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The Conqueror’s Wife
Category: Historical
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The end.