The Spring Summoner and the Winter Duke

Stepping into the Capital

As she strode forward, the townspeople turned their heads, murmuring amongst themselves. She could feel their eyes on her, not hostile, but curious. It was clear that a visitor like her—so different from the usual folk of the north—was a rarity here. Adelaide didn’t mind. In fact, she welcomed it. She loved the attention, the energy of the crowd, the way the market hummed with life.

And with Dame Lorrain trailing a respectful distance behind, her watchful eyes on the crowd. As Adelaide and her small entourage strolled through the bustling streets of Icescar, her enhanced hearing picked up the whispers of the town's residents long before they were within speaking distance. Excitable murmurs floated on the crisp northern air.

“Oh, what a lovely lady,” one of the commoners remarked in a cheerful tone, her voice cutting through the noise of the market.

Adelaide’s lips curled into a warm smile as her steps lightened. She always enjoyed visiting towns, soaking up the life and energy of the markets, and seeing how people lived beyond the stone walls of castles and estates. She had a way of blending in—until, of course, people noticed her unique presence, the Spring Summoner walking amongst them like something out of a tale.

A group of children broke away from a nearby game, their laughter ringing out as they ran toward her. Their little feet kicked up snowflakes, their faces flushed with excitement, but before they could reach her, Dame Lorrain stepped forward, her arm subtly outstretched in a gesture of protection. Amelie, too, was quick to move, her northern sense of propriety making her instinctively cautious.

Adelaide noticed the shift in their posture. “Let the children closer,” she said with a gentle command, her voice leaving no room for argument.

The knight and maid exchanged a glance, hesitation evident in the way their bodies tensed. They clearly weren’t thrilled about letting the children get too close to their lady, but they respected Adelaide’s wishes. Slowly, they stepped aside, creating space between them and the eager children.

Adelaide crouched, her green eyes sparkling with warmth as she motioned for the little ones to come nearer. “Hello!” she beamed at them, her tone bright and inviting.

The children, once hesitant under the watchful gaze of the knight, now swarmed closer, their faces lit up with excitement and Adelaide couldn’t help but feel her heart swell at their innocence. The first to reach her was a boy, about the height of a nine-year-old, his wide, bright eyes gleaming with wonder as he took in the sight of her. Without thinking, he reached out a small hand toward her, his fingers brushing lightly over the golden strands of her hair.

“Your hair is so shiny,” he said, his smile widening with pure joy, as though he had just discovered a hidden treasure.

Before Adelaide could respond, Amelie rushed forward, grabbing the boy gently by his sleeve, her expression a mix of firm politeness and apology. “Now, now, little one. It’s not proper to touch a lady’s hair.”

Adelaide giggled softly, waving away the maid’s concern. “It’s alright, Amelie,” she said with a wink, her voice light. “I’m sure they’re just curious.” She turned her gaze back to the boy, her smile as warm as spring sunlight. “But my maid is right. Next time you want to touch someone’s hair, be sure to ask first, okay?”

The boy nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly as he pulled his hand back. “Yes, Your Ladyship,” he replied, his voice small and squeaky, so much so that he sounded much younger than he appeared.

Another child, a little girl with wide brown eyes, piped up, her voice filled with admiration. “Your Ladyship’s hair is so beautiful!”

“And so shiny too!” echoed another child, a girl with two braids that swung as she nodded fervently.

Adelaide blushed at the attention, not used to such adoration from children. She felt her cheeks grow warm, though the winter chill kept them cool enough to hide the redness. Before she could say anything more, a small girl with a mess of curls pushed her way to the front of the group, her eyes wide with awe as she gazed up at Adelaide.

“Are you a fairy?” the girl asked, her tiny voice trembling with excitement. “You look like a fairy.”

The other children quickly joined in, their little voices rising in an excited chorus, “A fairy! A fairy!”

Adelaide laughed, the sound melodic as it blended with the children’s giggles. Suddenly, flowers woven into her golden hair, a quiet touch of magic that usually rested dormant, began to bloom. Pale pink and white blossoms unfurled themselves delicately, their petals opening in response to her joy and the children’s excitement.

A collective gasp escaped from the crowd of little ones. “She really is a fairy!” one of them exclaimed, jumping up and down as though witnessing magic for the very first time.

Adelaide’s blush deepened as she reached up, fingers brushing against the newly bloomed flowers. She had always struggled to control this little trick of hers. Her magic seemed to have a mind of its own, often responding to her emotions more than her will. But at this moment, as she looked down at the enchanted faces of the children, she didn’t mind at all.

“Perhaps I am,” she said with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling. “But that’ll be our little secret, alright?”

The children nodded eagerly, their eyes wide with wonder as they promised to keep her ‘fairy magic’ a secret, though their glee made it obvious they’d be telling every friend and sibling they could find.

Amelie, watching the scene with a mixture of affection and bemusement, shook her head softly. “You’re going to have them believing you’re a true fairy before long,” she whispered.

Adelaide stood, brushing off the snow from her skirts, still smiling. “I don’t mind,” she said lightly. “Let them believe in a bit of magic.”

Dame Lorrain, who had remained silent through it all, took a subtle step forward, her posture relaxed but alert, as always. “Shall we continue, my lady?” she asked, her voice a low rumble, though there was a faint hint of amusement in her eyes as she observed the children’s adoration.

Adelaide nodded, turning back to the bustling market as the children reluctantly ran off, still glancing back over their shoulders as if expecting her to sprout wings and fly. As Adelaide walked through the bustling marketplace of Icescar, her eyes were wide with childlike wonder as she took in the rustic beauty of the winter duchy’s wares. Amelie, ever the diligent northern maid, pointed out the finer goods, especially the well-tailored dresses and the high-quality materials that made up the region’s garments. Thick furs, heavy wool, and woven fabrics all designed to withstand the unforgiving cold of the north caught her attention.

“These are quite fine, my lady,” Amelie remarked, her gloved fingers brushing over a rich woollen cloak lined with wolf fur. “Aurenfell prides itself on its craftsmanship. This material will last you many winters.”

Elaine, the imperial maid Adelaide had brought from the capital, stood beside them, taking mental notes on the details of the northern attire. She wasn’t accustomed to these more rustic styles, her training steeped in the delicate silks and airy gowns of the southern empire. Her eyes moved over each piece of clothing carefully, trying to learn what she could, though she was noticeably out of her element.

Adelaide, on the other hand, was completely smitten. “I absolutely adore these!” she exclaimed, her excitement palpable as her fingers danced over a beautifully embroidered tunic. The cut was snug around her waist, hugging her figure in ways the flowing southern gowns never did. The thick material was far heavier than what she was used to, yet she found herself marvelling at the craftsmanship.

How curious indeed, she thought, feeling the weight of the fabric in her hands. “I can’t wait to wear them,” Adelaide said with a grin, twirling around as if imagining herself already wrapped in these northern fashions.

Their next stop, naturally, was a flower shop. Despite the harsh winters of Aurenfell, the north had its own selection of hardy flora. As Adelaide walked through the small but charming shop, her eyes softened as she admired the small collection of blossoms on display. Though the selection was sparse compared to the lush spring blooms she was used to in the capital, she made a point to memorize each flower. There were ice lilies, delicate white flowers with frost-kissed edges, snow blossoms, which had deep blue petals that shimmered as if dusted with stardust, and winter’s breath, a flower with long, silvery tendrils that seemed to drink in the cold air itself.

Adelaide smiled as she focused her magic, and the spring flowers that adorned her hair slowly withered, replaced by tiny buds of northern blooms. The buds of ice lilies and snow blossoms wove themselves into her golden locks, drawing soft gasps from the nearby shopkeeper who hadn’t seen such a thing before. “How do they do that?” the shopkeeper asked in awe.

“Magic,” Adelaide said with a playful wink, before adding, “Though it’s just a little trick.” She couldn’t help the pride swelling in her chest as she admired the winter flowers now blooming in her hair.

As they moved from stall to stall, Adelaide spent quite a lot of money—she had no intention of holding back her excitement. Her joy was infectious, and her generosity even more so. She left tips everywhere she went, thanking vendors with a cheerful smile and paying with silver and gold coins. The vendors, wide-eyed at the sight of so much wealth, offered their gratitude in return.

Elaine, walking beside her, carried the smaller currencies—silvens for silver and glints for gold were the most common forms Adelaide had, while smaller coins like bronzels and coppers were used for everyday purchases. Elaine had been taught to manage the coins and knew how to navigate the markets well, keeping a careful eye on the sums while Adelaide merrily indulged in the delights of the town.

As they began making their way back toward the carriage, laden with their purchases, a strange chill crept over the air. At first, Adelaide thought little of it—it was winter, after all, and the cold was ever-present in Aurenfell. But as they walked further, she felt a sharper bite in the air. Her breath became visible, the frost clinging to her words as they left her lips.

The maids glanced at her briefly, their faces calm and untouched by the sudden drop in temperature. Amelie even offered her a reassuring smile before continuing her pace.

But Adelaide frowned. Her steps slowed as the coldness pressed in around her like icy fingers trailing over her skin. It was subtle at first, but then the chill deepened, wrapping itself around her like a suffocating embrace. The air itself grew heavy, like walking through an invisible wall of frost. Her fingers twitched as she tried to flex them, the cold gnawing at the edges of her nerves.

“Amelie,” she called out, her voice shaky, “are you not cold?”

The northern maid turned back with a curious look. “Cold, my lady?” she asked, her head tilted. “It’s no colder than usual.”

But Adelaide could barely hear her over the sound of the frost crackling in her ears. The world around her seemed to dim as if the frost had swallowed everything whole, and she could feel it tightening its grip on her, as though the winter itself had decided to freeze her where she stood.

Something was wrong.