“Don’t ever go through the back door of the inn.”

That was the one rule of my job. A simple rule, really. Okay, there were a lot of rules, but this one in particular was growled with a hint of violence by Mr. Valheimr in such a way that I was almost inclined to listen.

Almost.

I wasn’t always an avid rule breaker. Weaver, I was once the picture of perfect poise and mind-numbing naivety. But a sheltered life in the small town of Rosenvale tended to make simple, mortal human girls like me that way.

The world was a scary place, full of tyrannical kings and twisted mages and epic adventures of the fated souls who were destined to save it or end it. But Rosenvale was certainly not one of those worlds. And I was not one of those people.

Honestly, I was okay with that. I was content to live out my days as a lowly barmaid, to find my Weaver-blessed mate, and to live happily ever after. 

But sometimes finding that happy ending required breaking some simple rules.

Like stepping through that forbidden back door of the Rosenvale Inn.