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The Pharaoh’s Daughter
Category: Historical
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The end.