The Spring Summoner and the Winter Duke

A Northern Reception

As the sun peeked out over the Frozen Highlands, casting a pale, wintry glow over the snow-covered forests and glacial rivers, Adelaide practically buzzed with excitement in her carriage. Her nose tingled from the biting cold that seeped through the carriage window, but the beauty of the North was overwhelming. It was nothing like she had ever seen before—a chilling, icy majesty, not unlike her brother Thorne Gelid, the Winter Summoner. The snow glistened like diamonds, and the frostbitten waterfalls hung suspended like intricate sculptures.

So this is the North, she thought, eyes wide with wonder. So much colder than Sundermarsh or Risenholt… but no less beautiful.

Her breath fogged the window as she leaned closer, her golden-blonde hair catching the faint light and the small blooms threaded through her waves blossoming in delight at her mood. She couldn’t wait to step out and feel the crisp air on her face, and explore the untouched snow beneath her feet.

As she looked out at the passing scenery, her thoughts drifted back to when she’d last been home, at the Summit of Seasons. The other Great Elemental Summoners had been waiting for her, their faces a mix of concern and affection. She hadn’t even properly crossed the threshold when Kaelen, the fiery Summer Summoner, had swept her into a bear hug, his sun-bronzed arms enveloping her.

"I’m so sorry, Adelaide," he had said, his amber eyes filled with guilt. "You should’ve never gotten hurt. I should’ve been there—"

Before he could finish, she had giggled and hugged him back. “It wasn’t your fault, Brother Kaelen! Besides, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

"NO!" Her words had barely left her lips before the collective shout rang out, echoing through the Summit. Adelaide groaned, covering her sensitive ears.

Thorne had stood at the edge of the group, arms folded, his icy blue eyes more severe than usual. "You shouldn’t have to. That’s our role."

Rowena’s hazel eyes had darkened with concern, her auburn hair glowing like the last rays of autumn. "You’re too reckless sometimes, Adelaide. We have to protect you."

Adelaide had only giggled again, the buds in her hair blooming into tiny flowers, filling the room with their delicate scent. "I missed you all!" she had chimed as if their scolding hadn’t happened at all.

And just like that, the weight of their worries seemed to lift, if only for a moment. It was impossible for them to stay upset when their youngest sister was around. They weren’t truly siblings, of course. They came from different walks of life, some from noble families, others from modest beginnings, all summoned by their unique powers. But having grown up together under the same tutelage, fighting alongside one another on the battlefield, they had become inseparable. In every sense that mattered, they were family.

Adelaide nuzzled against Kaelen's chest, his warm embrace comforting, but the weight of what she had to say weighed heavily on her. She glanced up at them, her face suddenly serious, and the lightheartedness in the room vanished in an instant.

“I have to tell you all something,” her voice echoed in their heads, carried along by the blessing of Vocius, the Spirit of Language and Communication. The Summoners were forever connected by this divine channel, able to speak to each other telepathically when needed. And this moment—this conversation—was definitely one that required it.

The others waited, sensing the gravity of her words.

"There’s something wrong with the capital," she began, her voice soft. "They were keeping me captive at the temple."

Almost immediately, Kaelen’s arm around her tightened, and she felt the fury brewing beneath his skin. The veins in his neck stood out sharply, his fiery nature barely contained. She patted his arm quickly, trying to soothe him before he lost his temper.

“I'm going to investigate,” she continued calmly, “but it's clear I'm being targeted, so I’ll leave the capital for a while. I’ll trust you all to handle things here.”

The other Summoners exchanged tense glances. They didn’t like this—her going off on her own, being in danger without at least one of them there to protect her. Adelaide expected as much.

"Where are you going?" Thorne’s voice, always as cold and direct as the winter winds, cut through the silence.

Adelaide’s lips curved into a mischievous smile, and she spoke aloud this time. "I’m going to marry Duke Belfort!" Her hands rested on her hips, chest puffed up with pride at her grand plan.

The room froze. Kaelen’s eyes twitched, Rowena’s brow furrowed in shock, and even Thorne looked momentarily thrown off. None of them had been expecting that.

"What?" Kaelen was the first to break the stunned silence, his fiery temper bubbling dangerously close to the surface. “No. Absolutely not. I’ll talk to him myself. I won’t let some—"

"No, brother Kaelen,” Adelaide cut in quickly, her eyes narrowing playfully but with a note of warning. “You can’t bully my future husband. His Majesty has already given me his blessing. It’s done.”

Kaelen looked as though he might combust on the spot. Rowena’s elegant composure cracked, her mouth opening and closing in disbelief, while Thorne… Thorne was deep in thought, a concerned look creasing his pale brow. Thorne, hailing from Aurenfell, had personally met the Duke on several occasions. They both had similarly cold dispositions, so he was concerned that Belfort would be unable to treat his youngest well.

Wait. Something didn’t add up.

"Adelaide, remind me. How old are you?" Thorne asked slowly, his ice-blue eyes narrowing as he calculated the timeline.

"I’ll turn twenty-five next spring," she shrugged as though it didn’t matter.

Thorne’s face paled even more. “Adelaide, he’s nine years older than you…”

She blinked at him, her brows rising in mild surprise. "Oh, really?" she asked, completely unfazed.

That was all it took for Rowena to faint away, her body crumpling gracefully to the floor as though the sheer shock of the news was too much for her delicate autumnal soul.

Adelaide gasped, rushing to her side in a panic. “Sister Rowena! Wake up!” she cried, frantically shaking her. “Don’t faint! I need you!”

Kaelen was vibrating with unspent anger, his face a storm of emotions that threatened to burst forth any second, clearly struggling with the idea of not confronting Duke Belfort personally. "I’ll break him like a twig," he grumbled under his breath.

“No breaking my husband, brother Kaelen!" Adelaide scolded. "I’ll need him in one piece for the wedding!"

Thorne simply held his face in his hands, sighing deeply. “Oh dear,” he muttered under his breath. “This won’t be easy for the poor duke…”

Adelaide giggled into her palms at the memory of her brothers’ reactions. Warmth radiated through her, despite the chill in the air as the carriage climbed further north toward Aurenfell. The contrast between her excitement and the biting cold made her lazily kick her feet, her emerald eyes scanning the snow-laden forests and the distant, towering mountains. The vastness of it all stirred something in her, and her fingers tingled with energy.

It was a curious thing, that tingle in her left hand. She glanced toward the distant Aurenfell border, sensing a strong Aedran presence. The energy was unmistakable. She’d make it a point to visit the borderwall soon—there might be answers there. For now, however, her attention returned to the journey ahead.

As they approached Duke Belfort’s keep, her eyes widened. The keep was a masterpiece of northern architecture—dark stone walls, sharp spires rising into the crisp blue sky, and intricate carvings etched into the walls that seemed to ripple like frost over glass. “Oh wow,” she breathed, her gaze roaming over every detail. The north had a beauty all its own.

The carriage came to a stop, and a ducal knight opened the door for her. Adelaide grinned brightly at him, stepping down with ease. “Thank you!” she said cheerily, her voice light and full of warmth. She noticed his ears turn a faint shade of pink, though his expression remained stoic. It made her want to giggle, but she held it back, not wanting him to feel self-conscious.

The grand hall of the keep welcomed her next, with its towering ceilings, walls draped in banners of deep blues and silvers, and the clink of armour from the knights who stood at attention. What caught her eye immediately, however, were the servants—nearly all of them men. Adelaide’s three maids looked around as well, clearly as surprised as she was to see so few women in the serving ranks.

"Hello, I’m Adelaide Veridis," she introduced herself with a graceful curtsy, her golden-blonde curls bouncing slightly as she rose. She smiled kindly, her emerald eyes sparkling with curiosity.

The male servants who greeted her seemed taken aback, but one stepped forward, presenting a small wooden chest with a bow. “Your Ladyship, the staff has prepared this welcoming gift for your new residence.”

Adelaide opened the box, her nose instantly filled with scents unlike any she’d encountered before. It was a blend of crisp pine, delicate wildflowers, and something earthy, like the frozen soil beneath fresh snow. “Oh, wow!” She grinned widely. “These perfumes—they’re made with northern flowers, aren’t they?”

The servant nodded, clearly pleased by her enthusiasm. “Yes, milady.”

Her beaming smile only widened. “Thank you! I’ll treasure it.” She held the box close, savouring the scents even with the lid now shut. Her heightened senses allowed her to keep enjoying it, and she felt no need to hand it off to Elaine, one of her maids, who stood by her side, waiting.

Another servant stepped forward, his posture stiff but his expression betrayed nothing. “My name is Joachim, Your Ladyship. I am Duke Belfort’s chamberlain. I will accompany you to your private quarters.”

Adelaide regarded him for a moment, sensing a faint ripple of hostility beneath his formal demeanour. It was subtle, but she caught it—enough to pique her interest. Still, she smiled brightly. “The pleasure is mine, Joachim. Please, lead the way.”

Joachim bowed again and turned to lead her through the labyrinthine hallways of the keep, three other servants trailing behind. Adelaide admired the intricate stonework and tapestries as they walked. Footsteps echoed from an adjoining hall, causing her to pause. A man appeared, stopping abruptly when he saw her. His surprise was plain, but Adelaide’s mischievous grin spread across her face, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Noticing her pause, Joachim turned. “Your Ladyship,” he said with a formal tone, “allow me to introduce Mr. Gerrick Ichor, Duke Belfort’s aide.”

Gerrick stepped forward, his tall frame imposing but not unfriendly. His black hair was cut short, and his sharp features were softened by the easy grin that spread across his face as he met Adelaide’s gaze. “Just call me Gerrick, my lady,” he said with a casual air, his amber eyes twinkling with amusement.

Adelaide took his outstretched hand without hesitation, giving it a firm shake. “Very well, Gerrick. A pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” he replied, his voice warm as he matched her energy. “I handle all matters not related to the duke’s military affairs, so if you need anything… I’m your man.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Adelaide smiled, but her gaze sharpened slightly, appraising him in the same way she’d done with Joachim. Gerrick didn’t flinch under her scrutiny—if anything, he seemed to enjoy the challenge, his grin widening. He had the air of someone who could navigate a battlefield with words just as well as any soldier could with a sword.

Crafty. She likes this one.