Skip to content
The Romanov Diary
Category: Historical
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
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.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The end.