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The Italian Affair
Category: Romance
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The end.