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Throne of Thorns
Category: Fantasy
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
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.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The end.