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The Crystal Sword
Category: Fantasy
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The end.