The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 41: Until Death Do Us Part

Chapter 41: Until Death Do Us Part

"Ten," shrugged Zhao Xinying, ignoring the gasps from the ministers and onlookers around them. "Give or take one or two on a bad day."

Dimitri chuckled softly as he stared at Zhu Deming, "You know, I like you. I approve of that one," he announced, pointing to the Second Prince. "He looks like he is clinging to his sanity by the skin of his teeth. He’ll be fun to play with. How about I leave you some seeds for a wedding present? You never know if they’ll bloom into something... wrathful."

Zhao Xinying cocked her head to the side, but didn’t say anything. "I’ll think about it," she agreed after a moment. After all, demon seeds could add a whole new element to her world. But she couldn’t be sure if it was a smart idea or not.

"Would you mind if we went back to the ceremony? We’re almost done. I’m sure that I would be very interested in speaking to my wife’s... uncles... at a later time," smiled Zhu Mingyu as Dimitri and Zhu Deming continued to stare at each other.

"Nah," shrugged Dimitri after a moment. "We need to get back to court before Hattie decides to destroy it again. You would think Dante would know better than to force her to listen to petitions. That woman was not meant to rule."

"She rules better than all of you combined," chuckled Zhao Xinying with a shake of her head. "But I’ll be sure to tell her that you don’t appreciate everything that she does."

"Are you crazy?!?" demanded Dimitri, taking a step back. "I like my balls right where they are, thank you very much. Go, finish your wedding. And remember, sometimes it’s okay to smother the flames for a bit. That way, when you finally release them, they’ll burn that much hotter."

"Tell Aunt Hattie that I miss her," nodded Zhao Xinying. "And if possible, I’ll bring my husband to see her sometime."

"We miss you too, Little Wolf," grunted Chang Xuefeng. "If you need us, we’re just a call away."

The two nodded their heads to Zhu Mingyu and Zhu Deming before turning around and walking away.

Zhao Xinying let out a soft sigh as she watched the two men disappear from sight. There was something comforting that while she was forging her own path, home was still there waiting for her when she needed it.

"Let’s continue," announced Zhu Mingyu as he took Zhao Xinying’s hand in a punishing grip and guided her back to where the matchmaker stood. With her hands slightly trembling, the woman continued.

"Present the wine."

Zhu Mingyu took the first cup, and Zhao Xinying followed, her fingers steady even as her pulse rang in her ears.

They drank.

The matchmaker turned to the Crown Prince. "You may lift the veil."

He stepped forward.

For the first time all day, their eyes met.

His fingers pinched the edge of the red silk, lifting it slowly.

Gasps rippled through the hall.

Her face was unmarred. Unpainted. Her expression unreadable.

For a girl with no name, no noble blood, no value—they had expected a concubine’s softness, maybe a pretty kind of vacancy.

What they saw instead was stillness.

Control.

Something ancient behind young eyes.

Sun Longzi saw it.

Zhu Deming felt it in his throat.

The Emperor’s informants would write it in their scrolls.

The bride didn’t smile. She only tilted her chin slightly, letting the light catch her eyes.

The music played, and the Crown Prince turned toward the gathered court and announced, in a voice clear and calm, "This is the woman I now call my wife, the Crown Princess of Daiyu."

No one clapped, no one cheered. But in the silence that followed, Zhao Xinying smiled softly, dipping her head just a bit. To outsiders, it looked like she was smug or embarrassed to be called the Crown Princess when she didn’t deserve it.

But Zhao Xinying knew the truth. She had just stepped into the cage willingly, biding her time and smothering the flame.

No one in this room had any idea who they had just bound to the Crown Prince. Not yet.

But they would.

And when that time came, they would either run screaming from the fire or be burned to ashes. Either way, she would have her revenge.

------

That night, the bridal chamber was quiet again—this time, thick with unsaid truths.

Zhao Xinying stood near the window, her veil removed and folded neatly on the low table. The Crown Prince was behind her, untying the ceremonial sash from around his waist, not speaking.

Eventually, he broke the silence.

"I won’t touch you," he said simply. "Not out of pity. Not out of disgust. Just... not interested."

She didn’t turn. "How noble," she chuckled softly as she shook her head. If he had tried to force himself on her, then everything would have ended tonight. The fact that he didn’t, gave her a brief look into his character. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought he was.

Then again, how bad did she think he was if not raping her was actually something to be impressed about.

"Hardly." He sounded tired. "You’re my wife now. The Empress title isn’t out of reach, not with how the court saw you today. I don’t know what game you’re playing... but I’ll play it with you. You understand how to compose yourself; you were impressive today."

"Then let’s hope neither of us folds first," Zhao Xinying agreed, interested in the truce between her and her husband. She might not agree with the marriage, but to her, there was no such thing as divorce.

Well... there was always widowhood. That was still on the table.

A quiet snort startled her out of her thoughts as Zhu Mingyu continued. "Whether we live or die in this palace depends on how well we can pretend to be united."

Finally, she looked at him. "So what now?"

He gestured toward the daybed by the far wall. "Now, I sleep there. You’ll sleep on the bed. And we let the court wonder what happened between us."

She said nothing as he lay down, still in partial robes. But just before closing his eyes, he looked at her one last time.

"I won’t bother to bleed for you," he murmured, voice dry. "After all, no one is expecting to see virgin blood on the sheets... now are they?"

Zhao Xinying’s lips curled faintly—not in shame, not in anger. Just... interest.

For the first time, he’d told her the truth.

And she respected that more than any ceremonial bow they just had.