Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate
Chapter 220: Late Night Summon...

Chapter 220: Late Night Summon...

The forest gave way, replaced by jagged stone peaks, scorched valleys, and skies lit by the clouds of wildfire. She felt like she was no longer viewing the world through her own eyes. Instead, she was caught up in someone else’s experience, connected to a pain that didn’t belong to her.

The air was dry. The world... dying.

She saw the cracked earth of the Scorched Vale—once lush, now broken and black. Rivers of molten light flowed through dead forests. Where there had once been life, there was only ash.

And dragons.

Three massive dragons lay on a cliff, looking worn and tired. Their wings were frayed, and their scales had lost their shine. One dragon, distinguished by a crimson streak that matched Draven’s hair, stretched out a claw toward a pedestal made of black obsidian.

The pedestal was empty.

Where the pearl should have been.

A wave of agony surged through Evelina, and she gasped.

The scene changed once more—Draven appeared younger, his arms covered in soot as he held a charred hatchling close to him. In the background, flames were raging, and his scream pierced the air, filled with deep sorrow and loss.

He had watched his people fall.

Watched his home wither.

And the one thing that could’ve restored it—the pearl—was gone.

Stolen.

Evelina fell to her knees in the forest, breath heaving. The vision snapped back, and the world around her rushed in again—trees, wind, darkness.

Relia’s voice was sharp. "Evelina. Talk to me. What did you see?"

She gritted her teeth and forced herself upright. "Their lands... they’re dying. The pearl was supposed to anchor them. Keep their magic alive."

"Then he wasn’t lying."

"No," Evelina murmured, wiping her mouth. "He wasn’t."

She staggered to her feet, clutching the pearl tighter, as if it could tether her to something solid.

And despite the whirlwind in her chest, one thing was certain now.

She couldn’t ignore this any longer.

She had seen Tobias’s weapons.

She had seen Draven’s pain.

And somehow, she was caught between the two.

—

Evelina walked through the forest, feeling like the trees were watching her and the wind was trying to share secrets she couldn’t quite grasp.

Her boots stumbled on roots, and her cloak got caught on branches, but she didn’t mind at all. She held the pearl close to her chest. Its glow had faded but still pulsed softly, as if it, too, was tired from revealing its mysteries to her.

Her hands trembled, though whether from cold, adrenaline, or the aftershock of the vision—she couldn’t tell.

She was angry. Furious, even.

But the rage wasn’t pointed in any one direction. \

It spread across her like a wildfire that refused to choose what to burn. Tobias, with his explosives and cold ambitions. Draven, with his impossible demands and old griefs. Zade, with his unspoken questions. Damian, with his steady trust, she no longer felt she deserved.

And herself, most of all herself, for standing between worlds and not knowing how to hold either one.

"I’m not a saviour," she muttered aloud as she reached the edge of the trees. "I’m barely holding myself together."

"You’re more than that," Relia whispered, quieter this time. "You always have been. That’s why they all look to you."

"I didn’t ask them to."

"No. But that doesn’t mean you get to look away."

She didn’t respond.

The palace walls loomed in front of her, bathed in moonlight. The eastern gate was as peaceful as always—the one she always slipped through without drawing attention. As she approached, she anticipated the usual calm and the brief nod from a dozing guard.

Instead, she stopped dead.

Four guards stood waiting.

Not pacing. Not resting.

Waiting.

They seemed to be expecting her, almost like they had been sent for her. Evelina felt a lump form in her throat as one of the guards stepped closer, his expression serious beneath his helmet.

"Lady Evelina," he said. "The King requests your presence. Immediately."

Her heart sank.

"Uhmm... It’s pretty late," she tried. "Is it something urgent or can it wait till—"

"His words were very clear, my lady," the guard interrupted. "It’s not a request."

She glanced past them toward the keep’s towers, her mind spinning.

She hadn’t been followed. She was sure of it.

But as she walked between the guards, steps echoing on stone, she knew—someone had seen her.

And there was only one person petty and vindictive enough to follow her, stay quiet, and then sell the story for leverage.

Selene.

Damn her.

The throne hall wasn’t full when she entered, but it wasn’t empty either.

At the far end, King Lucien stood under the tall stained-glass windows, his stance stiff and formal. Lord Alderic was beside him with his arms crossed, looking serious.

Off to the side was Selene, her hands clasped behind her back. She looked calm on the outside, but her eyes sparkled with satisfaction.

And then there was Damian.

At the foot of the steps, arms folded, a storm in his eyes.

He looked at her like he didn’t know whether to hold her or demand answers.

Evelina slowed.

She knew this feeling.

The tightening chest. The crawl of heat across her back. It was the same sensation as her trial months ago—when they accused her of treason and betrayal and left her to burn alone.

She stopped halfway up the hall. "I was told the king wished to speak with me."

Lucien’s voice was cold. "You left the palace grounds without permission during active security restrictions. Do you deny it?"

"No," she said quietly. "I left."

"Why?" he asked. "Where did you go?"

Evelina’s eyes flicked toward Selene, who smiled, just faintly.

"You were seen," Lucien said. "Near the southern forests. Slipping through the underbrush, meeting someone."

"That’s not what happened," Evelina said quickly. "I wasn’t meeting anyone. I had to confirm a lead on the rogue forces. On the tunnel system."

"And this lead required you to go alone?" Alderic asked dryly. "With no backup?"

"Yes," Evelina snapped. "Because I couldn’t risk losing the trail. I couldn’t risk crying wolf without evidence. And I wasn’t wrong."

Selene stepped forward. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. But surely you must see the pattern here. She always moves without command. Always has her own secrets. Perhaps the last time we accused her, we were simply... early."

"Enough," Damian said. The word cracked through the room like thunder.

He turned toward Evelina, gaze fixed.

"Just tell me," he said. "Whatever this is—tell me now. I’ll fight for you, Evie. I always will. But I can’t protect you if you keep me in the dark."

Evelina stared at him, her chest hollow.

The whole room was watching. But in this moment, it was only him that mattered.

Damian. Her mate. The man who would burn the world for her if she asked.

And she was standing here, wrapped in secrets.

Because the truth would burn more than any fire ever could.

"I didn’t meet with an enemy," she said carefully. "I found one. A tunnel was built beneath the southern range. I followed my instinct, and it led me to that place. Luther is building something. Preparing something."

"That’s not what the report said," Selene cut in. "The guards you passed said you weren’t alone when you left the forest. That someone else fled in the opposite direction moments after you emerged."

"I was attacked," Evelina said. "By masked soldiers. Luther’s men. They found me first. I fought them. I barely got out."

Selene raised a brow in doubt. "And then they just... let you walk away?"

"I didn’t say that," Evelina snapped. "I said I fought."

"And survived alone?" Alderic’s tone was razor-sharp now. "It sounds a little too convenient."

Evelina’s hand twitched at her side.

Relia muttered in her mind, "Breathe, Evie. You throw a punch here, and the gallows will beat you back to it."

Lucien’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. "That’s enough."

The room fell still again.

The king descended a step from the dais, his eyes shadowed in the colored light of the stained-glass moon above.

"It’s late," he said. "This hall isn’t where we settle half-truths and assumptions. Tomorrow, you will return. You’ll present your evidence—what you found, what you saw. You’ll be questioned... thoroughly."

Evelina’s spine stiffened, but she nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Lucien turned to Damian. "In the meantime, I was prepared to place her under palace surveillance."

Damian stepped forward. "No."

"Damian—"

"She’ll stay with me. Under protective custody."

Lucien’s brow lifted, but he didn’t argue.

Damian added, "Just like last time, she won’t be leaving my sight for ant reason."

Selene looked as if she were biting into glass.

"Very well," the king said. "But if she leaves your chambers again without notice... the council won’t be so generous."

"I understand," Damian replied.

Lucien gave one final look to Evelina—measured, uncertain, but not yet damning—before he turned away.

Alderic followed silently.

Selene remained a beat longer, just long enough to murmur, "Maybe next time you won’t be so lucky," as she passed Evelina’s shoulder.

Evelina didn’t flinch. "I make my own luck."