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The Romanov Diary
Category: Historical
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
A knock at the door changed everything.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
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 market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The end.