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The Heart of the Storm
Category: Fantasy
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
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.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
A knock at the door changed everything.
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 end.