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

The silk felt heavier than it should.

Not the embroidered weight of the robe itself, but the meaning woven into it. Every stitch, every thread, carried the word of what Daiyu would call me after today.

Empress.

It should have felt like a victory. Instead, I felt like a woman standing in the middle of a road, knowing the storm rolling toward her wasn't going to slow down just because she was wearing gold.

The months since Baiguang's fall had been… busy, if I wanted to lie about it. Exhausting, if I didn't.

Mingyu and the ministers had played their games… cutting roads, tightening supply lines, making sure the "royal" prisoners stayed quiet in their gilded cage. I stayed out of it for the most part. I didn't want more war. I didn't want to have to be war. But every now and then, something would shift in the air, and I'd be dragged in before someone made a decision I'd have to clean up later.

Today was supposed to be different. Today was supposed to be the start of the part of my life I had been fighting toward — the part where I could finally exhale.

And then, because the gods clearly hated me, Lady Yuan decided to bring her family into the capital to celebrate Mingyu becoming the Emperor.

The palace bells rang differently when trouble was at the gate. Not the high, bright chime of festival, not the measured tone of an imperial announcement. This was deeper. Heavier. You could feel it in your chest if you stood still long enough. I heard it the moment I stepped onto the balcony outside my dressing chamber, the winter air sharp in my lungs.

Yaozu was there before I could even ask. "It's the Yuan family," he said, calm as if announcing the weather. "General Yuan, his son, and their army. Imperial Consort Mei and Lady Yuan went to the gates and invited them into the capital themselves."

I stared at him. "They brought everyone?"

Yaozu's mouth twitched, not in amusement. "Apparently, rebellion is a family affair."

I didn't need to ask why they were here. The coronation of both myself and Mingyu meant that everyone's eyes were on us. There was a type of permanence that meant no one else could lay claim to Mingyu's side without being laughed out of court.

I honestly thought that Lady Yuan had learned her lesson. I hadn't even thought about her in months since the last confrontation. Before I took out Baiguang. But apparently, Lady Yuan's ambitions had survived too many quiet humiliations to die politely.

Bringing an army to the capital wasn't subtle, but then, subtlety was never her strength.

I pressed my fingers to my temples. "Does no one learn?"

"They think Mingyu will be forced to bargain," Yaozu said. "A whole army at the gates, threatening to turn the coronation into a bloodbath."

I snorted. "Then they've never paid attention to who he married."

By the time we reached the inner court, the ministers were already gathering like crows, black-robed and whispering. Mingyu stood at the head of the steps, his posture so still it looked carved.

Deming and Longzi flanked him like the edges of a blade while General Yuan was halfway up the main path, the soldiers behind him in rigid formation. Lady Yuan walked beside her father, her chin lifted, her expression set in that I am owed look she wore like perfume.

She was even wearing the same dress that I was.

Someone was going to die because of that.

I didn't bother with the stairs. I stepped down from the side, crossing the courtyard with measured strides until I was level with Mingyu. His hand brushed mine — not enough to hold, just enough to try and anchor me.

I didn't need the anchor, but I took it anyway.

"General Yuan," Mingyu called, his voice carrying without effort, "you've brought quite the entourage."

The general stopped three paces from the foot of the stairs, bowing just enough to avoid insult. "Your Majesty, I've brought my strength to support the empire."

"Support," Deming murmured under his breath, "is that what we are calling it now adays."

Lady Yuan smiled up at Mingyu, her voice syrup-sweet. "Surely you can't mean to crown her when my family has guarded the throne for generations."

And there it was. Not even dressed up in courtly language — just the bald insult laid at my feet.

Mingyu didn't answer her immediately. He glanced at me instead, a flicker of something like amusement in his eyes. Then he looked back at the general. "You think an army will change my mind?"

"A wise ruler," General Yuan said, loud enough for every listening ear, "does not make enemies of his most loyal soldiers. All you need to do is crown my daughter as your Empress, and you are more than welcome to take her as a concubine or consort."

He looked at me like I was dirt under his daughter's feet, but I didn't care.

Mingyu's smile was slow, almost lazy. "And you forget, General, that Xinying is an entire army."

I could feel the way the words landed. The ripple through the watching crowd. The way the general's jaw tightened just enough to betray him.

Mingyu didn't stop there. "And she is the only one I want to please. I will have no Empress if it is not Zhao Xinying. I will have no one else. Period."

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut your skin. Lady Yuan's fingers twitched at her side. Imperial Consort Mei's face went the pale, brittle white of porcelain about to crack.

I stepped forward then, just far enough that my shadow fell across the first step of the stairs. "You came to the capital with steel and demands," I said, my voice carrying the same way Mingyu's had. "That's not loyalty. That's arrogance. And I am so very tired of arrogance."

The general's eyes narrowed. "You would kill the empire's own soldiers?"

"I would kill anyone who thinks the empire is theirs to bargain over. I will kill anyone who goes against Zhu Mingyu," I replied. "Which makes whatever happens next a direct result of your actions and your choices. I remember reading something as a child. Maybe it will help you. 'Life is hard. Chose your hard."

He tried to hold my gaze. I let him see exactly how little patience I had left for any of this. "You've been playing war for too long," I continued. "I ended one. If you chose to go against your Emperor, to continued with the war or to start a new one, don't blame me for ending it."

Mingyu's hand brushed mine again, a quiet warning to let him speak. "General Yuan," he said, voice like steel wrapped in silk, "you and your family will lay down your arms and join us in the audience chamber. You will hear the charges against you and you will answer for them. If you refuse…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

The general looked at his daughter. Lady Yuan looked at her Aunt. The son, a few mere wars away from being a general, looked at all of them like he was willing to double down on what everyone else chose.

And I looked at them all and thought how very easy it would be to end this right here, right now.

Because peace wasn't just about treaties and supply lines. Sometimes it was about cutting out the rot before it could spread.

And if no one else had the stomach for it, well… that was why I was here.