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

The candles had burned halfway down their stems, leaving the room cloaked in a soft golden hush. Outside the wind shifted, carrying the faint sounds of music from another courtyard—plucked strings, delicate laughter, the clink of wine cups. It was easy to forget we were at war.

But we were... and it wasn't a war that I was comfortable fighting.

I was facing an army of women, each wearing powder like armor and wielding smiles like blades, and each one trained since birth to dominate the inner courtyard. I was completely out of my depth. I felt like since I had arrived in the Capital a few month ago, I have just been reacting, not knowing when the next strike was coming.

And now, I was tired of it.

Shi Yaozu closed the door behind him and set a stack of scrolls on the low table. "Fifteen more names," he said. "All confirmed. The rest are either too new to place or too smart to be obvious."

I didn't look up from the list in front of me. "How many in total now?"

"Thirty-three."

"More women than weapons in the guardhouse," I muttered.

He smiled faintly but didn't argue.

I set the brush down and exhaled slowly. The list was long, the ink still wet, and none of these names had been chosen by the Crown Prince.

Minister's daughters. Nieces. Cousins. Political pawns with pretty faces and sharper tongues. Each one sent here not for affection, but leverage.

"Tell me about this one," I said, tapping a name halfway down. "Yu Meixiu."

"She's from the Yu family in the west. Niece of Minister Yu, head of provincial roads. Quiet so far. Keeps to herself. But two of the girls who follow Lady Yuan sleep in her wing."

I nodded slowly. "So she's observing."

"For now."

I moved to the next. "An Lin."

"From the Lin estate near the coastal border. Her father controls trade tariffs. She came with six trunks and a maid trained in poisons."

"So, she's been in the house for a full day and already on the 'fuck around and find out' list," I sighed pinching the bridge of my nose as if that would stop the impending headache.

"Yes."

I paused. "And what do we know about her?"

"Enough."

"Not enough for me," I said. "Knowledge is power, Yaozu. If I don't know their families, their weaknesses, their ambitions, I can't control them."

"You're not supposed to control them," he said quietly. "You're supposed to outrank them."

I leaned back. "That only works if they believe the ranks matter."

He looked at me for a long time, then nodded. "I'll call in Yan Luo."

I raised an eyebrow. "That serious?"

"They're using their fathers' names as weapons," he said. "It's only fair we sharpen ours."

"Good." I picked up another scroll and unrolled it slowly. "I don't want any surprises. If they so much as whisper across courtyards, I want to know what the wind carried."

"I'll handle it," he said. "But not tonight."

I frowned. "Why not?"

"Because you haven't slept."

"I don't need—"

"You do," he said firmly, cutting me off for the first time in hours. "You've been pushing through this house like you're still on the battlefield. But this isn't a war you can win in a night."

I hesitated, then let the scroll fall closed. "I don't like feeling like I'm behind."

"You're not behind. You're ahead, and that's why they hate you."

He reached for the papers and set them aside with deliberate care, like he knew I'd resist if he wasn't gentle about it.

"We'll finish tomorrow."

I didn't argue. I let him pull me up from the cushions and walk me toward the bedchamber. The night air through the open windows was cool, but not cold. There were no echoes of weapons here, no screams or drums or blood-soaked sand.

Just moonlight on silk and the faint creak of wood as he lowered beside me.

His arm came around my waist. "Sleep."

"I'm still thinking about—"

"Sleep," he repeated, voice low against my hair.

I let the silence wrap around us, just for a moment.

And then I let go.

-----

By morning, the manor's tempo had changed yet again. It was a good thing that Papa had trained me never to get into a routine or be compliant, because if I needed things to be the same, I would have gone bat shit crazy by now.

I knew something was in the works it the moment the servant arrived with my breakfast.

She knocked once before entering. A girl I didn't recognize—too new, too young, with a braid still wet from washing. She carried a breakfast tray with exaggerated care and a slight smile she tried to swallow.

"Your breakfast, my lady," she said.

I sat up slowly, glancing toward the covered dishes. "Who sent it?"

"From the kitchens," she said quickly. "As usual."

That was a lie.

Nothing about this was usual. The tray was too ornate, the dishes polished too clean. A single orchid bloom decorated the rice bowl.

I said nothing as she set the tray down and stepped back, eyes lowered.

But Shi Yaozu moved before I could reach for the tea.

He plucked the lid off the congee and leaned in, nostrils flaring slightly.

Then he set it down without a word and lifted the teacup next.

A sniff. A small frown. A longer look at the petals floating inside.

"She smiled when she brought it," I said quietly.

He looked up. "You noticed."

"She's new. Too bold. And the tray's wrong."

He didn't argue.

Instead, he opened the final dish.

And froze.

"What is it?"

"Fish," he said. "Three kinds. In lotus broth. But the scales are peeled backward."

I blinked. "Which means?"

"Which means someone in the kitchen wants you to choke."

I couldn't help the bark of laughter that emerged from my throat at his words.

I was never one to choke on anything.

I reached for the teacup and dipped my finger in. The scent of jasmine was overpowering, masking something more bitter underneath.

"Do we know who's working in the kitchens this week?"

"I do."

"Then let's make sure they know I'm not a fool," I said, standing. "And neither are you."

He caught my wrist gently.

"You should eat something else."

I looked down at the tray once more.

"No," I said. "I've lost my appetite."