Skip to content
The Conqueror’s Wife
Category: Historical
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The end.