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Throne of Thorns
Category: Fantasy
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
A knock at the door changed everything.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The end.