Reminder: This is just a special chapter for Christmas; this is not involved in the main story line. ❄️☃️🎄🎄

In the early morning of Wintermere, snowflakes drifted gently past the arched window, their delicate descent visible against the pale light of dawn. The hallways of Lucien's manor were quiet, save for the soft echo of sandals on polished stone.

Adeline stood before the grand double doors of Lucien's study. The crisp chill of the winter morning seeped through the manor's halls, but she paid it a little mind, her thoughts occupied by the unexpected summon. Letting out a quiet sigh, she raised her hand and knocked softly, breaking the silence.

"Your Grace?" she called, her voice measured and composed.

From inside came a deep, authoritative reply, "Come in."

The door creaked open, revealing Lucien seated behind his polished oak desk. His sharp gaze lifted from the stack of documents before him, briefly assessing her. He wore a black waistcoat adorned with a silver embroidered pattern, paired with a blue long-sleeved shirt and a neatly knotted black tie.

Adeline hesitated for a heartbeat before stepping inside, her movements graceful yet tinged with a subtle uncertainty.

"I was informed that you wished to see me." she asked, her tone was polite but steady.

Lucien gestured toward one of the upholstered chairs near his desk. "Yes. Please, take a seat."

She complied, sitting with practiced poise. Her hands rested lightly on her lap, her eyes attentive as she waited for him to speak.

"I'll cut to the chase, have you ever heard of Everfrost Merriment?" Lucien asked, his voice even.

"I've heard about it in Veridonia; it's a festival in Wintermere during Yuletide Season, but I didn't really know its full detail," she replied.

"It is just a simple Festival held during this season. It is a time for the townsfolk to celebrate and for the nobility to reaffirm their connection to their people."

Adeline nodded. "I see."

"As a Duke and Duchess of Wintermere," he continued, his tone measured, "it is customary for us to attend together, to greet the townsfolk and show solidarity during the festivities. However..."  He paused, his expression softening ever so slightly. "I understand this may be unfamiliar to you, given your recent transition into this role. I want you to know that your participation is entirely your choice. If you feel strongly against it, I will respect your decision."

Adeline was silent for a moment, considering his words. Then, to Lucien's mild surprise, she nodded. "I will join you, Your Grace. If this tradition holds meaning for Wintermere, it is only right that I do my part."

Lucien's brow lifted slightly, his surprise evident. "What?"

Adeline blinked at his reaction, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. "Is there something wrong?"

"No. I just... didn't expect that response."

A small, polite smile curved Adeline's lips. "I only wish to fulfill my duties, Your Grace."

Lucien hesitated for a moment, as though weighing whether to say more. In the end, he gave a curt nod. "I see. We'll leave this morning."

Adeline rose, her long skirts brushing softly against the polished floor as she inclined her head. "I shall be ready. If that is all, Your Grace?"

"That is all. Thank you."

She turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back with a fleeting expression of curiosity. Her lips parted as though she meant to speak, but she thought better of it. Instead, she offered a graceful nod and stepped out, the door clicking shut behind her.

Lucien leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on the space she had just occupied. For a moment, his thoughts wandered, drifting back to Clara's earlier words.

'Uncle Lucien, my Christmas request is for you to attend the festival with Aunt Adeline!'

"I can't believe I am doing this." He murmured under his breath.

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Outside the estate, the air was crisp with the unmistakable chill of winter. Clara, bundled in her green cloak with her hair neatly tucked behind it, was hard at work. Ivy, her little green fox familiar, scurried playfully around her, occasionally stopping to paw at the snow.

Above them, Ashwing and Sylvie, the young dragons, circled curiously with their little wings. Their warm breaths melted small patches of snow, sending wisps of steam into the frosty air as they hovered near Clara's activity.

Clara crouched by the side of the path, rolling a ball of snow with both hands. Ivy nudged at it with her nose, chipping in with her own tiny paws to help. "We need a bigger one," Clara said, her golden eyes glinting with determination. The ball grew larger, and soon Clara pushed it forward with all her might.

"Come on, Ivy! And no going giant, okay?" she called, her breath puffing out in the cold air. The little fox yipped cheerfully and pressed his paws against the snowball, her tail wagging furiously.

Finally, Clara stopped and stepped back, brushing the snow from her gloves. She looked up at the two young dragons, who had landed nearby, their wings stirring the snow at their feet.

Clara then made a snowball again, but this ball is now smaller, the same as her head.

"All right, Sylvie, can you lift this snowball on top of the big one?" she instructed, pointing to the base. "And Ashwing, use the carrot for the nose and the buttons for the eyes. Oh, and don't forget the beanie and scarf, they'll make it look perfect!"

With a few flaps of her wings, Sylvie gently hoisted the snowball into place, while Ashwing carefully set the carrot and buttons in their spots with his nimble claws, adding the bonnet and scarf for the finishing touches. Finally, Clara pressed the twigs into the sides as arms and slipped gloves onto their ends.

Clara clapped her hands together as she stepped back to admire their handiwork. A bright laugh bubbled out of her, ringing through the frosty morning like a chime. "Perfect teamwork!" she declared, her cheeks rosy from the cold and excitement.

The elderly gardener, Mr. Geller, paused with a chuckle, leaning on the handle of his snow-filled wheelbarrow. "What a big Snowman you have there, My young lady," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Clara grinned, brushing the snow from her cloak. She grabbed the two buckets of snow and handed it to him. "Teamwork makes the dream work, Mr. Geller. We'll have this snowy path clear in no time!"

Then, the sound of crunching boots in the snow drew her attention. She turned to see Lucien and Adeline approaching, their breath visible in the frosty air. Lucien's dark coat, with golden pattern, billowed slightly in the wind, and Adeline clutched her cloak beneath her light blue dress, tightly around her shoulders, her face lighting up as she spotted Clara.

"What are you doing out here, Clara?" Lucien asked, his deep voice tinged with curiosity.

"Helping Mr. Geller, of course!" she replied brightly. "There's so much snow, and he needs a hand."

"Good Morning, Duchess, Duke; I must say what a fine help she's been." Mr. Geller said with a warm smile. "I owe her more than just thanks. She found my late wife's coat for me—had been missing since the last snowfall."

Adeline tilted her head, intrigued. "Oh? How did you manage that, Clara?"

Clara grinned, pointing at Ivy, who was now digging enthusiastically into a nearby snowdrift. "It was mostly Ivy. She keeps dragging me and keep pointing at a certain location, and she wouldn't stop digging until we found it buried under the snow."

The old gardener chuckled, his eyes crinkling. "Young lady's familiar sure is amazing. They made my day finding that coat. It means the world to me."

Lucien's expression softened as he glanced at Clara. "You've done well, Clara."

Seeing the two together, Clara smirked, crossing her arms with a playful glint in her golden eyes. "Wow, look at you two—arriving here together. Isn't this cozy?" she teased, her tone dripping with mischief.

Adeline's cheeks flushed a faint pink as she glanced away, but Lucien merely raised an eyebrow. "Do not presume too much, Clara. We are here to inform you that we shall be away for some time." he said evenly.

Clara laughed, throwing her hands in the air dramatically. "Of course, I am aware, Uncle. But come on, lighten up a little, will you?"

Lucien shook his head, but there was warmth in his eyes as he gestured to the manor. "Come inside soon when you are done. It's too cold to stay out much longer."

Clara gave him a mock salute. "Yes, sir!"

As the two turned to leave, Clara crouched beside Ivy, whispering with a mischievous grin, "Do you think they even realize how adorable they look together?"

Ivy responded with a soft yip, her tail wagging enthusiastically in agreement.

"Hehe, I know, right?" Clara giggled, her laughter mirrored by Ivy's cheerful chirp.

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As the two finally arrive the town, the carriage came to a halt at the town square, its wheels crunching softly over the packed snow. The Valenhart crest was adorned on the carriage door gleamed in the pale winter sun, drawing the immediate attention of the townsfolk. A small crowd began to gather, murmurs rippling through the air as people craned their necks for a better view.

When Lucien stepped out first, his tall figure and commanding presence brought the crowd to a respectful hush. He adjusted his tie and black coat, his gloved hands briefly smoothing the fabric as he scanned the square with his sharp gaze.

Adeline followed, stepping lightly from the carriage with the aid of Lucien's offered hand. Her light blue dress and cloak, elegant yet modest, seemed to catch the light, and the subtle warmth in her smile eased the tension in the air.

"The Duke and Duchess have arrived!" someone yelled, and soon the murmurs turned into quiet cheers of welcome.

A few braver souls called out their festive greetings. "Happy Yuletide, Your Grace! Thank you for gracing us with your presence!"

Lucien gave them a nod, his gaze steady but softened a little. "Happy Yuletide to you all," he replied, his voice carrying authority with kindness.

Adeline, feeling the weight of so many eyes, inclined her head gracefully. "It's a pleasure to celebrate this season with you," she said, her tone clear yet gentle, earning smiles from the townsfolk.

It didn't take long until their greetings was done, the people finally welcome them to the town leaving them alone for their own privacy.

Stepped into the heart of Wintermere's square, where Everfrost Merriment was in full bloom. Snow blanketed the cobblestones beneath their boots, crunching softly with every step. 

Children ran past them, their laughter echoing through the crisp air. The scent of spiced cider and roasted chestnuts wafted towards them, mingling with the sharp, invigorating chill of the winter.

As they arrived in the middle of the town, Adeline tilted her head back, marveling at the intricate ice sculptures adorned with crystals beneath the light of the towering bonfire at the festival's center.

"This must be the Winterkindle," Lucien murmured, his voice low but touched with a faint warmth as he glanced toward the blaze. The flames roared higher, casting shadows of revelers across the walls of nearby buildings, while townsfolk gathered to toss sprigs of evergreen into the fire—a tradition meant to burn away the hardships of the past year.

"I heard about this. They also said each branch carries a wish, right?" Adeline said, her breath visible in the frigid air. Her voice was soft, thoughtful, as she watched a little girl carefully toss a sprig into the flames. "Let's get closer, Your Grace. Would you like to give it a try?"

Lucien didn't respond, but before he could, his hand was dragged by her. Adeline then spoke to the keepers as they handed her two sprigs. "Here, Your Grace," she said, handing him a sprig. Lucien slowly took it from her hand, though his thoughts were elsewhere.

After Adeline finished her wish, she gently tossed her sprig into the flames. As she turned, she saw Lucien with a sprig still in his hand. "May I ask, what will be your wish, Your Grace?"

He hesitated, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he tossed his own sprig as he turned to her. "I think wishes are better shown in actions," he said, glancing at her, as though the answer was already unfolding before them. "And what about you?"

Adeline didn't answer right away. Her gaze lingered on the fire, the light dancing in her wide, thoughtful eyes. "For a place where I truly belong," she said at last, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Lucien was silent, the faint sounds of music drifting toward them from a group of fiddlers nearby. The tune was lively, pulling couples and families into impromptu dances. "Let's proceed further," he said, offering his hand for her to hold. "and you'll see what else the Merriment has to offer before it sweeps us into its dance."

Adeline hesitated before slipping her hand into his, their fingers brushing as they strolled deeper into the bustling square. Stalls lined the cobblestone paths, offering braided Yule wreaths and jars of jewel-toned berry preserves that glistened like captured sunlight. A troupe of masked performers, adorned in flowing silver and white, wove gracefully through the crowd, their movements bringing Wintermere's ancient fables to life.

The townsfolk paused to bow or curtsy in respect to their duke and duchess, their faces lighting up with joy at their presence.

"What a beautiful sight," Adeline murmured, her gaze sweeping over the vibrant market.

Lucien inclined his head slightly. "Wintermere takes great pride in this festival. The market brings the people together."

Adeline's lips curved into a small smile. "And it seems you've brought me here to ensure I experience it firsthand."

He coughed lightly, clearing his throat as he averted his gaze. "I... suppose."

I can't tell her this was all Clara's idea. She even insisted I keep it a secret, he thought, glancing briefly at her before looking away.

They passed a stall selling hand-carved wooden toys, and Adeline paused, her attention drawn to a miniature rocking horse. She picked it up delicately, running her fingers over the intricate details.

"This would be perfect for Clara," she said.

Lucien tilted his head, observing her choice. "She's always had a fondness for craftsmanship."

Adeline handed a coin to the vendor, who thanked her profusely. As they moved on, Lucien gestured toward another stall where a blacksmith was displaying small, forged trinkets. He picked up a delicate snowflake-shaped pendant, its silvery surface catching the faint winter sunlight.

"For you," he said, his tone measured yet sincere.

Adeline blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "For me?"

Lucien offered a faint smile. "Consider this a token of gratitude—for agreeing to accompany me today."

Her cheeks flushed faintly as she accepted the gift, turning it over in her gloved hand. "Thank you, Your Grace. It's... beautiful."

The vendor, who had been watching them with keen eyes, grinned broadly. "A lovely choice, Duke. It would look even lovelier if you helped the Duchess wear it."

Adeline's eyes widened slightly, a hint of color blooming on her cheeks. She glanced at Lucien, uncertain of what he might say.

Lucien hesitated for a moment, his expression unreadable, before inclining his head. "If my... wife permits," he said, his tone even.

The atmosphere seemed to freeze. Adeline nodded, her fingers brushing against the chain before handing it to him. "Of course," she said softly.

Lucien stepped closer, taking the pendant from her hands. With practiced ease, he unclasped the chain and motioned for her to turn around. She complied, brushing a loose strand of hair from her neck as he draped the delicate chain around her. His fingers brushed against her skin, sending an unexpected warmth through her despite the chill in the air. She held her breath, as though afraid even the slightest movement might break the fragile spell of the moment.

"There," he murmured, his voice low and steady.

Adeline turned back to face him, her gloved hand instinctively reaching for the pendant that now rested just below her collarbone. She looked up at him, her expression unreadable for a moment, before softening into something warmer. "Thank you, Your Grace. It means a great deal."

Lucien stepped back, his gaze lingering on her for a beat longer than necessary. "It suits you," he said simply, before turning to the vendor and handing over the payment.

The vendor beamed. "Thank you, Duke, for your patronage. A fine choice indeed."

Adeline's fingers lingered on the snowflake, the cool metal against her skin a stark contrast to the warmth she now felt radiating from within.

With a faint smile, they continued their stroll, matching her pace beside Lucien, and together, they continued seeing beautiful things through the Everfrost Merriment, the vibrant festival unfolding around them like a living painting.

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As the evening fell, Lucien and Adeline arrived home. After the carriage came to a halt, they both descended and made their way toward the grand estate. Upon entering the manor, Clara bounded toward them, with Ivy trailing behind, snowflakes clinging to her green fur. Clara wore a triumphant smile and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You made it back, Uncle! Duchess!" she exclaimed. "How was it? Did you two have fun?"

Lucien raised an eyebrow at her enthusiasm. "It was a festival, not a game, Clara."

Clara rolled her eyes dramatically. "Well, I bet Aunt Adeline enjoyed it more than you did."

Adeline chuckled, kneeling slightly to meet Clara's gaze. "It was lovely. Your uncle was a very patient companion." She reached into her pocket and revealed an intricately carved wooden horse. The smooth curves and delicate details of the toy hinted at the care put into its creation.

"For you, Clara," Adeline said warmly, offering the toy.

Clara's eyes widened as she took it eagerly, turning it over in her hands to admire the craftsmanship. "Thank you, Aunt Adeline! It's beautiful!" she exclaimed, her golden eyes gleaming with delight. "Look, Ivy! Isn't it wonderful?" 

Ivy nodded and let out a yip.

Her gaze then landed on the delicate snowflake pendant resting against Adeline's collarbone, and a playful spark lit in her eyes. "Oh... a snowflake pendant. How charming," she teased. "A gift, perhaps? Or should I say... a token of love? How thoughtful."

Adeline stiffened, her cheeks flushed. Lucien cleared his throat, his gaze flickering briefly to Adeline before settling on Clara with an air of quiet authority. "You should get some rest, Clara. It's been a long day."

Clara sighed dramatically but relented, heading off with Ivy close behind. "Fine. But only because I'm sleepy."

The maids promptly escorted Clara to her room. As she disappeared up the grand staircase with Ivy trailing closely behind, the manor grew still once more, the only sound was the gentle crackle of the fireplace.

Once alone in the spacious living room, Lucien poured two cups of tea and handed one to Adeline. She accepted it with a murmured thanks, the warmth of the cup seeping into her gloved hands.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the quiet ticking of a clock filling the space between them. Finally, Adeline broke the stillness. "Thank you for inviting me today, Your Grace. I truly enjoyed myself."

Lucien glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "You're welcome," he replied simply, though his tone carried a weight of sincerity.

Adeline blinked, slightly caught off guard. "I wasn't even sure if I was really useful back there. I didn't feel like I was a duchess at all."

"It's alright to step out of convention sometimes," Lucien said, his voice low yet steady. "From what I observed, they seemed to like you."

Adeline's fingers tightened slightly around her cup, her heart fluttering unexpectedly at his words. "I'm glad it went well," she said softly, her gaze dropping to the tea swirling in her cup.

From the moment their eyes finally met, the firelight seemed to dance in the depths of their gaze. For a brief moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the quiet warmth of the room and the unspoken connection between them.

Lucien was the first to look away, taking a sip of his tea that ran through his throat. "We'll finish this tea before heading back to sleep," he said.

Adeline nodded, her voice soft. "Yes, Your Grace."

The quiet stretched between them once more, but it was a comforting silence. Adeline sipped her tea, savoring its warmth as it chased away the lingering chill of the evening. Across from her, Lucien leaned back slightly, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the hearth. There was no need for words—just the soft crackle of the fire, the steady ticking of the clock, and the shared stillness that seemed to speak volumes.