By Stephen Tyndale-Biscoe
PROLOGUE
IN the blink of an eye a moment splits open, and falling between realities softly you land.
Two figures are approaching, and someone’s shouting “Make way for the King! Make way for Prince Egmar! Stand back!”
The elder of the pair wears astonishing headgear and a stupendous beard with jewels woven into it, and it is apparent he takes great care of his appearance.
Not yet apparent is that his Queen takes care of his kingdom - much as a mobster takes care of business.
Prince Egmar is tall and strikingly beautiful, and a stranger would soon learn that the queen is his step-mother.
She is approaching now, her dark eyes darting, and beside her is Prince Sigmar, her son, limping slightly but compact and sturdy.
You cannot see it in her expression because she has trained her face to give nothing of
her thoughts away, but when she looks at Egmar, she knows for sure he’ll not live long.
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