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The Samurai’s Honor
Category: Historical
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The end.