ChapterOne
October 2045 - Empire Estate, The Elvish Protectorate
The youngest of five siblings,all brothers, and a consummate cry-baby, Zia preferred to keep things on the straight and narrow. Rules made her feel grounded. Rules helped her navigate tricky social situations. Rules meant that no one would get mad at her, or laugh at her, because rules were a clear set of guidelines she could follow unerringly.
She had never willingly broken a rule in her life. She never drank a sip of alcohol before she was legally allowed to, didn’t cheat on a test, or break curfew. Her brothers might have prided themselves on mischief and mayhem, but she just couldn’t imagine everwantingto cause trouble for herself.
When Zia got the job as Empire Estate’s resident rosarian, she never would have called herself a rule-breaker.
After nearly a year on the job, she wasn’t quite so sure that was true.
She stared out the windshield of her little blue car and into the waning sunlight with growing dismay. Her deeply ingrained need for approval warred with her professional pride.
Her brothers wouldn’t have hesitated. They would have charged in through the gates, consequences be damned, and done what they pleased, while she idled in the middle of the narrow road that led to the great stone and iron gateway of the estate, wracked with indecision.
If she went through the gate, she’d lose her job.
If shedidn’tgo through the gate, a year’s worth of work would be destroyed overnight.
Zia’s fingers danced nervously over the worn synthetic material of her steering wheel. Outside, the first terrible chill of autumn came on a stiff wind. It buffeted the sides of her car, taunting her.
Maybe they’ll be all right,she thought, painfully aware of every second that passed, damning her further.Maybe the temperature won’t drop as far as the weather service says it will. Maybe—
She watched as the wind snatched at the branches of the sturdy evergreens that guarded the road to the estate. They shook violently, almost as if to say,“Don’t you care about your roses?”
Shedidcare. The estate’s long neglected rose garden was her baby, and she had been looking forward to the downtime in the autumn to work on her paper for the Rose Society about the rare variations she coaxed back to life over the past year.
In one night, nature threatened to steal all that hard work from her — as well as her job.
Zia glanced at the clock.
It was just past six in the evening. Since it was early October, it wasn’t quite dark yet. The sunset still held on with streaks of baby pink and buttery orange. Overhead, long, wispy clouds looked like unspooled cotton candy. It was sundown, but it wasn’t quitenight.
If she gunned it, she might be able to make it before she broke thebigrule.
Certainly, no one would get mad at her if she simply cut it close, right? The gates were still open, after all. There was no rule that said shecouldn’tcome back to the estate after she left for the day.
If she moved really,reallyfast, she wouldn’t break any rules at all.
You can do this.
Holding her breath, Zia let her foot off of the break and hit the gas. The estate’s road was spindly but as meticulously maintained as everything else. There were no potholes or ruts to slow her down as she careened down the road, around the gatehouse, and through the massive iron gates. A tiny parking lot for staff lay just on the other side, tucked against a tall stone fence topped with wicked iron spikes.
Zia didn’t bother trying to park like a responsible person. All the other staff had gone, and it wasn’t like she was going to get a ticket, so she simply left her car in the middle of the lot. Throwing open her door, she hit the ground running.
There was less than a half hour until the sun would go down completely and the gates would shut. She had only that much time to make the long trek to the rose garden, gather everything she needed from the greenhouse, cover all the newly planted roses, and then haul ass back to her car.
The actual procedure of covering the roses for the cold snap to come would only take about five minutes. Thewalk,on the other hand…
Well, there was a reason she normally hitched a ride on Mr. Eisele’s golf cart. He managed the whole estate, and even though he was a sour-faced old bastard, he usually waited for her arrival before he puttered off to do whatever it was he did during the day.
On a golf cart, the trip through the trees and around the massive estate to the lush, stonewalled rose garden was beautiful and brief. On foot it was much, much longer.
Wishing she hadn’t thrown on her cute, oversized sweater after she got off from work that day, Zia jogged around the sprawling lawn and the glittering fountains barely discernible in the distance. The manor house, old and beautifully built with local granite and gorgeous leaded windows, rose up from behind a wall of stout trees separating it from the rest of the courtyard.
Like every other time she saw it, Zia hastily averted her eyes and moved faster.
Goosebumps broke out across her skin as she picked up her pace. The air was cold in her lungs, scraping at the tender flesh of her throat with each breath. The scents of pine and damp earth clung to the back of her tongue.
