Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate
Chapter 80: Short, Long Break Needed...

Chapter 80: Short, Long Break Needed...

The night felt endless and tiring as Evelina, Damian, and Jasper laboured in their makeshift lab. The flickering lanterns created moving shadows around the room, their warm light showing the weariness on each of their faces.

The table was cluttered with vials, jars, and notes scribbled in Eve’s handwriting.

Eve leaned over the latest sample, her fingers trembling slightly as she added a few drops of reagent to a vial. The greenish liquid swirled before settling into a darker hue.

She frowned, her tired mind struggling to process the result.

"It’s definitely mistletoe," she said aloud, her voice hoarse from hours of speaking in low tones. "That much is clear. But it’s not just mistletoe... there’s something else. Something enhancing its toxicity."

Jasper yawned dramatically from his corner of the room and slumped over a pile of books he had retrieved from the palace library. "You’d think the great alchemists of yore would’ve left us more than vague theories and poetic ramblings," he said, flipping through another page. "No offence, but mistletoe? Seems a bit cliché, doesn’t it?"

"It’s effective," Damian muttered from across the room, his eyes scanning one of the books Jasper had brought.

"It’s highly toxic to werewolves. But you’re right—it doesn’t cause a reaction of this extent. It’s obviously been modified somehow. Whatever this other element is, it’s complicating everything."

Evelina nodded distractedly, her focus locked on the vials before her.

She adjusted a burner, then reached for a beaker containing a flammable spirit. Her eyelids were heavy, and her movements sluggish as she poured, not noticing the liquid nearing the brim.

Relia’s voice crackled in her mind. "Evie, you’re about to—"

"WHOOSH!

A sudden rush of air broke the quiet concentration as the spirit lit up, a small flame flickering up the side of the beaker. Evelina gasped and stumbled back, panic jolting her fully awake.

"Fire!" Jasper shouted, already springing into action.

He quickly took a cloth and put out the fire before it could spread. The room became quiet, except for the soft crackling of the burning cloth.

Damian was at Evelina’s side instantly, his hands gripping her shoulders firmly. "Are you hurt?" he demanded, his silver eyes scanning her for any sign of injury.

"I-I’m fine," Evelina stammered, her pulse racing. She glanced at the scorched beaker, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention..."

"You’re exhausted," Damian said firmly. "We all are. This isn’t safe."

Jasper let out a dramatic sigh, tossing the burnt cloth aside. "I agree with His Highness, he’s right. If we keep going like this, we’re going to blow something up—or worse."

Evelina wanted to protest but paused when she saw Damian’s face. He looked tired, with deep lines marking his skin and his sharp eyes lacking their usual brightness.

Jasper also appeared worn out, his typical sense of humour muted by their circumstances.

"We need a break," Damian said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You need to eat, bathe, and rest. We’ll return to this when we’re not running on fumes."

Evelina hesitated, the drive to keep going warring with the logical part of her mind.

"You should listen to him. Except you want to receive accolades for this posthumously."

Rolling her eyes in her head, she replied to Damian with a nod. "Alright. But just a short break. We can’t afford to lose too much time."

"Short break," Jasper agreed, giving her a lopsided grin. "Long enough for you to stop setting things on fire, milady; but short enough to keep your genius intact."

Evelina managed a small smile, grateful for the levity.

Damian helped her out of the room, keeping a steady hand on her back. As they walked away, she took one last look at the messy lab, feeling her determination grow stronger despite her uncertainty.

They would figure this out. Together.

*************

Evelina soaked in the warm bath in her chambers, the water soothing her aching muscles and the tension in her mind. Her thoughts churned as she leaned against the tub, staring at the ceiling.

The lingering heat of the fire and Damian’s worried face played repeatedly in her mind.

"Feeling reflective, are we?" Relia’s voice broke through her thoughts, tinged with a teasing edge.

"Not now," Evelina replied aloud.

"Now is the perfect time," Relia countered. "You’ve been running on fumes, nearly torched yourself, and there’s a poisoned well to solve. Talk to me, Evie. What’s eating at you?"

Evelina sighed. "Who wouldn’t be eaten up right now? There’s too much going on. The poison... the mole near the woods... and this entire mess feels like it’s tied to whoever tried to kill Damian. But how? Why?"

"Connected dots are a wolf’s specialty," Relia said thoughtfully. "It does seem too calculated to be random. But how does that help us now?"

Evelina closed her eyes, the memories of the shadowy figure meeting with the rogue replaying vividly. "If this is related to the poisoner or the mole, it means they’ve planned this for a while. But what’s the goal? And why risk a full-scale outbreak in the kingdom?"

"To weaken us," Relia growled. "And, by extension, you."

Evelina’s chest tightened at the implication, but she didn’t let it take root. "Then we find them," she said resolutely. "Before it’s too late."

"That’s good.I’dprefernot tospendmydaysavoidingdeaththreatsorbeingstuck inadungeonor, evenworse, dying," Relia joked, though her tone had a rare hint of encouragement.

Once Eve had bathed and dressed in fresh clothing, she felt slightly more human—or wolf—again. By the time she met Damian and Jasper for breakfast, her mind was clearer, though a lingering weight pressed at her.

The three of them sat at a small table in one of the quieter palace dining rooms. Plates of bread, eggs, and fruit were laid out before them, though no one ate with much enthusiasm.

Damian spoke first in a grave tone. "The morning report hasn’t come in yet, but I’ve already heard from one of the night guards. There have been fatalities. Five as of dawn."

Evelina’s hand froze halfway to her mouth, her appetite vanishing. "Five?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.