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The Pharaoh’s Daughter
Category: Historical
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
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 train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The end.