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

Yaozu was already waiting when I returned to the Crown Prince's manor.

He stood just inside the study's side door, where the light was softest and the shadows bent around his frame like memory. He didn't announce himself, didn't speak. He just held out a folded letter, sealed in gray wax.

I took it without a word.

The wax was old, faintly cracked. No insignia. Just a single pressed thumbprint.

Recognition flickered in my chest, but I didn't know for sure where I recognized the seal from. "Where did it come from?" I asked, my brows furrowed as I tried to figure out exactly what I was missing.

"It was hand delivered," he replied, his back straight as he stared off into the distance. This was clearly his 'work mode'. "A woman in servant robes. She vanished before the outer guards noticed."

"Is she one of yours?" I asked confused as I continued to turn over the message.

"No," he replied with a shake of his head. "She is one of the very few of us that was actually able to retire from old age. She was one of Commander Jian's old cohorts."

I ran my thumb along the edge of the seal. The name wasn't one I heard often. Jian had once led the northern Shadow division—before Yaozu took his place. Before the Crown Prince made me his. In fact, he was more myth than truth, but I knew better than to believe everything that I had heard about him. Not that I had heard much.

He was loyal, but not sentimental. If he'd sent a letter, it meant one thing.

I broke the seal and read.

The words were short. Direct. Meant for someone who understood what wasn't said.

Unrest in Yelan. Market towns too quiet. Spies aren't returning. Third battalion hasn't written in six days.

Too clean.

Too early.

Come see for yourself.

I read it twice.

Then a third time.

I handed it to Yaozu, to see if he understood what was going on. He read it in silence, and when he finished, he folded the paper once more and tucked it into his sleeve.

"Do you think it's real?" he asked.

I didn't answer right away. I stepped past him, into the main chamber of the strategy hall. The fire in the corner hearth had gone low, the coals still breathing under ash.

A new map had been pinned to the northern wall. I crossed to it and placed two fingers over the line that separated Daiyu from the edge of Yelan's territory.

"I'm going to assume that Commander Jian doesn't write unless it's already too late," I said. "Something's moving out there."

"Baiguang?" Yaozu asked.

"No. Baiguang wouldn't use silence. This feels different. Like something's waiting to see if we're watching."

He stepped beside me. Close enough that I felt the warmth of him under his cloak, the quiet steadiness of someone built for the long game.

"You think it's a third force?"

"I think it's a mistake to guess from here."

He didn't argue.

I turned away from the map and pulled on my outer coat. Black again. Heavy with reinforcement stitching beneath the sleeves. My gloves were still damp from the morning frost, but I shoved them on anyway.

"Have Shadow's pack prepared," I said.

Yaozu tilted his head slightly. "You're going yourself."

"Yes."

"And if Mingyu objects?"

"He won't. Not out loud. We all know that even if he did, I wouldn't listen."

Yaozu's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. Just a ghost of understanding.

"I'll pack light," he said.

We moved through the outer corridor quickly. The guards didn't stop us. Most of them had learned better by now.

As we passed the western arch, I heard one whisper behind us. Just a hiss of breath. Something like:

"She's going out again."

I didn't slow.

Let them whisper.

The ones who feared me would stay out of the way. The ones who didn't would learn to regret it.

The path to the stables curved wide past the edge of the training yard. Fresh footprints dotted the frost there—heavier than usual. Soldiers preparing for movement. Drills shifting south.

Yaozu scanned the ground as we walked. "Longzi's men are already loading carts."

"Good. That means Mingyu is two steps ahead of the court."

"And we're one step ahead of him?"

I looked sideways at him.

"Always."

We reached the stables just as the last torch was being lit. Shadow was already there, curled beside my saddlebag like he'd been born in this lifetime to guard it.

He lifted his head at the sound of my boots and stood, stretching once. No leash. No sound. Just instinct.

I didn't hesitate.

I walked straight to the saddle and slung it over my shoulder, the leather cold against my back.

"Which direction?" Yaozu asked.

"Southwest first. If Jian's letter is correct, the gap between patrols is thin enough to ride without being seen."

He nodded.

I checked the blade hidden beneath my outer layer, then tested the weight of the saddlebag once more.

"Be ready in an hour," I said.

"I will."

I started to move, then paused.

"Leave word with the Empress," I said. "Tell her I'm checking on the ash before it spreads."

"I assume that she'll understand."

"She always does."

Yaozu turned toward his own gear without question.

I ran a hand down Shadow's flank, feeling the muscle tense beneath thick fur.

The palace air had grown too clean lately. Too quiet. We'd culled the traitors and silenced the ministers—but that stillness wasn't peace. It was pause. A breath before the next swing.

I didn't want the Empire to gasp again when the next enemy rose.

I wanted to see them first.

I walked Shadow to the edge of the courtyard and whistled once, sharp and short.

The horse was already saddled. Black mane. Cold eyes. Mine.

Behind me, I heard Yaozu speaking low to one of the supply officers, instructing for dried meat, cloaks, extra bandages, and clean steel. All of it packed tight, strapped down, and ready to move.

His voice was calm, quiet, perfectly unbothered—as if preparing for a short patrol rather than stepping into the unknown.

I mounted without a sound.

The saddle creaked softly beneath me, leather shifting against my hip bone. The courtyard torchlight caught the glint of iron hidden in my gloves.

"Maps are in your satchel," Yaozu called up. "Three false trails marked. Four true ones."

I clicked my tongue, guiding the horse to turn. "And if we need a fifth?"

"We make it," he assured me. "There is no other choice."