A Shimmer Between

A Shimmer Between The Lost Kingdom Book One Evelyn Sage Copyright Copyright © 2023 Evelyn Sage All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in review. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Book design by WBM Design. Contents . Chapter Dedication 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Chapter 11 12. Chapter 12 13. Chapter 13 14. Chapter 14 15. Chapter 15 16. Chapter 16 17. Chapter 17 18. Chapter 18 19. Chapter 19 20. Chapter 20 21. Chapter 21 22. Chapter 22 23. Chapter 23 24. Chapter 24 25. Chapter 25 26. Chapter 26 27. Chapter 27 28. Chapter 28 29. Chapter 29 30. Chapter 30 31. Chapter 31 32. Chapter 32 33. Chapter 33 34. Chapter 34 Epilogue Author’s Note Acknowledgments For a list of trigger warnings,please visit www.authorevelynsage.com Dedication To the believers—in magic, in love. And to my love, who made me a believer. Chapter 1 Cold metal kissed my thigh as I pushed my way through the crush of people. My fingers itched to grasp the dagger hidden beneath my plain dress, but no. I pulled the hood of my black cloak tighter instead, careful to conceal my face, moving down the cobblestoned streets with my head bowed. Stolen glances guided me through the throng—a dart of the eyes, peripheral vision, nothing more. Past stalls and vendors, breathing in the fragrance of freshly baked bread and roasting meats along with the bitter stench of bodies that hadn’t bathed in much too long. Here on the Road of Merchants, Vanhal’s squalor was on full display. Buildings were greyed by grime and smoke. People wore tattered rags, some patched over with whatever fabric they had scrounged—drapes, linens, sacks. Each time I ventured to the market square, it seemed their faces were more gaunt, cheeks hollower, eyes bruised dark from sleepless nights. Long ago, the Road of Merchants attracted sellers and buyers from all over the world. Spices from distant continents filled the air and languages from faraway lands echoed through the streets. Drunken laughter spilled out of the bars and gold jangled as it passed hands. Only a few years ago, I wouldn’t have been allowed to roam the market without an entourage of King’s Commanders. It wasn’t exactly a proper place for a princess to be seen alone, after all, but since then, Father managed to lose half of his force because he periodically “forgot” to pay their salaries. For months at a time. Vanhal’s fall from prosperity had been steep. Gone were Mother’s weekly feasts and balls with orchestras and opera singers sailed in from across the sea. The constant stream of courtesans from distant kingdoms, carriages jostling down the cobblestones, couturiers and shoemakers whose shops once lined the Road of Merchants—they had dried up years ago. But all wasn’t lost, there was still Beltane. Women wore chains of white wildflowers draped around their necks. Later tonight, they’d drink whatever liquor the taverns served and forget their troubles for a few hours, even if the holiday was said to be the one day each year the fae king returned from his lost kingdom. And while most believed the legend of the lost kingdom was nothing more than a fairy tale, women still wore the garlands as proof of their so-called purity. The legends, of course, also claimed fae could see through lies, but apparently that was neither here nor there because every woman wore a garland, maiden or not. I narrowly avoided one myself, ducking low as a woman reached to string the flowers over my head. A man shouldered me as I came back up and my hand instinctively flew to the dagger, but he muttered an apology. I drew a deep breath, trying to relax. If I was spotted, I doubted anyone would seriously harm me, but then again, as I moved through the crowd, I caught whispered words—another tithe, that bastard king, and most frightening of all, revolt. Once, it was a dreaded word. Now… I almost wished they would. Father had driven the entire kingdom to bankruptcy; he didn’t deserve the throne he sat on. If they did revolt, Father had it coming, even if he was still grieving. But revolts introduce unknowns, power vacuums and uncontrollable outcomes. Who would sweep in to take our family’s place? A despot, if history had anything to say about it. And I couldn’t allow that. I stopped at a stall with a banner that read, Sell Your Goods. When the trader noticed me, he sighed and tucked his silver pocket watch into his jacket crafted of exquisite silk and dyed a deep violet. “If you wait a moment, my help will be back. Little shit needed to piss,” he grumbled. “No time,” I said, trying to pitch my voice deeper than it was. Not that he would recognize me. He was clearly a foreigner, flashing that silver around here. Nobody in Vanhal had that kind of money anymore—not even my father, the king. I hoped someone would warn him to not leave whatever ship he had sailed in on after dark. But then he gave me a once over and wrinkled his nose. “And what goods could you possibly have to sell?” I decided then, that I wouldn’t warn him, but hesitated to withdraw the bracelet I was clutching in my cloak pocket. Most of what I had inherited from Mother was already gone, but that was her fault – and Father’s, of course. Anyway, in a few days, Vanhal’s money woes would be solved, but between now