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The Conqueror’s Wife
Category: Historical
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The end.