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The Conqueror’s Wife
Category: Historical
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The end.