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The Pharaoh’s Daughter
Category: Historical
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The end.