The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis

The Crown Prince's study always smelled like ink and something older—something brittle. Maybe it was the old paper, maybe it was the history he tried so hard to wear like armor. Either way, it gave me a pounding headache.

I sat across from him, on the other side of the table with a half-unrolled map between us and a sealed scroll pressed flat between two lacquered stones. Zhu Mingyu watched me from behind his desk, arms folded, jaw clenched just enough to betray his irritation. Not fear. Not yet.

But close.

"Here is the information you wanted," I started, "These are the main trade arteries," I continued, pointing at a thin red line that curved around the southern provinces. "This one used to belong to your uncle's faction, but it's bleeding out now. Yan Luo says two of the governors are planning to defect if they don't get food relief before the next rain."

Mingyu made a small noise in his throat. I didn't bother looking up.

"He gave you all this?" he asked finally. "Freely?"

I hummed, my fingers trailing over the map. "Let's not pretend he does anything for free. He just thinks long-term, and you made sure that Yaozu delivered your request. Whether he mentioned my name or not has yet to be seen."

His gaze sharpened. "And what did you give him in return? If Shi Yaozu did get this information in your name."

I looked up slowly, my eyes scanning his face. He didn't blink, didn't so much as shift in his chair.

"Don't be stupid," I sneered, lifting the edge of the map and folding it without breaking eye contact. "And don't ask questions you don't want the answer to."

His mouth twitched. Not with amusement. Not with anything human. "I think I have a right to know what kind of favors you're offering on behalf of the Crown."

I scoffed, standing to my feet and brushing dust off my skirt. "You're acting like I whored myself out to Yan Luo. Don't forget, meeting him was part of your plan. Getting this information was important to you. It seems like we are only partners when it's convenient for you. Don't confuse necessity with loyalty. I didn't do him any favors on behalf of the Crown. We both knew what we agreed upon."

"Xinying," he said, tone warning.

"No," I said flatly, cutting him off. "You want to play emperor? Fine. But I'm not your pawn. I don't owe you honesty, courtesy, or explanation—not when I'm the one bleeding for your throne."

His hand tightened on the armrest. "Did you kill someone?"

I paused mid-step, tilting my head toward him.

"Those," I said quietly, "would be the kind of questions you don't want answered."

He stood too quickly, knocking aside the lacquered brush holder on the edge of his desk. It clattered to the floor, scrolls and papers scattering like startled birds.

"I am trying to protect this empire," he snapped. "If there are threats—"

"There are always threats," I interrupted. "And most of them sit in rooms like this, pretending their title will protect them when the knives come out."

His breath came hard. But he didn't speak again.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to breathe. The jade fox seal still sat in my sleeve, warm against my skin. Not yet. I wouldn't call him yet.

"Let's move on, yeah?" I sighed after a moment, reining in my temper. "You've got half the court whispering behind your back and the south ready to revolt. I've got a friend to meet—and a very real question to answer."

He narrowed his eyes. "What question?"

"How many of us there are," I replied.

That got his attention.

I walked back to the table and pulled a second scroll from my sleeve, this one folded differently, sealed with wax that had been crushed hastily—like someone didn't want it to exist in the first place.

"This," I said, setting it down in front of him, "is what should worry you."

He opened it with a flick of his fingers, skimming the top line before his shoulders stiffened.

"Baiguang?" he said. "What does this have to do with—"

"She's knows too much," I said. "She controls the North regardless of what the King or the Crown Prince believes. She is the true threat to every nation on the continent, and she is just getting started."

He looked up sharply.

I didn't explain further. Not yet. Not until I was sure.

"She appeared out of nowhere five years ago," I said instead. "No noble house, no political marriage, no record. And in that time, she's turned the north into a province the people believe in. She knows things before they happen. She builds what should take years in a matter of months. She orders quarantines before plagues break out. They're calling her a goddess. A savior."

"A weapon… just like you," he whispered, eyes flicking over the scroll again.

"More or less," I agreed. I didn't believe that she was like me. I didn't think she was part demon. Everything that she did was like a master playing chess. I was more like a wreaking ball punching through whatever stood in my way.

I crossed my arms. "She might be harmless. She might believe she's saving the world. Or she might be exactly what the Emperor needs to unite the other kingdoms against Daiyu."

He muttered a curse under his breath.

"I need to meet her," I said. "Before someone else does."

Mingyu's hands curled into fists. "Do you think she's a threat?"

"I think she believes she's the protagonist," I replied. "And that makes her dangerous."

I turned away before he could respond, striding toward the far shelves to retrieve the rest of the files Yan Luo had passed along. The Crown Prince's study was too stiff for real thought—too polished, too sharp-edged. The kind of room meant to impress, not command. He would have to grow into it.

"I'm leaving at first light," I said. "I won't bring an escort."

He hesitated. "Take Yaozu."

"He's was already a given. He doesn't leave my side, remember?"

A beat passed.

"I trust him," I added, quieter this time.

Mingyu didn't argue. Perhaps because he knew it wouldn't work. Or maybe because he was starting to see the lines of this game for what they were—not a court drama, not a military conquest. Not even a war.

This was survival.

This was fate, rewritten in blood and shadow.

When I reached the door, I paused, fingers resting on the lacquered frame.

"For what it's worth," I said, without looking back, "I'm not trying to burn the empire."

I heard him shift behind me.

"I just want to make sure it doesn't burn me first."

And with that, I stepped into the hall, the fox seal still warm in my sleeve, and the north already calling.