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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The end.