The North's Shadow

Fire and Frost

As the laughter and clinking mugs faded, Duke Valouron's gaze shifted back to Alaric and me, his tone turning more serious. "Preparations for tomorrow are almost in order," he said, addressing Alaric. "The square is already set for the Great Fire."

Alaric's eyes brightened. "Good to hear, Your Grace. I imagine the townsfolk are eager—they've waited all year for this."

I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. "What exactly happens at this festival? I keep hearing about it, but no one's given me the full story."

Duke Valouron met my gaze, his voice steady. "It's the Winter Festival," he explained, "a tradition to mark the end of the darkest days and welcome the light. We gather for music, food, performances... and the lighting of the Great Fire."

My curiosity only grew. "The Great Fire?"

"It's more than a bonfire," Alaric said with a smile. "The fire represents endurance through winter. People bring offerings—candles, gifts—to honor the past and look ahead to brighter days."

"That sounds... beautiful. I'd love to see it."

The Duke paused, as if measuring me. "It can be overwhelming, especially for newcomers."

I shrugged. "I think I can handle it."

Duke Valouron inclined his head, as though thoughtfully considering. "You may join us tomorrow night. Just... keep your curiosity contained," he added, a faint glint of amusement in his eyes.

Alaric chuckled, raising his mug. "I'll keep an eye on her, Your Grace."

I grinned, clinking my mug with his. "I'll behave. Mostly."

As the table fell into a comfortable silence, I caught Duke Valouron's gaze lingering on me, and quickly looked away. Tomorrow night, I thought, as I felt a flush creep up my cheeks.

He cleared his throat and stood. "Since you're here, you might as well see the preparations firsthand," he said, as if it were the most casual suggestion in the world.

Wait, did he mean... now? I blinked. "Oh, uh, sure," I said, glancing at Alaric, who raised an eyebrow, looking just as surprised as I felt.

"Enjoy yourself, Reese," Alaric said, his tone a little too playful.

I shot him a look as I got to my feet.

...

The moment we stepped out into the night, I instinctively crossed my arms to keep from shivering. Ah yes, the delightful sensation of freezing to death. Duke Valouron noticed, and before I could blink, he unclasped his cloak and draped it over my shoulders.

I looked up, caught off guard. "Thank you," I murmured, half in surprise, half in relief as warmth seeped into me.

We walked through the quieting town toward the square, lanterns casting a warm glow on the snow-dusted streets. Villagers were still bustling around, hanging ribbons and garlands of pine across doorways, putting the final touches on decorations. And here I thought medieval festivals were all mud and mayhem. This was practically like a holiday movie.

"Didn't expect to find myself on a midnight stroll with the Duke," I teased, casting him a sideways glance. "Or that he'd be willing to babysit me after a drink or two."

Duke Valouron's brow lifted slightly. "I assure you, Miss Mackey, 'babysitting' was not the intent. But if you feel unsteady, I wouldn't want you wandering off into more lakes."

"You don't trust me? I'm very coordinated," I shot back, trying to sound convincing—despite the slight stumble I made over the uneven cobblestone.