The Spring Summoner and the Winter Duke

Pieces of Her Prison

Adelaide lay still in bed, her body heavy and sore, when a strange sensation began to pulse through her. It was subtle at first, a faint hum beneath her skin, like the distant echo of something she couldn’t quite place. Her connection to her elemental magic—usually a steady, comforting presence within her—felt stifled, almost muted, as if she were out of sync with herself. Frowning, she closed her eyes and channelled her energy inward, searching for the source of the dissonance.

As her focus sharpened, she felt it: subtle, internal wounds. They weren’t like the gashes or bruises she was used to after battle. No, these were deep, almost invisible, yet their impact radiated throughout her body like a dull, aching throb. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

What happened to me?

She recalled the battle—the Aedra, their twisted forms and foul energy—but her memories remained hazy. Could it be that she had come into direct contact with one of them?

A sharp pang of unease settled in her gut. Something was wrong—more than just the remnants of physical pain.

She turned her head to the side, where Cecily was tidying a tray. “Cecily,” Adelaide murmured, her voice steady despite the disquiet stirring within her, “summon the doctor, please.”

Cecily’s eyes widened, but she quickly nodded and rushed from the room.

Moments later, the doctor arrived—a short, thin man with thinning hair and a nervous disposition. He examined Adelaide with precise hands, his brow furrowing as he pressed gently against her ribs and abdomen. When he finished, he straightened, his face lined with concern.

“It’s possible you’ve sustained internal injuries, my lady,” he said, his voice soft but clear. He pulled out a small vial from his satchel. “I’ll prescribe this medicine to help with your recovery, and I recommend you stretch. You’ve been unconscious for three days, and prolonged rest without movement can cause stiffness and sores.”

Adelaide nodded, offering him a tired smile. “Thank you, Doctor.”

The man’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, his eyes darting away from her as he fumbled to gather his things. “I—ah—yes, my lady. I’ll take my leave.” He excused himself quickly, nearly tripping over his own feet as he exited the room.

Adelaide chuckled softly once he was gone, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. She had a natural warmth that seemed to draw people in—something that always made her a comforting presence to those around her. But for now, that warmth felt distant, flickering like a candle in a draft.

“Elaine,” she called gently. “Would you help me stretch?”

Elaine’s face softened as she nodded. “Of course, my lady.”

Together with her maids, Adelaide spent the next few minutes stretching her stiff limbs. Maris fetched a light breakfast, and after they ate, they continued with some simple stretches in her room. The act of moving eased some of the tension in Adelaide’s muscles, but that dull ache, the one within her, still lingered. After a few stretches, Adelaide stood and walked the length of the room several times, testing her legs. Each step felt like it carried her a little further from the fog of unconsciousness, grounding her.

Finally, she sank into a loveseat by the window, folding her legs beneath her and bringing her fists together in front of her chest. Her maids resumed tidying the room, but they kept glancing at her, curious, as if sensing the shift in the air.

Adelaide inhaled deeply, centring herself, and let her energy flow outward. A light began to emit from her forehead, soft at first, like the glow of dawn peeking through the trees. The room filled with a gentle wind, stirring the curtains and lifting strands of her hair. Her maids stilled, eyes widening as awe-filled their faces.

She was calling on the spirits.

Adelaide’s voice was barely a whisper as she invoked their names. “Solara, goddess of light… Aquon, god of water…” Her words were carried on the breeze, light and sure.

As the spirits answered, a soft glow spread across her back. The magic surged through the runes etched into her skin, ancient markings that pulsed with life. Her entire back was adorned with intricate tattoos—vines, flowers, and swirling tendrils that wove together in a beautiful, seamless pattern. Now, those tattoos glowed with a radiant light, filling with the energy of the gods. Magic flowed through her veins, warm and soothing like water rushing to douse a fire. It moved through her body, knitting together invisible wounds.

Her maids stared in awe as the light from Adelaide’s tattoos brightened, illuminating the room with a soft, ethereal glow. The air hummed with power, the kind that only came from a direct connection to the gods themselves.

Minutes passed, and slowly, the glow faded. The wind stilled. Adelaide let out a soft sigh as the magic settled within her, leaving her feeling renewed. The dull ache had faded to a distant memory.

Opening her eyes, she smiled gently at her maids, who stood rooted to their spots, gazing at her with reverence.

“There now,” she said softly. “Much better.”

Adelaide gazed out the window, her heart sinking as she took in the garden below. The once-vibrant flowers, nurtured by her elemental magic, now drooped with sickly hues, the petals losing their lustre as if drained of life. The sunlight that filtered through the trees felt dull, almost grey, casting a pall over the once-lively landscape. Even the knights patrolling the grounds appeared on edge, their faces taut with tension as they whispered among themselves, their voices too low for her to hear.

Narrowing her eyes, a growing sense of unease settled in her gut. She had always prided herself on her connection to the world around her, but now it felt as though something was deeply amiss. This wasn’t merely the result of her illness—this felt more sinister. She needed to recover, yes, but she also needed answers.

Pretending to still be weak, she spent hours at the window, feigning disinterest in the world outside while closely observing the strange behaviour of those below. The knights’ movements were jerky and cautious, and the few maids flitting about the grounds cast furtive glances. Even more troubling, some of the guards’ faces seemed unfamiliar to her. Adelaide knew the royal guard by heart, these men were not from the capital.

Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. She couldn't remain trapped in this gilded cage.

As dawn broke the next morning, her maids helped her into a fine gown—saturated and close-fitting, far more ostentatious than her usual pastel, poofy dresses. She felt like a stranger in her own skin, but there was no time to dwell on that. After the final checks were made, they opened the door, and Elaine stepped out without a hitch. But as Adelaide followed, the knights guarding her room moved to block her path.

“My lady, you cannot leave,” one of them declared, his tone unwavering.

“Why is this so?” she asked calmly, though indignation flared in her chest, ready to erupt.

“The emperor has ordered you to remain here until you are fully recovered,” the knight stated firmly, his expression unyielding.

Adelaide’s thoughts raced. Emperor Ardentis has never issued such a decree. They must take her for a fool, and the realization that she was being held here against her will ignited a flame of rebellion within her.

“Truly?” she feigned surprise, her voice smooth and even. “Very well,” she continued, affecting a submission that made her insides churn. “I shall return to my bed.”

As the knights stepped back, momentarily easing their guard, Adelaide's heart raced with the thrill of rebellion. She turned back to her maids, her mind already racing ahead.

“I will still visit the Emperor, of course. Help me out of this dress and into that one,” she instructed, pointing toward a simpler, more comfortable outfit hanging on a nearby chair, “and hand me a cloak.” Her maids worked quickly, the tension in the air palpable as Adelaide’s enhanced hearing picked up footsteps outside—at least four people. “Quickly, feign normalcy.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and her maids scrambled to hide her true intentions. Without hesitation, Adelaide slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as the others pretended to busy themselves with tidying.

Elaine opened the door, revealing a knight who stood tall in his armour, his face obscured by his helmet. “Where is the Spring Summoner?” he demanded, his voice gruff and demanding. Two others flanked him, their armour dark and unmarked—another red flag. The knights without helmets glanced around the room, but the one who led the charge seemed to have his gaze squarely on Adelaide, who lay perfectly still, pretending to nap.

“She is resting,” Elaine said, her tone composed but strained. "As you can see, there’s no need to disturb her further."

The knight said nothing, watching Adelaide for a moment longer as if gauging whether she was truly asleep. Her breathing remained slow and even, her eyelids fluttering ever so slightly, giving the illusion of a peaceful nap.

Satisfied, he grunted and turned on his heel, motioning to his companions to follow him out. The door clicked shut, and their footsteps faded down the hall.

When the sound of footsteps faded, Adelaide slowly opened her eyes, her senses alert despite the feigned exhaustion. Her maids moved quietly, exchanging worried glances as they tidied the room, their earlier panic replaced by a practised calm.

Adelaide shifted her weight, propping herself up on her elbows. "He’s gone?"

Elaine, standing nearest to the door, nodded, her brows knitted with concern. "Yes, my lady. But he’ll return soon, I suspect."

"Did you see his face?" Adelaide asked, keeping her voice low.

Elaine shook her head. "No. He kept his helmet on the entire time, but I’d never seen him before. He’s not from the palace guard, of that I’m sure."

“And now, more than ever, I’m certain. Someone is trying to keep me here against my will.” Adelaide hummed, “Now let’s be quick.” She changed into the second dress and pulled the hood over her long, wavy golden-blonde hair. “I will return quickly," her glittering green eyes landed on each maid for a moment.

The maids exchanged worried glances. Cecily pleads softly, “Please return to us safely, my lady.”

Adelaide's grin was swift and warm, the kind of smile that could dispel fear even in the gravest of moments. Without another word, she stepped out the window, Adelaide’s magic stirred within her, responding to her unspoken call. A light wind swirled around her body, its touch gentle but potent. The breeze carried with it a faint shimmer, effectively erasing her presence from anyone who might be watching. A branch moved under her feet, she leapt from branch to branch each movement calculated as she made her way to the roof of the building.

Once she reached the top, Adelaide crouched low, keeping herself hidden as her eyes scanned the surroundings. The building resembled an abbey or temple of sorts. The pointed spires rose toward the sky, casting long shadows that melded with the darkness of the early morning.

However, it was the view beyond that captured her full attention.

In the distance, bathed in the soft light of dawn, stood the Summit of Seasons, its grand marble structure gleaming even in the dim light. Relief washed over her—she was still in the capital. That fact alone gave her an advantage. Whatever forces had confined her had not yet removed her from the Emperor’s domain.

Reaching the edge of the roof, she slipped down into a narrow alleyway, landing silently on her feet. She ducked into the shadows, her senses alert, her mind already mapping out the best route. The streets between her and the Summit of Seasons were teeming with people, guards, and hidden threats.

Adelaide moved swiftly but carefully, her presence cloaked by the winds. She had to reach the Emperor. If he was unaware of the coup—or whatever this was—he would need to know. If he was aware…

Adelaide’s eyes hardened. Then I’ll be prepared.