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The Romanov Diary
Category: Historical
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The end.