𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

CHAPTER 1:

METEMPSYCHOSIS

- the supposed transportation at the death of the soul of a human being or animal into a new body of the same or a different species."

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LINCOLNSHIRE COUNTY; 18 JULY 1508.

Sunlight emerges as woven strands, free and united, kissing the delicate skin of a girl.

The girl blinks her sparkling blue eyes slowly to remove the blur.

Oh, my sweeting! Are you alright? Will she be alright sir?"

"Ahem, Lady Margaret can you hear me?"

"Is she okay?"

"Seems to me Maggie pulled that stunt because our cousin is here!"

"OUCH! Lady Mother that hurts!"

"Hush!"

The girl Margaret chose to ignore the people and commotion around her. The headache she had threatened to cripple her skull.

Cecily of York, Viscountess of Welles narrowed her icy blue eyes as she stared at her youngest daughter. She felt something was amiss.

Margaret gazed in stupefied astonishment for the first and probably the only time in her life.

Infront of her stood a younger boy grinning from ear to ear that resembles her in looks: he was a tall messy redhead with large blue eyes and a sprinkle of freckles over an upturned nose. What shocked her more was the fact that he wore grey round hose breeches paired with a white doublet that was covered in dirt.

As a matter of fact all the people staring at her with faces painted in genuine concern were dressed in old-fashioned clothes.

'Close your eyes, Meg, and count to five, when you open them this awkward dream will be gone.'

Closing her eyes for a few precious moments Margaret breathes deeply and lets her breath out in a long, relaxing sigh.

The boy gave a deep bass guffaw, "Lady Mother mad cow Maggie has truly lost her wits by getting struck with my lucky ball. I sincerely apologize for my part in it." He ended off sarcastically.

The blonde-haired Viscountess of Welles watched anxiously as the physician read Margaret's temperature, ignoring the words of her son.

Margaret felt baffled. Her dream was taking its own course and felt more like reality!

"What is wrong with her Sir Barrett?"

The respectable family physician Hugh Barrett cleared his throat and coughed a little before voicing his prognosis, "Miss Kyme was knocked unconscious for a brief period by the ball and I am afraid to daresay this...but she somehow has lost her memory!"

"No! No!" Lady Cecily dramatically fell into the arms of her son whose face strikingly resembled hers: both were coated in paleness, but tremendous guilt was also drawn on his.