Skip to content
Crown of Thorns
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.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The end.