The Spring Summoner and the Winter Duke

Between Duty and Discovery

The moon hung high in the night sky as Adelaide and her small entourage returned to the manor, where its walls and stately features seemed to glow beneath the silver light. Lights from Icesar’s town centre gleamed below, and she giggled, already making plans to visit the night market in secret. How charming it would be to slip into the town's vibrant night and see this side of the Frost Duchy.

They hadn’t even entered the manor before the old chamberlain, Joachim, appeared in the doorway to greet her, bowing slightly. "My lady," he said in his stately way, "the Duke has requested your presence. He wishes to speak with you in his study."

“Oh?” Her curiosity piqued, Adelaide offered a gracious smile and thanked him before heading inside. She hadn’t seen much of the Duke since her arrival—he seemed to prefer distance, and she respected that. But his request intrigued her; perhaps this was an opportunity to learn more about the man she’d promised to wed.

The Duke rose from his seat when she entered his study, inclining his head politely. His expression remained unreadable, though the barest hint of curiosity flickered across his eyes. “Lady Adelaide,” he greeted, “I trust you enjoyed your outing in the town?”

“I did indeed,” she replied, unable to contain the warmth in her smile.

The Duke inclined his head. “I trust the maidservants have been of assistance, as this is all new to you.”

“They’ve been wonderful,” she replied sincerely. “You chose well—I couldn’t ask for better assistance.”

He nodded, a fleeting hint of relief breaking through his usual impassive demeanour. “I’m glad to hear it.”

An unusual pause lingered between them. Feeling bold, she tilted her head, her curiosity sparkling. “Did you want to talk with me about something?”

“...Yes,” he said, his posture straightening as his tone took on a formal edge. "I was told you refused the escort. Am I to take it you've chosen Dame Lorrian as your personal guard?"

Adelaide thought for a moment, her mind briefly drifting to the female knight who had been such a refreshing presence. With a cheerful nod, she agreed, "Yes, I have. She's been a delight."

“Understood. It is as you will.”

“Is that all?” she prompted, sensing he had something else on his mind.

The Duke seemed briefly caught off guard by her straightforwardness, but he inclined his head slightly, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. He remembered that Adelaide wasn’t bound by northern etiquette—or any courtly mannerisms for that matter. Though her straightforwardness was jarring, he realized it made things much easier for him.

“My mother, the Dowager Duchess, will be arriving in three days’ time. I… imagine she’ll wish to meet with you.” He hesitated, a rare break in his composure. “I’ve already arranged for your seamstress orders to be prioritized, and any necessary expenses will be taken care of.”

“Ah.” Adelaide blinked, her heart racing. The in-laws. Somehow, she’d forgotten this part of the arrangement. Trying to suppress her inner panic, she gave a thoughtful nod. “Should I invite my family as well? The other Great Elementalists, I mean. They are… well, as close to family as I have.”

The Duke hesitated, clearly uncertain. "You… could." His voice trailed off slightly as he considered it. He wasn’t sure how his mother would react to such an unconventional idea, but he also couldn’t deny that Adelaide was anything but conventional herself. Still, he didn’t admit his doubts, instead offering a noncommittal response. "If you think it best."

She nodded, a soft chuckle escaping her, already mentally drafting a letter to each of her “siblings.”

The Duke’s brow lifted, but he didn’t question her chuckle; in fact, he seemed vaguely amused by her unpredictability. “Then I’ll make sure the arrangements account for the possibility of their arrival.”

"Thank you very much."

The Duke blinked, a little perplexed by Adelaide’s sudden departure. She had asked if there were any other matters, and when he’d told her there were none, she had giggled and hurried out. Then, a soft fragrance caught his attention—something both familiar and nostalgic. He glanced over his shoulder at the vase on his table, where a bloom of rare winter flowers sat, its petals unfurling once again in full, vibrant bloom, their scent wrapping around him. He realized then that the same floral hint had followed Adelaide in; she was a mystery wrapped in scents and strange warmth, as though spring had entered the North itself.

“Odd,” he murmured, shaking his head and letting a faint, bemused smile slip. Then, with a glance at the now-blooming flowers, he turned back to his work.

Meanwhile, back in her quarters, Adelaide was all business—or at least, her version of it. “Let’s prepare a light meal, a bath, and some stationery,” she chirped.

The maids paired off quickly, each well-versed in their tasks. As Elaine carefully arranged the ink and parchment on her desk, Adelaide’s constant giggles filled the room. Cecily, Maris, and Elaine only smiled—accustomed to her spirited nature—while Clara and Amelie exchanged worried glances, unsure what to make of their future duchess’s mischievous disposition.

When her letters were finally written, Adelaide crossed the room and threw open her window, leaning halfway out with a broad smile.

“My lady,” Clara called nervously, her hand halfway extended, “we’re very high up. That’s dangerous.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine!” Adelaide sang back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She lifted her arm and whispered softly, summoning a gentle green light from which a small lark emerged—a delicate creature with feathers that seemed almost too vibrant for the frosted North. “Deliver these to my siblings quickly, alright?”

The lark stretched its wings, and with a flutter, the letters vanished into thin air. It sang a short, clear note, the kind of song rarely heard in the north, before soaring off into the twilight.

Adelaide watched it disappear into the night, satisfied, before turning back inside just as her meal was brought in. It didn’t take long for her to finish, given the lightness of her request.

“Is the bath ready?” she asked, already looking forward to relaxing in the warm water.

The bath was indeed ready, steam curling off the surface of the water, perfumed with a blend of calming herbs. Adelaide glanced back at her maids, an amused gleam in her eye. “Perhaps you two could stay,” she suggested to Clara and Amelie, “and watch how it’s done. Only if you wish, of course.”

The maids exchanged glances, then nodded in agreement, and Clara stepped forward, her hands reaching for the robe that draped Adelaide’s shoulders. “May I take the robe off, Your Ladyship?” she asked in a voice as shy as her timid gaze.

Adelaide let out a playful laugh. “Come now, darling, we’re both women. There’s no need to be shy.”

As the robe slipped off, Clara’s cheeks flamed, her gaze drifting to the intricate, faintly glowing markings on Adelaide’s back—the mark of an Elementalist. They stretched along her spine and traced the underside of her arms like delicate vines pulsing faintly with energy. Quickly, Clara averted her gaze, focusing instead on the task of preparing the towels.

Maris brought over a glass of wine, and Adelaide eased into the warm bath, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she settled back. “Could you open the curtain, Clara?” she asked, her eyes bright with anticipation. Clara obeyed, pulling the curtain to reveal a glittering night view over the lively town of Icesar, lanterns dotting the streets like stars.

Adelaide took a sip of her wine, the warmth of it matching the bath’s gentle heat, and began to chat idly with her maids. “It’s strange to think I’ll be twenty-five this spring,” she murmured, her gaze distant as she watched the twinkling lights. “A woman of my age and status, and unmarried—though I suppose it’s less of a scandal for a Summoner,” she added with a chuckle. “But what of the other ladies? Those without a title or elemental magic? To abide by these rules of marriage and society, I wonder how they feel about it…”

The maids nodded, murmuring in agreement, and Adelaide drifted further into thought, finishing her wine and letting her mind wander to the looming duties and expectations her new position entailed.

Once the bath was over, her maids set to work drying her hair and dressing her in a soft nightgown, brushing her curls until they gleamed. Finally, they wished her a good night and quietly left the room.

Adelaide lay in bed, her gaze fixed on the unfamiliar ceiling, tracing patterns in the shadows cast by the flickering candlelight. A slow, thoughtful smile crept onto her face. She had much to learn here and even more to do.

“Well, then…” she murmured to herself, her smile widening with the thrill of it all. “How shall I begin to lay my trap for the rats in the capital?”