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Crown of Thorns
Category: Historical
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
A knock at the door changed everything.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The end.