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The Italian Affair
Category: Romance
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The end.