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

Chapter 148: The Unplanned Banquet



The summons came at dawn, before the incense in the courtyard had finished burning. A eunuch in blue and silver bowed low and handed me a scroll with trembling fingers. I didn't need to open it to know what it said. The Crown Prince and I were expected at the Hall of Ascending Fragrance before dusk. An evening banquet. Another performance. Another mask.

All in honor of a woman I had never met.

The Crown Princess of Baiguang had arrived.

They said she came with gifts and silk, but I doubted she arrived empty-handed. No one crossed borders for diplomacy alone—not when the throne sat unsteady and the Emperor's shadow was beginning to flicker.

I dressed plainly, or at least as plainly as I could without raising eyebrows. As per protocol, I had on three layers, with the last one being a green robe with silver embroidery on the sleeves. I wasn't adorned in silk; my makeup was subtle. I wound my hair into a single coil at the base of my neck and slipped in the cherry blossom pin Deming had sent. Subtle. Sentimental. I wasn't sure which part of me it was meant to appease.

Maybe it was because the ribbon was ripped last night by the assassin.

Zhu Mingyu was waiting outside the eastern wing when I stepped through the gates. His robes were white and gold, every line precise, his face unreadable. He wore composure the way soldiers wore armor—tight across the chest, beautiful from a distance, but heavy beneath the skin.

"You're quiet," I said, falling into step beside him. Neither one of us had had that much sleep, if any, since last night, but I had to say… he wore tired well.

"I have nothing worth saying," he grunted, the lines around his mouth tightening. There was no bitterness in his tone. Just exhaustion. Resignation, maybe. I didn't ask what weighed on him. We both knew. It hadn't been twenty-four hours since someone tried to cut his throat while he slept, and here he was, dressed for dinner.

We crossed the stone bridge in silence. Peonies had started to bloom by the reflecting pool. A few petals floated along the surface like fallen thoughts. I almost envied them—their softness, their lack of obligation.

The Hall of Ascending Fragrance sat like a crown at the palace's western edge. Tall pillars. Twin ponds. Golden lions with marble eyes. Inside, the air was thick with incense and false calm. Courtiers drifted through the hall like petals in a storm—colorful, aimless, waiting to land.

A steward met us at the top of the steps and bowed so low his forehead nearly kissed the floor. I nodded once and followed him into the hall.

And there she was.

The Crown Princess of Baiguang.

Standing beside the Empress's dais like she'd been born there. Like she belonged.

She was beautiful, yes, but not in a way that invited. Not the kind of beauty that drew you to them. She was the kind that held her chin high, the kind carved into coins and painted into legends. Regal. Still. As cold and flawless as frost on a blade.

Her robe shimmered pale gold, threaded with silver so fine it caught the light and refused to let it go. A phoenix hairpiece arched across her head, jeweled wings curving like flames. Even the way she bowed seemed rehearsed.

"Your Highness," she said to Mingyu, voice like velvet over steel. "It is an honor to finally meet you."

He returned the gesture, just enough to be polite. "Baiguang honors us with your presence. I regret that our first meeting is marred by recent… unpleasantness."

"Unpleasantness fades," she replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But alliances endure."

She hadn't looked at me once. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. I watched her closely, studying the tilt of her chin, the calculation in her silence. She was younger than I expected—perhaps my age, perhaps younger—but every gesture, every breath, was sharpened into performance.

And I knew a performance when I saw one.

We were led to our seats—Mingyu and I at the center, just below the Empress's gaze. The Princess remained standing until the first course was announced, then sat with the grace of someone who had never once needed permission to be in the room.

The music began—flutes and zithers, soft and shallow. Dancers glided like ghosts in snow-colored robes. Food arrived in waves: duck glazed with honey, sweet rice buns filled with ginger paste, lotus-wrapped fish still steaming from the kitchen fires.

I sipped my wine and let the flavor roll over my tongue. Plum and heat. It tasted like patience. Like waiting.

Across the table, the Princess laughed at something Consort Mei whispered. Her lashes dipped low over her cheeks, the perfect imitation of modesty. But her eyes always returned to Mingyu.

Not once did she look at me. Not directly. But I could feel her awareness like a blade at my throat.

They were watching him. All of them.

Not because they cared that he lived.

But because they were wondering what his survival meant.

I leaned slightly toward him and murmured, "They're not here to celebrate your safety. They want to see how well you bleed."

His fingers tightened around his cup. "It wouldn't be the first time," he grunted softly. "I know exactly what they are looking for. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

I didn't ask what he planned to do with that knowledge. He was the Crown Prince. Survival was a burden, not a reward.

I was just beginning to wonder if he truly understood the way the Crown Princess was looking at him.

The Princess of Baiguang rose like a dancer. Her cup was lifted with elegant precision, sleeves falling like silk waterfalls from her arms. She raised it toward the Empress and spoke with that same gentle voice, every word deliberate.

"To peace between our nations," she said. "And to the strength of our future Emperor."

Future Emperor.

Not His Highness. Not the Crown Prince.

Not even the Dragon of the East.

Just Emperor.

As if it were already written. As if her words alone sealed the outcome.

I didn't lift my cup. I didn't move at all.

I felt Mingyu stiffen, even as the Emperor walked into the room, his presence unknown until just that moment.

"Why don't I know about the future Emperor?" he purred, walking over to the Empress. My mother-in-law rose to her feet and bowed her head, letting him take her seat.

"I am wondering the same thing, Imperial Father," said Mingyu, his head held high as he rose to his feet. "As far as I know, we only have one Emperor, and he is destined to reign for the next thousand years."


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