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Sword of Destiny
Category: Historical
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The end.