Since the beginning of time, humanity has told stories. Some being tall tales of ogres and giants, others legends of Knights and round tables.
Many stories fade over surplus time, others naturally change when the word is passed over.
It could almost be regarded as unsettling that the majority of people who have lived and breathed the very same air as you and I, and the stories they once told, have been lost over time, mere ash in oblivion.
The passing of the word is the only thing that keeps a person swept from the cruel tainting of history. To become part of that world, you must survive when others cannot, a survivor to the direst of cruelties inflicted by others, and of the cruelty of your own.
So, here's my story, without bias, without blemish.
I am Edith of Scotland, and it is time for my story to be told.
YOU ARE READING
The Cost Of The Crown
Historical FictionIts hard to love someone you were taught to hate. But what if they are the only person that can help settle a wrong and unite two countries. "So your telling me you think that everyone in that room truly gives a fuck about you? They dont, and if yo...
