(picture courtesy of flickr.cc)
The city was burning, the choking smell of war-despair heavy in the streets. Refugees of a moment’s notice, an hour ago simply people, rushed and stumbled with their hearts in hasty bundles and packs, desperate.
Quick and lethal, the Duchess’ armies had struck after their mistress had been refused one last time, rejected by this city’s eleven year old Duke who was, she said, the love of her life.
Three proposals, three rejections, and now her armies came in like the tide. Spurned and insulted, she told the world. She did not mention the city’s gold reserves.
This is in response to three prompts - Write on Edge's quotation (“Because there’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it’s sent away.”), Studio30Plus's phrase ("Quick and Lethal") and Light and Shade Challenge's quotation ("She tells enough white lies to ice a wedding cake")