Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate
Chapter 224: We Need to Tell Him...

Chapter 224: We Need to Tell Him...

"I’ll return the pearl," she said softly, pulling it from her pouch.

Draven’s eyes lit up the moment she revealed it, like something ancient had stirred inside him.

She stepped forward and held it out.

He picked it up carefully, treating it with respect. As soon as his fingers made contact, a warm golden light spread up his arms, flowing through the scales of his skin.

The room was lit briefly with light.

A whisper echoed—like a breath of wind, like dragons exhaling from far away.

Then the light faded.

Draven looked at her. "It still remembers you."

"Then I’ll go," Evelina said. "I’ll answer the Council’s questions. I’ll face whatever they need me to."

"Evie—" Damian began.

She turned toward him. "If I don’t... if they come here, they won’t just take the pearl. They’ll take Arcadia too."

Damian stared at her. Jaw clenched. His hand twitched like he wanted to reach for her, stop her.

But he didn’t.

Zade stepped up beside her. "Then we both go."

"No—" she began.

"Both," Draven cut in. "You bear its memory. He took it from our land. The Council will accept two in restitution. But no more."

Lucien glanced between them, clearly displeased, but he said nothing.

—

The echo of Draven’s departure still lingered in the council hall like smoke after fire.

Evelina remained standing near the throne’s dais, with Zade beside her and Damian just behind. The rest of the council had been summoned swiftly.

Tension clung to the air like static, and even the stained-glass windows seemed to darken as voices began to rise.

"The audacity," one noble spat, slamming a palm on the marble table. "To threaten Arcadia within our own walls—"

"He didn’t threaten us," said Lord Varric coolly, "he offered restraint. If you’d been paying attention, you’d understand that was mercy."

"Mercy? From a creature with molten blood?"

"This is not the matter at hand!" King Lucien’s voice thundered through the chamber, silencing the debate. "We’re sitting on the edge of two wars: one we barely understand, and another built beneath our feet. Focus."

Selene’s voice was the first to break the hush. Sweet. Polished. Venomous.

"We wouldn’t be in this situation if Evelina hadn’t carried that cursed object in the first place," she said, stepping into the ring of discussion. "Or if she hadn’t consorted with a creature none of us vetted, behind the King’s back. It’s reckless. Borderline treasonous."

Damian took one step forward, face thunderous. "Careful, Selene."

"No, let her speak," Evelina said quietly.

Selene’s eyes narrowed.

"I never asked for the pearl," Evelina continued. "It was given to me. I had no idea what it truly was, or that it would draw danger to our gates.

"But if we’re throwing blame—" her gaze lifted, "—let’s not forget you also stole the gem, or it was discovered in your chambers. Maybe if I’d let it be, you’d be the one to be summoned to the creature’s hometown."

Selene’s expression twitched. Just slightly. But it was enough.

Before the words could escalate into a firestorm, Damian stepped forward again and raised his hand. "Your Majesty. May I speak with Evelina for a minute... privately?"

The room fell into a thick silence.

King Lucien’s eyes flicked to his son. "Why?" he asked in a flat but tensed tone. "What do you need to say to her that you can’t say in front of your king, your council, and the court she put in danger?"

Damian didn’t falter.

"Because it’s important," he said. "And you’ll understand soon."

A heavy silence stretched.

Lucien studied him for a long beat—his storm-grey eyes were unreadable, his lips pressed into a line. Then, finally, he gave a slight nod.

"Very well," the king said. His voice carried the weight of command. "The rest of you—wait outside."

The nobles hesitated, muttering among themselves, but one by one they filed out, glancing back at Evelina with narrowed or uncertain eyes.

Selene stayed behind the longest, her face showing a cool, polite expression. Lord Alderic was the last to go, his jaw tight with disapproval as his footsteps echoed in the quiet room when the doors closed behind him.

Only three remained.

Lucien. Damian. Evelina.

The silence returned, heavy as smoke.

And then Damian turned toward her, his voice dropping low, though no words left his lips.

Instead, he opened the mindlink.

"Evie," he said in her thoughts, "we need to tell him."

Evelina’s breath hitched softly.

"I promised I’d protect you. I meant it. But my father... he’s the king. His decisions override even mine. If this goes to a vote, half the council will choose the path of least resistance. They’ll give Draven what he wants."

"Me,"

Damian nodded once, his gaze locked on hers.

"Yes. And if we don’t stop that now, we might not get another chance. He needs to know what’s really going on."

"What would you tell him?"

"Everything," he said. "About your origins. Tobias. Draven. The pearl. Everything."

"And if he doesn’t believe it?"

"He will," Damian said simply. "He might not want to. But he will because it’s the only explanation that makes sense now. If there were any other way, Evie, I’d take it in a heartbeat. But the longer we let this fester in half-truths, the more ground we lose."

She hesitated, her fingers twitching at her side.

Then she nodded.

"Do what you have to. I trust you."

And she meant it.

She gave him a soft look—just for him—and turned to Lucien with a shallow bow of respect.

"Your Majesty," she said quietly. "If you’ll excuse me."

Lucien didn’t answer at first. He simply watched her go, the frown on his brow deepening as she passed through the great double doors and disappeared beyond.

Then slowly... he turned toward his son.

"You’ve got my attention," the king said, folding his arms across his chest. "So start talking."

"We can’t allow this to happen," Damian said firmly, stepping closer to the throne.