The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 43: A Bit of Chaos

Chapter 43: A Bit of Chaos

The Empress’s palace was the sort of place that made your skin itch under silk.

Too much red. Too much gold. Too much of everything.

The walls shimmered with embroidered panels of cranes and lotus blossoms, the floor polished until I could see the distorted reflection of my own face. Incense curled in the air like snakes—sandalwood and something sweeter, meant to smell delicate but landing like a weight in my lungs.

It was meant to overwhelm.

And it succeeded.

The Empress sat atop a dais, framed by trailing silks and a painted screen, her face pale beneath layers of powder. She wore jade and pearls like armor, her spine stiff and elegant. But behind the beauty, there was something hollow—like a statue built too thin to hold its own weight.

She coughed once. Then again, sharper, into a fine handkerchief. Her hand trembled, just slightly, before she tucked the cloth away. Reaching for the cup of tea that no one had bothered to hand her, she took a delicate sip before letting out an almost silent sigh of relief.

Looking over at Zhu Mingyu, I saw his jaw tighten.

The servants were still fussing, lining the edge of the hall, pretending not to listen while hanging on every word. They were like decorative vases; they made everything look better, but at the end of the day, they were next to useless.

The Empress didn’t look at them; hell, she barely looked at us.

Then, with a flick of her fingers, she said, "Leave us." Her voice rang throughout the audience room. There was a ripple of surprise that passed through the room as all the servants looked at each other. The chief maid hesitated.

"Now," repeated the Empress, her voice taking on a harder tone to it.

The room emptied so quickly you’d think the walls themselves had snapped their fingers.

Silence followed, but I didn’t move. Neither did Mingyu.

Finally, when the last eunuch left the room, the Empress exhaled and leaned slightly against the armrest, her strength waning the moment no one was left to see it.

"You should have gone to see Consort Mei first," she said, her voice thin, brittle like a drying leaf. "You need to play the game better."

Zhu Mingyu didn’t blink as he approached his mother and went to sit down beside her. "She’s not my mother."

"She’s favored, and that is all that matters," sneered the woman as her eyes fluttered shut. I could hear the tightening of her throat as she tried to speak.

"And you’re the Empress. The title’s still on your head," reminded Zhu Mingyu. The concern he had for his mother was easy to see on his face.

"For now," she murmured, waving her hand weakly in the air. "Until it isn’t."

He didn’t answer.

She looked down at her hands for a moment before turning her attention back to her son. "We are simply placeholders, Mingyu. You know that. You’re clever enough. We are here to distract—to keep the light focused on us while your brother and his mother build their empire in the shadows."

"I’m not stupid," he said quietly.

"No," she agreed, "but you are stupidly loyal. And that will kill you faster than stupidity alone."

I had to bite back the urge to laugh as Zhu Mingyu’s mother called in stupid in two different ways while still using the same word. But I appreciated seeing the interaction between the two. It made me realize just how deep the court waters were.

After all, Aunt Hattie’s court wasn’t nearly this complicated.

Zhu Mingyu looked like he wanted to argue, but couldn’t. His lips parted. Then closed again.

"I’ve seen it coming," she continued, not looking at him. "I’ve seen the way the Emperor pulls away. The way he avoids this wing, the way the eunuchs pretend not to notice I’m coughing blood into silk. The moment he feels safe, Mingyu... the moment he believes you’ve chosen loyalty over ambition... he will cut the rope that ties me to this throne."

"You’re still his wife," Zhu Mingyu said, each word hard, brittle.

She gave a dry, humorless smile. "And that matters to exactly no one."

Neither of them said anything for a moment.

I stood very still—a ghost in red silk, holding a tray of untouched tea.

"I can’t fix this," Zhu Mingyu said softly, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. "Not yet."

"You shouldn’t try," she replied. "It won’t save me."

He swallowed. "Then what do you want from me?"

The Empress looked up slowly. Her eyes—sharp, silvered with fatigue—moved from her son to me.

Then, for the first time, she looked my way and said my name. "Zhao Xinying," she breathed, fluttering her hand in my direction to get me to come closer.

I dipped my head as I stopped a few feet away from her. "Your Majesty."

"She’s sharp," she said to Zhu Mingyu, her eyes narrowing on him. "That’s good. You’ll need her."

Zhu Mingyu didn’t move, didn’t even speak.

Her gaze returned to me. "How long do you think you’ll survive in this palace?"

I smiled faintly as I shrugged my shoulders. "I’ve survived worse places," I assured her. I could honestly say that there was nothing here that would keep me dead for long, not even cutting off my head.

There was a long pause before a whisper of a word reached my ears. "Chaos," she breathed, a slight smile on her face.

"Pardon?" I replied, cocking my head to the side as I blinked in confusion.

"My son... he’s always been careful. Controlled. Steady." Her fingers tightened around the armrest. "But this palace... it wasn’t built for steady men. Steady men die without knowing how. If you want to survive this palace, you need to be built for chaos."

"Fortunately," I said, stepping forward and kneeling beside her dais, "I’m very good at chaos." Placing the tray that I was still holding to the side, I reached out and grabbed her hand.

It was cold. Thin. Unsteady. In fact, I was pretty sure that if I had grabbed her any harder, I would be fixing bones at this very moment.

Calling on my healing, I pushed just enough warmth into her to help her relax. Just a trickle of energy. Not enough to be seen from outside, but enough to ease the pressure in her lungs, to remove the mucus that had been building up in them. TB... tuberculosis. It would have been fatal for her if I wasn’t here. But luckily for her, I was.

Her eyes widened the longer I held her hand, and I brought a finger to my lips and gave her a slow wink.

She didn’t smile. Not fully. But her breathing grew easier, and the trembling in her fingers faded.

"I suppose," she said finally, "there are worse things than having chaos on my side."

Humming in agreement, I rose as Zhu Mingyu stepped forward. He didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge what he’d seen—if he’d seen anything. But I caught it in the flick of his gaze, the way his shoulders relaxed half a fraction.

"Go," she said, voice stronger than before. "Serve the Emperor. Let them think you’re tame."

She didn’t look at me when she added, "But do not become tame."

Zhu Mingyu bowed deeply.

I only smiled. She didn’t need to worry about me. I didn’t have a tame bone in my body.