Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate
Chapter 26: Wine Cellar...

Chapter 26: Wine Cellar...

Marianne’s trembling figure lingered in Evelina’s mind as they left the kitchen, her evasive answers raising more questions than they solved.

Her jaw was tight, her fingers gripping the stem of the goblet as though it might slip away and take the truth with it.

Damian’s voice broke the tense silence. "If she didn’t prepare it, someone else did. We’re not leaving this unanswered."

Evelina nodded, her thoughts racing. "The wine. The poison had to have been introduced before it was poured into the goblet. That means the wine itself—or whoever poured it—is the next piece."

Damian glanced at her. "The wine cellar. That’s where we go next."

The descent into the palace wine cellar was quiet except for the sound of their footsteps. The air was cool and smelled faintly of old wine and damp stone. Shelves filled with neatly labeled bottles stretched into the shadows.

A nervous servant stood near the entrance, his posture stiff under Damian’s scrutinizing gaze. He wrung his hands together as they approached, his eyes darting nervously between the prince and Evelina.

"You poured the wine that night," Damian said sharply without preamble. "Tell us everything."

The servant gulped audibly. "Y-yes, Your Highness. I selected the bottle and poured the wine for the goblets, just as instructed."

"And the bottle?" Evelina interjected, stepping closer. "Where is it now?"

The servant hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. "It’s... it’s gone, milady."

"Gone?" Damian’s voice was low and dangerous. "Explain."

The servant flinched at the sharpness in Damian’s tone. "I—I don’t know what happened. I returned the other bottles to their place after the banquet, but that one... It’s missing."

Evelina’s eyes narrowed. "Who else has access to this cellar?"

The servant hesitated again, clearly afraid of saying the wrong thing. "Only the steward and a few trusted staff, milady. And... and the occasional visitor escorted by the steward."

Damian’s gaze darkened. "When did you notice it was missing?"

The servant looked down. "The morning after the banquet, Your Highness. I didn’t think much of it at first, but when the poisoning was discovered, I... I thought it might be important."

"And you didn’t report it?" Damian snapped.

"I—I didn’t know if it was related!" the servant stammered. "I didn’t want to cause trouble if it was just misplaced."

Evelina felt her frustration rising. She placed the goblet on a nearby table, her fingers tracing its rim. "This isn’t just about carelessness. Someone is covering their tracks."

Damian’s jaw tightened. "Do you remember who instructed you to pour the wine that night?"

The servant shook his head, his expression genuinely confused. "I only followed the usual procedure, Your Highness. I wasn’t given any special instructions."

Evelina’s gaze lingered on the servant for a moment longer before shifting to the rows of wine bottles surrounding them. "Which bottles did you use for the prince’s goblet?"

The servant gestured toward a section of the shelves. "From there, milady. That’s the selection reserved for royal banquets."

Evelina and Damian walked over to the indicated area, their eyes scanning the well-arranged bottles. Evelina’s fingers brushed against one of the labels, the neat handwriting detailing its vintage and origin.

Her frustration deepened as she realized how little the bottles revealed.

Damian turned to the servant. "Bring the steward here first thing in the morning. No excuses."

The servant bowed quickly. "Yes, Your Highness."

As they climbed up from the cellar, the tension between Evelina and Damian was intense, with Evelina holding the goblet tightly.

Damian glanced at her as they reached the main hall. "It’s late. We’ll pick this up tomorrow."

Evelina shook her head. "What if the trail goes cold? Whoever’s behind this has already had days to cover their tracks."

"And we’re not going to solve this by pushing until we collapse," Damian countered. "You’ve been through enough today."

Evelina huffed but didn’t argue further. Her exhaustion was beginning to catch up to her, her limbs heavy as they walked toward the chambers section.

As they reached the corridor leading to their rooms, Evelina exhaled. "Thank you for your concern, Your Highness, but I’m going to my room now."

Damian halted mid-step, turning to face her with a raised brow. "No, you’re not."

Evelina blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I’m not permitting you to sleep alone tonight," Damian said flatly, his silver eyes sparkling with authority. "Not after everything that happened today."

Evelina placed her hands on her hips and spoke with a sarcastic tone. "Oh, really? And where, pray tell, am I supposed to sleep?"

"With me, obviously," Damian replied nonchalantly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Her lips curled into a smirk, a glint of challenge flashing in her eyes. "Oh, how generous of you. Sharing your bed with a lady who’s not your fiancée? What would Lady Selene say?"

Damian’s expression didn’t waver, but his tone turned teasing. "You think this is about you? It’s about me protecting my sanity—knowing you aren’t looking for the next fire to jump into—and protecting you from yourself. But if Selene’s opinion concerns you so much, perhaps it’s you who can’t resist temptation."

Evelina let out a short laugh, stepping closer as she tilted her head. "Temptation? Don’t flatter yourself, Damian. I’m worried about you losing control. Your royal self might not be able to handle the proximity."

Damian chuckled. "Me? Admit it, Evelina. You’re worried you won’t be able to hold yourself back. Maybe jump on me in my sleep? Or..." He leaned slightly closer, a teasing edge in his voice. "...you’re plotting your next reckless escapade, and you need me out of the way."

Evelina’s smirk didn’t falter. "Oh, please. You’re the one who’s going to struggle, Damian. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me earlier." Her saccharine tone dripped with mockery. "Not very princely of you."

Damian’s silver eyes gleamed, his smirk widening into a slow, wolfish grin. "Is that supposed to be a challenge?"

Evelina crossed her arms, meeting his gaze head-on. "If it has to be."

"Fine," Damian said, stepping aside and gesturing toward his chambers. "Let’s see who breaks first."

Evelina brushed past him with exaggerated grace, her smirk widening. "You’re going to regret this."

Damian followed, muttering under his breath, "We’ll see who regrets it."