The Spring Summoner and the Winter Duke

The Wall and the Widow

The morning sun streamed in through the frosted glass, casting a cold, crystalline light across the duke’s study. Aric was just finishing his correspondence when there was a sharp knock on the door. His chamberlain and aide exchanged confused glances, as few dared to disturb him this early in the day. But Aric merely sighed, already suspecting the culprit. “Let her in.”

The guard opened the door, and Adelaide entered, a bright smile on her face. The others looked on, incredulous, clearly wondering how the duke had known it would be her.

“Well then,” Aric began, raising an eyebrow. “What brings you here at this hour?”

Adelaide clasped her hands in front of her. “I was hoping to visit the border wall.”

At this, the chamberlain, Joachim, practically jolted. “The border wall? But… but that’s no place for a lady, my lady!” He looked at her, aghast, as though she’d just announced plans to scale the wall herself.

Adelaide’s gaze narrowed. This chamberlain was always looking at her with that same patronizing expression, as though she were some delicate flower in need of protection. She squared her shoulders. “I’ll have you know I am a battle mage. I am as much of a knight as any man here.”

The chamberlain merely sniffed, still unconvinced, but Garrick, the duke’s aide, gave a small chuckle, nodding in agreement. “It’s actually quite fortuitous,” he said, grinning. “It’s far better for a fighter to be at the duke’s side than some wilting lady who’d freeze at the first snowfall.”

Adelaide let out a bark of laughter, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Indeed! As if the duke himself weren’t already cold enough.”

At that, Garrick doubled over, a hand clamping over his mouth to stifle his laughter, his shoulders shaking. The chamberlain, on the other hand, looked horrified by such a blatant lack of propriety, while Aric merely sighed, looking every bit the image of a man utterly resigned to his fate.

“Adelaide,” he asked, his voice calm but weary, “what exactly is it you hope to accomplish at the wall?”

She took a deep breath. “It’s my duty as a Great Elemental Summoner to check for aedra contamination. The northern lands are as vulnerable to rifts as the east—better to be certain than let anything slip by.”

Aric noted the chamberlain’s quick intake of breath and the way his eyes flickered, though he couldn’t quite discern what the reaction meant. Still, he gave a resigned nod. “Very well, if you’re so determined.”

Adelaide beamed, clapping her hands in triumph, but then she paused, her face falling as if remembering something. She suddenly trotted up to his desk, leaning closer to him than he’d expected, catching the duke off guard.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” she admitted, looking slightly sheepish. “I meant to ask if you’d have breakfast with me. I was supposed to invite you to breakfast first, then mention the wall… but I mixed up the order.”

The Duke blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. She could be as unpredictable as a springstorm, he thought, mildly exasperated. Still, there was something endearing in her earnestness, even if it constantly left him one step behind.

“Well then,” he replied, his lips twitching slightly with the barest hint of a smile. “Shall we start with breakfast, then?”

"Thank you for being so gracious," Adelaide practically bounced out of the room, her carefree steps echoing down the hall.

Garrick leaned against the duke’s desk, amused by the scene that had just unfolded. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already, my lord,” he teased lightly. “Is this the magic of betrothal?”

Aric ignored Garrick’s ribbing. "If I’m to be married," he said, more to himself than anyone else, "compromises will have to be made. Sharing a meal with my wife-to-be is hardly a sacrifice."

The truth was, he couldn’t quite put his finger on why he had been so accommodating. It wasn’t in his nature to yield so easily, especially not to a woman. A flicker of memory surfaced: his last visit to the capital when a court woman had placed her hand on his arm, her touch uninvited. He’d felt an instinctive recoil, his skin crawling. But only moments ago, Adelaide had stood mere inches away from him, her presence so close he could feel the warmth radiating from her. Yet all he’d felt was… surprise.

Joachim, the ever-watchful chamberlain, cleared his throat. “My lord, are you certain that girl is truly who she claims to be?”

Aric’s expression didn’t waver. “If she weren’t, the emperor would have had her head by now. He doesn’t allow pretence or error when it comes to elementalists.”

Garrick chuckled, his usual sly smile vanishing for a moment. “Even so, it’s a bit odd, don’t you think? For the Emperor to arrange a marriage between his cousin and a Great Elementalist? Even his control over them isn’t absolute.” He watched the duke carefully, noting the tension gathering at Aric’s temples as he massaged them.

"She wanted this," Aric admitted, his voice a little more strained than usual. “She chose this path herself. She offered to come here.”

Joachim’s moustache twitched in surprise, and even Garrick, usually composed in the face of intrigue, blinked in disbelief. “She wanted this?” he echoed. "But what could a Spring Summoner possibly gain from a life in a land with eternal winter?"

Aric's fingers drummed on his desk. He’d asked himself that very question countless times since the engagement had been decided. Suspicion lingered in the back of his mind, a constant whisper. What could Adelaide want? The harsh, unforgiving cold of the north was the last place any Elementalist aligned with life, growth, and renewal should seek.

And yet, here she was.

"There's more to her than meets the eye," Aric admitted, his voice low. "But what it is… I haven't figured out yet."

Garrick smiled thoughtfully. “Then perhaps, my lord, it’s time we keep a closer watch on our future duchess.”

Aric didn’t respond immediately, his mind still turning over the mystery that was Adelaide. "Perhaps," Aric finally said.

Adelaide, blissfully unaware of the Duke and his men’s suspicions, remained in the dining hall with Clara, who was giving her a little history lesson about Aurenfell and its legendary knights.

"Over the centuries," Clara recounted with pride, “the knights of Aurenfell have become some of the most feared warriors in the empire. Families like the Von Carthus, Ulricson, and Alderran have produced knight-commanders, defenders of the duchy against northern invaders and, more recently… against the Aedrean demons.”

Adelaide nodded in fascination, but her attention was interrupted by a piercing scream. Clara’s face had gone pale, her finger pointing, trembling, toward a large, glistening spider weaving a web in the corner. The sudden noise startled Adelaide, but she quickly stifled a giggle.

A passing servant, hearing the commotion, hurried over and gave an apologetic bow. “My lady, I’ll remove it at once.”

But Adelaide waved him off, stepping forward with an eager gleam in her eye. “Hold on—no need to kill the poor creature.” With a calm confidence, she extended her hand into the web, where the spider, a glossy creature with a distinct red marking on its back, scuttled onto her fingertips. Both Clara and the servant paled further, nearly holding their breath.

“M-my lady!” Clara stammered, eyes widening. “That—that spider is venomous!”

Adelaide raised an eyebrow, amused by their reactions. “Oh, come now. It won’t harm me.” She allowed the spider to crawl onto her shoulder, watching it with mild interest as it found a spot near her collarbone and nestled in. “I think I’ll keep it as a pet,” she declared with a mischievous grin. “We’ll name it… oh, I don’t know, maybe something dignified. Silas, perhaps.”

Clara looked like she might faint, clutching the edge of a nearby chair. “A pet… spider… in your room?” Her voice barely came out as a whisper.

“Of course,” Adelaide replied cheerfully. “I find him rather charming.” She glanced at the servant and added, “If you’ll bring a small terrarium to my quarters, that would be lovely.”

The servant bowed, looking bewildered as he backed away, clearly at a loss. Clara looked faint, as though the idea of a venomous pet defied every ounce of her training and sanity. Clutching her hands, the maid finally muttered, “My lady, you’re certainly… different from what we expected.”

With a small laugh, Adelaide shrugged, unbothered. “I suppose I am. But don’t worry, Silas and I will get along splendidly.”

That was the least of Clara's concerns.

As they reached Adelaide’s chambers, the sight of the spider drew a mix of gasps and wide-eyed stares from her maids. But when Elaine spotted the creature, she folded her arms, her face stern as she addressed her mistress.

“My lady,” Elaine began, her tone that of an exasperated mother. “Are you still indulging in this ridiculous habit of picking up dangerous creatures? It’s one thing for you to not be afraid, but what about the rest of us? One bite, and we could be in serious trouble.”

Adelaide pouted, visibly chastened by Elaine’s scolding. “But he won’t hurt anyone, I promise. Besides, he was minding her own business until someone tried to move him.”

Elaine sighed, shaking her head as though she had endured years of these antics—which, indeed, she had. As Adelaide’s former nanny, she’d been her protector and confidante since the young girl had first joined the Summit of Seasons at the age of three. She knew better than anyone how animals, even the deadliest ones, had a way of gravitating to Adelaide.

With a resigned sigh, Elaine finally relented. “Fine. Keep him if you must, but you’d better take good care of him, and keep him out of everyone’s way.”

Adelaide grinned, her eyes alight with mischief. “Of course! I’ll keep him in my room, and he’ll be the best-behaved spider you’ll ever meet.”

Elaine gave an exasperated smile, muttering something under her breath about “duchesses and their impossible whims” as she went back to her tasks. The other maids, however, still looked warily at the spider perched happily on Adelaide’s shoulder, clearly unconvinced that it was anything other than a lurking menace.