Skip to content
The Pharaoh’s Daughter
Category: Historical
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The end.