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Throne of Thorns
Category: Fantasy
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 train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
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.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The end.