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The Pharaoh’s Daughter
Category: Historical
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The end.