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The Romanov Diary
Category: Historical
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
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.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
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.