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

The fortress courtyard had grown colder after the audience ended and the tea room was deserted.

Not just in temperature—but in the space she left behind.

Mingyu stood on the upper steps of the southern gallery, watching the last traces of her white fur cloak vanish behind the inner gates. She didn't look back as Shadow padded behind her, followed closely by Shi Yaozu. Mingyu wasn't blind to the glares his shadow guard had sent toward the Crown Prince of Baiguang during the exchange.

That look had turned lethal when Li Xuejian had called Xinying a monster.

When Xinying was finally out of sight, Mingyu turned around and faced the rival nation's Crown Prince.

Li Xuejian had remained by the stone table, his fingertips still brushing the rim of the teacup he'd left behind. He didn't seem concerned by the visible guards above or the invisible ones he had to have known were still in the room.

While Mingyu hadn't been there for the actual discussion itself, that was between Xinying, the Empress, and Li Xuejian, the other man seemed to be waiting for Mingyu to do or say something…

And that made Mingyu dislike him even more.

He descended slowly, not bothering to call for an escort. No one stopped him. No one needed to. All the guards in the palace recognized him by his gait alone—and knew better than to intervene when the Central Crown Prince moved with that particular expression.

They knew heads were going to roll, and all they could do was hope that they were not the ones in the line of fire when he finally snapped.

When Mingyu stopped before the man from Baiguang, the wind shifted again—sharp, dry, and cutting through the stone like knives. But the other prince didn't shiver. He just looked up and tilted his head, curious.

"You're braver than I expected," Mingyu said quietly. "Or more foolish."

Li Xuejian gave a faint smile. "Those lines blur easily in war."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Then Mingyu broke it. "What did you mean when you called her 'the widow who didn't weep'?"

The other prince blinked once, as though the question had surprised him.

Then his smile curved wider—not mocking, not cruel. Just... amused.

"Is that what you took issue with?" Xuejian asked. "Out of everything I said?"

Mingyu didn't flinch. "Answer the question."

Xuejian looked at the cup again, then gestured to the seat Xinying had occupied. "She left the tea salted. Will you?"

"I'm not here to drink."

"No," Xuejian said, "you're here to growl and mark your territory. Tell me, Crown Prince Mingyu, will you piss on her just to make sure that no other man claims her?"

Mingyu's expression didn't change at all over Xuejian's provocation, but he didn't sit either. "The title. Explain it."

The Crown Prince's gaze turned thoughtful. Then, as though it were the simplest thing in the world, he said:

"She is a woman alone in the mountains. Depending on which stories you believe, she's either so hideous she turns grown men to tears—or so beautiful they go mad looking at her. There is no middle ground."

Mingyu's jaw tightened.

Xuejian continued, undisturbed. "And yet, she's alone. For eleven years, completely untouched. No suitors. No consorts. No courtship. Not even a scandal. Do you know how hard that is to fake in a kingdom this hungry for gossip?"

"So you assumed that she was mourning?"

Xuejian's smile turned lopsided. "Tell me, Crown Prince—who's foolish enough to leave a beautiful woman alone on a mountain for over a decade?"

Mingyu's voice dropped low. "You are making a mistake."

"No. I'm making an observation," Xuejian said simply. "The only explanation that makes sense—at least to those of us who weren't raised with her—is that she's a widow. One who refused to mourn her husband with tears, but instead claimed the entire mountain as a tomb."

The silence between them thickened.

The Baiguang prince let the wind speak for a moment before looking up again.

"But I'm wrong, aren't I?" he said, voice just a little too calm. "Because now I've met the man she walks beside."

Mingyu's stare sharpened. "She has a husband," he said clearly. "One who's already proven just how far he's willing to go for her."

Li Xuejian didn't react. He just watched the other man with a faint smile on his face.

"She isn't a widow," Mingyu said. "She's never been a widow. And she never will be."

Still, no reply.

So Mingyu stepped forward—one pace closer. "I see how you look at her."

That finally made something shift in the other prince's expression.

"You wear it poorly," Mingyu said. "That interest. That curiosity. You try to hide it with diplomatic lines and subtle glances, but I know that look."

"And what look is that?"

"The look of a man who forgot himself."

A pause.

Xuejian tilted his head again. "And you?"

"I don't forget," Mingyu said. "I remember everything."

The Baiguang Crown Prince studied him now—not like an enemy, but like an equation. The kind that didn't balance the way it should.

"I heard she wasn't yours," he said softly. "That she belonged to the mountains first."

"She still does," Mingyu answered. "But she chose me. And I'll never forget what that means."

Xuejian nodded, almost respectfully. "That's almost admirable."

"No. That's final."

The wind cut between them again.

Behind the high walls, no birds called. No bells rang. The entire fortress had gone still, as if listening.

Li Xuejian looked away first. Not down. Just sideways. Toward the faint path of frost that still marked where her mist had gathered earlier.

"I don't think I'll ever understand her," he admitted.

"No," Mingyu said. "You won't."

"She's not what I imagined."

"She rarely is."

Xuejian let out a breath—half-laugh, half-thought.

"I wanted to see her edge," he murmured. "The stories don't do it justice."

Mingyu watched him a moment longer, then took a step back.

"You'll stay here under our watch for the next three days," he said. "You'll be questioned. Closely. Politely."

Xuejian's eyes returned to him. "And what happens if I say the wrong thing?"

"Then I'll be the one to bury you," Mingyu said, voice level. "And she won't even need to raise a hand."

The words hung there, heavy.

But there was no threat in them. Only truth.

Xuejian nodded slowly. "Understood."

Mingyu turned and began walking away.

He didn't look back when the other prince finally muttered, "She makes it hard not to look."

Mingyu didn't stop walking, he simply replied with a single sentence. "She won't be looking back."