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Throne of Thorns
Category: Fantasy
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The end.