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The Painted Veil
Category: Historical
A knock at the door changed everything.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
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 fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The end.