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The Romanov Diary
Category: Historical
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The end.