Saved by a Stranger

The fight ended in just moments. Amara stood still, mesmerized by the mysterious man as he moved with deadly skill.

His sword cut through the air, each blow delivered with confidence and accuracy.

Realizing they were outmatched, the highwaymen, fled into the trees, their shouts fading away.

A quiet settled over the clearing. The man turned to Amara, his sharp gray eyes examining her closely. For a moment, she was speechless.

"You're safe now," he said, his voice calm yet commanding.

He put away his sword and stepped closer, moving carefully and without threat. "What brings you to these woods alone, madam?"

Amara felt the urge to create a convincing story. "I… I got lost," she stammered, clutching the artifact behind her back.

He raised an eyebrow, doubt clear on his face. "Lost, you say? Dressed like that?" His eyes scanned her jeans and boots.

"I'm a traveler," she quickly replied, hoping to sound convincing. "I took a wrong turn and… ended up here."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded in understanding. "Very well. These woods are dangerous. I'll take you to safety." Before she could protest, he led her to his horse and effortlessly lifted her into the saddle.

The ride was silent, broken only by the steady sound of hooves on the ground.

Amara's mind raced with questions. Where was she? More importantly, when was she?

As they emerged from the trees, a grand estate appeared. The manor stretched out before her, its stone walls glowing in the flickering torchlight.

It looked like a scene from a historical movie, and for a moment, she wondered if she had stumbled onto a film set.

The man dismounted smoothly and offered his hand. "I'm Lord James Harrington. Welcome to Harrington Hall."

Amara took his hand and replied, "Amara Blake."