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The Romanov Diary
Category: Historical
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
A knock at the door changed everything.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The end.