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Crown of Thorns
Category: Historical
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
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.
The end.