A Shimmer Between by Evelyn Sage EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Evelyn Sage
- Language: English
- Genre: Mythology & Folk Tales
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2MB
- Price: Free
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.
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Long ago, the Road of Merchants attracted sellers and buyers from all
over the world. Spices from distant continents filled the air and languages
C
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.
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