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The Conqueror’s Wife
Category: Historical
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
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.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The end.