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The Italian Affair
Category: Romance
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
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.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The end.