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The Romanov Diary
Category: Historical
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
A knock at the door changed everything.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The end.