Short Story Historical Fiction 소설 & 이야기

There were entries made at different times, as if someone had meticulously detailed whatever had been happening at that moment in time. As Eric had said, many stories were woven together. I often stopped to question Eric on the authenticity of what I was reading. He confirmed my thoughts. These were truly historic books that had been kept within the royal family for centuries. I scanned through some parts of the stories, until I stumbled onto something interesting. “Eric?” I asked. “Yes, sweetheart?” he asked looking over to me. “What does this mean?” I asked, pushing the book towards him. He scanned the contents before he looked up at me. “Holy shit!”.

Piko rubbed his own forehead while the other snickered and giggled from his carelessly nature. All the time the children were talking, Torfo was listening intently to them. He didn't know what he should respond to these kids because he was speechless. They were living in a backwater area like this, yet they read history. Even Torfo's classmates at school would only read history books when there's a homework or a test. Some of them considered the history to be boring, and only picked the tale they liked the most like the story of Lady Arianna. Not many people would read small battle books like what Torfo was reading right now. So he was a bit elated that he found them, being very young, learn

AMARACHI'S POV. Whoever wrote that article in the school's student journal must be very stupid. He/She probably has a personal issue with Christabel. Nothing in that article is right. Christabel never begged Jeff to have sex with her. This crazy! Who would have done this? I don’t think Jeff did this but apart from Ade, Michelle and me, no one else knows that Christabel likes Jeff. Taking one more look at the article, I hissed and annoyingly left the page. The comments were very nasty.

Sleeping on the same bed became a habit for her, at first it bothered her to the extant of waking up with muscle cramps every single morning during the first couple weeks, she would become tense and rigid every time he joined her to bed. ... "So what book are you going to choose ?"Asked a curious Ethan as they both stood in front of the non ending shelves while Rebecca already sat on her own rocker. "This one." she put her finger on an old looking book "Old bloodline." he read the title. "I see you like historical books, well there you go now i have to find a book to read too." he spoke as she took a seat on the crimson red armchair just next to the fireplace. Maids brought tea and pastries

I close the book when I reach the part where he goes down on her in public, knowing there are multiple guards around. Fucking hell, what kind of life did people think she led? I go back to the bookshelves in my office, picking out of the first that catches my eyes. It is still about her, the more historically accurate one. Not the real one but at least it doesn’t have ten pages describing how thoroughly satisfied and satiated she is. This covers more of her early life, how they got that information is beyond me because I doubted she’d told anyone the story. It is still a good read but not good enough a distraction for me.

SHARON’S POV I never imagined I would step foot into the royal library for anything other than sneaking in to read fantasy novels I had no business touching. The irony wasn’t lost on me as I sat at the long mahogany table now, a stack of heavy history books in front of me, none of which had dragons, witches, or star-crossed lovers on the covers. The head historian, Elder Marcellus, cleared his throat for what felt like the hundredth time. The man was ancient, his white beard reached almost to his stomach, and he had the habit of adjusting his spectacles every two sentences even when they didn’t need adjusting.

In the bottom left corner, her insignia was written in silver - FreedomAgain, with a small, melting candle next to it, illuminating the whole piece. Celeste had taken inspiration for her name from the Haitian slave who’d resisted French colonial rule in the 18th century. Hers was a story of true rebellion - organizing escaped slaves, and sending them out in a guerrilla war, poisoning the water supplies of the colonial masters. For her crimes, her punishment was severe - burning at the stake, a warning to other slaves of the price of resistance. Celeste had taken her inspiration for this piece from an incident she’d seen on the tube no less than three weeks ago. A homeless man had been forcib

I had chosen a small town in southern Italor, a place where Mom had lived as a young girl. Mom often told me stories about this place when I was little. She'd tell me about the white houses surrounded by lemon trees, an azure coastline, and the peace of church bells echoing through the mountains at dusk. After Mom passed away, Dad had wanted to bring me here to settle down, but he was always too tied up with the family business to make it happen. Now, I had come on their behalf. I rented a small apartment facing the sea, with its white walls slightly warmed by the sun. On the windowsill sat a pot of blooming bougainvilleas.

He takes it and scans the lines quickly. “Where did you get this?” I ask. “My parents collected books from all over the world. I have no idea where this one came from.” His face stays mostly blank as he reads. He clearly doesn’t care much for old books. “These are just boring words.” “This is history about Zephyra’s kind. They’re called Crimson Born in this book, and if you look here, they have a queen usually sent down by the goddess.” “This is just fiction.” “Who writes fiction this way?” I groan. “Look at how it’s written

It would be quite possible. --- Did you like the story and want more? So look at my other two books. In The Knights of the Princess she is the main character, but if you want to know more about her origins, see The Heirs of Thea. ---