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The Romanov Diary
Category: Historical
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The end.