with warning. “This isn’t your world. You don’t belong with them.”

I turned to glance back at the man, my heart torn between the mystery of his presence and the urgency of the woman’s warning. But as I looked back at her, she was already slipping into the shadows, vanishing into the misty night.

I stood frozen, caught between two worlds, my pulse racing as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. The locket in my hand pulsed with a strange, almost alive energy, as if urging me to make a choice.

And in that moment, I knew — this was just the beginning.

***
As I stepped back into the light of the market square, I could feel eyes on me — not just from the man, but from others, hidden in the shadows. The locket in my hand felt heavier than ever, and I realized with a sinking heart that I was in far more danger than I had imagined.