Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate
Chapter 200: Sparring...

Chapter 200: Sparring...

The days that followed were quiet—too quiet.

No explosions, no threats, no looming assassins. Just peace. The kind that made Evelina restless.

She spent her mornings in the gardens or training yard, her afternoons in the war rooms listening to strategy briefings she barely understood, and her evenings with Damian. Always, Damian.

At first, it had been innocent—shared meals, sparring matches, brief walks through the flowering courtyards of Arcadia’s upper levels. Then it became bold.

A brush of hands here and there, a teasing look there. She’d catch his gaze lingering just a little too long, and instead of looking away, she’d let it linger too.

He made her laugh.

Gods, it had been so long since someone made her laugh without strings.

He teased her about her poor aim with throwing knives. She mocked his overly serious brooding. He’d bring her flowers—wild, mismatched bundles of blooms he claimed were from "classified royal sources," and she’d pretend to hate them before secretly placing them in a small glass on her bedside table.

Sometimes, he’d reach for her hand without asking. Other times, he’d lean in close enough that her breath caught in her throat, his voice low and warm in her ear.

He tried to kiss her. Often.

In the halls. On balconies. In the middle of a strategy debrief once, when she’d whispered something sarcastic about a pompous advisor and he’d nearly lost it trying not to laugh.

She stopped him each time when they were in public—sometimes with a finger to his lips, sometimes with a raised eyebrow.

But behind closed doors, they went at each other... hard.

Even Relia had gone quiet in her mind, letting her be—for now.

The only shadow on the week was Luther’s absence.

No one had seen him in weeks. Damian said he’s probably fled, but Eve wondered if Luther would really just walk away without trying to get back at her and the council. Still, the peace was welcome.

Until Zade returned.

He arrived from a three day self recon journey and headed straight for his chambers.

His manservant, a nervous boy named Hal, scurried to catch up. "W-welcome back, Your Highness. I’ve tidied your rooms and—"

"What did I miss?" Zade asked, not breaking stride.

"Ah. Nothing dangerous, sir. A quiet week aside the council meetings, patrols and curfew. Lady Evelina and Prince Damian had a picnic in the Western Grove. There were wine and dancing—"

Zade stopped walking.

"Picnic?"

Hal nodded quickly. "Yes, my lord. The servants say it was... charming. The two of them—" he hesitated, "seemed to be getting closer."

Zade’s jaw clenched. "Dismissed."

The boy fled.

That evening, as the sun set and painted the sky a bright orange, more people started to gather at the sparring ground.

You could hear the familiar sounds of steel clashing, people grunting as they worked hard, and commands being shouted. But underneath it all, there was a tense energy in the air.

Damian was already there, stretching, his shirt tossed aside. Zade stepped onto the sand a moment later, his expression unreadable.

"Friendly match?" Damian offered, raising a brow.

Zade rolled his shoulders. "Sure."

Damian spotted Evelina walking in and tossed a small grin her way. "Try not to be too impressed, my lady. I’d hate for you to faint from admiration."

"Noted," Evelina deadpanned. "I’ll try not to swoon."

Zade didn’t smile.

They began with slow movements—testing strikes, blocks, and turns. But within minutes, the rhythm changed—faster, rougher. Precision gave way to raw force.

Then something snapped.

Zade’s form blurred.

He moved with incredible speed, letting out a low growl as his wolf, Rhaziel emerged. His blade buzzed with raw energy.

Storm met the call instantly.

His body shifted, not into a full shift, but enough—eyes glowing silver, aura flaring with contained fury.

"You shouldn’t be this close to her," Zade growled mid-swing. "Evelina. She’s..."

Steel clashed. Sparks flew.

"She’s not yours." Damian blocked, twisted, and struck back. "She’s not a prize, Zade."

The impact of their blades cracked the stone under their feet.

Zade snarled, voice roughened by Rhaziel’s anger. "She shouldn’t be yours."

Damian’s blade slammed into Zade’s, locking them together. His voice dropped into a deadly calm. "Then maybe you should’ve said something before she chose."

With a final explosive clash, the two were thrown apart, their wolves pulling back just before full transformation. Dust filled the air.

When the two finally separated, sweat dripping and blood trailing from shallow cuts, Zade’s eyes returned to normal.

Damian said nothing. He simply turned, grabbed a cloth to wipe his blade, and walked off without a word.

Zade stayed a moment longer, catching his breath. His gaze swept over the crowd—and landed on Evelina.

Evelina stood frozen, heart pounding.

That hadn’t been training.

That had been personal.

Immediately, she went after her mate, Damian.

Later that evening, she moved through the stone corridors of the castle, thoughts still scattered from the match. Her boots echoed softly, and her cloak brushed her legs.

Until Zade stepped out from a side hall, blocking her path.

She stopped, surprised but not startled.

He didn’t look angry now—just... tired. Tired in a way that settled deep in his bones.

"Do you trust my brother?" he asked abruptly.

Evelina blinked. "What?"

"Damian," he said, more quietly. "Do you trust him?"

She hesitated.

"I trust what he shows me," she said finally. "And what we feel for each other."

Zade gave a short, humorless laugh.

"Feelings lie," he said. "And people wear masks. Especially him."

Evelina frowned. "What are you trying to say?"

"I’m saying," he murmured, stepping just a little closer, "that I’ve known my brother all my life. He’s good at pretending. Charming, controlled, deliberate. He hides his intentions behind smiles and wine. But you..." He studied her face. "You wear your heart in your eyes, even when you try not to."

Her hands clenched at her sides.

"You think I’m being fooled?"

Zade didn’t answer directly. "I think you’re trying to find peace. And I respect that. But you deserve to see the full picture, not just the part that looks safe."

She stared at him, uncertain how to respond.

He exhaled and stepped back, tone softening. "Just... be careful. With him."

And then he walked away, leaving her standing alone in the dim corridor.