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The Pharaoh’s Daughter
Category: Historical
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 letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The end.