The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 67: Whispers on the Wind

Chapter 67: Whispers on the Wind

The tea had gone cold.

I didn’t mind. It hadn’t really been worth drinking to begin with.

Zhu Mingyu hadn’t moved in some time, but I could tell his mind hadn’t stopped once. His fingers hovered over a southern map, tracing paths no soldier had taken in years. That, in itself, was the problem.

I don’t even know if those maps were still accurate. You needed up-to-date information before making any type of decision, but there were no cellphones here; any information would be weeks old at best by the time it got to Zhu Mingyu.

He must know that just as well as I did, and the whitening of his knuckles let me know he wasn’t quite as stupid as he sometimes appeared to be. He didn’t speak, and neither did I. Silence stretched between us, companionable but taut. I liked it. There were worse people to share silence with.

Then came the knock.

Three taps—measured, confident, not the kind a servant would dare use. Not one of mine either. And it wasn’t Shi Yaozu. He was already here, somewhere in the room, draped in the shadows like silk.

Zhu Mingyu didn’t look up. "Enter," he barked, his voice low and rough as if he was frustrated that the map in front of him didn’t have all the answers to his questions.

The screen slid open, and a man in black stepped through. No mask. Not important enough for secrecy. Just the standard uniform of the Shadow Guard—streamlined, forgettable, loyal to a fault.

He knelt without being asked, forehead to the polished floor. "Your Highness," he said, his mouth snapping shut quickly after. "I have a report."

I rolled my eyes at the obvious, but Zhu Mingyu’s voice didn’t change. "There are no secrets from her. Report," he demanded, his anger now directed to the poor guard in front of him.

But it was nice to know where he stood when it came to me and my position in his house. I guess he wasn’t joking about the whole boat thing. I really thought I was about to get kicked out and only brought back on a ’need to know’ basis.

"Scouts from the southern front have returned. A detachment crossed the Jiang River three nights ago. They carried the banners of both Yelan and Chixia," stated the Shadow Guard, his head still bent down.

I didn’t move. Neither did Zhu Mingyu. But I could feel the shift in the room, like a sword unsheathing without sound.

"Two nations?" my husband asked, clearly never having considered that before.

"Yes, Your Highness. Our agent in Chixia confirmed a formal envoy was received in the Yelan court two weeks ago. We assumed trade negotiations. That was... incorrect."

My fingers drifted to the rim of the tea cup, still untouched. I didn’t speak. Not yet.

The guard continued, voice steady but clipped. "The town of Xueshan was taken before sunset yesterday. The granary was burned. The local administrator was executed with three of his aides. We estimate fewer than one hundred civilians survived."

Zhu Mingyu’s expression didn’t change, but his hand curled against the scroll.

"How close is Xueshan to the main trade route?" I asked.

"Seven li, Crown Princess. The road runs just north of the hills."

Close enough to matter. Close enough to send a message.

"And we only just received word now?" Zhu Mingyu asked.

The guard bowed deeper. "The region was under provincial supervision, and the southern patrols were recalled last winter. The Ministry of War claimed the territory had stabilized and there was no need to continue to have an army there."

I laughed. Quiet. Not amused.

"Stable," I repeated. "Until the ground opened beneath them. You have to wonder if the Minister of War is really that ignorant, or if it was done on purpose."

Both men turned to look at me, their eyes widening at my words. "What? Neither one of you thought that was a possibility? Unless a ruler is truly feared, it is always necessary to have an army at the border to protect what is yours. I also have a hard time believing that an entire Ministry of generals and soldiers don’t understand that concept."

"They’re watching you now," I continued, turning to Zhu Mingyu. "Yelan, Chixia, everyone with a claim to the border. They saw what the Emperor did—parading me through the capital in wedding silks. They believe you caged a storm."

I rose to my feet, slowly, letting the hem of my sleeve brush over the tea tray.

"They think you’ve taken the mountain’s teeth and pulled them clean."

Zhu Mingyu looked at me, that careful, emotionless gaze I was learning to read. I wondered if he hated that they believed it. Or if he feared it might be true.

"How many troops crossed the river?" he asked, turning away from me.

"No firm numbers," the guard replied. "But they carried siege banners. We believe this was a coordinated assault."

I folded my arms, watching the map. "They’re not testing the line. They’re claiming the field."

Zhu Mingyu stepped away from the table. "And the Emperor?"

"He’s convening a war council in two days. Quietly. He intends to assign regional commands and delay formal declaration for as long as possible."

"Of course he does," I muttered.

The old man had never made a decision he didn’t first bleed dry of consequence.

"The Red Demon Army is still on assignment in the west," I reminded them. I didn’t know about any of the other armies, but I did know that one. "Trying to find what I left behind."

"They won’t find anything, will they?" Zhu Mingyu sighed.

"No. But they’ll keep wasting time trying."

The guard kept his head down, still kneeling, still silent. He knew better than to interrupt. Zhu Mingyu waved a hand. "Dismissed."

The man bowed low once more and disappeared.

The door slid shut again.

We weren’t alone, not really. Shi Yaozu hadn’t moved once since I’d arrived, but I could feel him watching—waiting. Ready to kill or catch a whisper. Whichever came first.

Zhu Mingyu finally spoke again. "So it begins."

"No," I corrected. "It began when your father decided I was a prize. This—" I gestured toward the reports, the map, the ash in the brazier—"this is the consequence."

He turned toward me, slower this time. There was something behind his expression I hadn’t seen before. Frustration, maybe. A little fear. A lot of pressure.

"What would you do?" he asked.

"Pull the Red Demon Army and send them directly to the south," I answered. "Don’t force the Emperor’s hand, that will only lead to consequences for you. Instead, arrange your chess pieces the best you can and wait to see what move you need to make next. Let the court see this as what it is: invasion, not negotiation. And if he hesitates—"

"I’ll move without him," he finished.

Good.

I stepped beside him and stared down at the map. "You’ll need the mountain passes. Every ridge, every stream that floods in the rainy season. You’ll need the paths that twist so narrow a cart can’t pass but a single archer can hold a hundred men at bay."

"I’ll need a list," he said. "You have one?"

"Of course."

He arched a brow, faintly amused. "Of course you do."

I looked at him over my shoulder. "You married a monster, Zhu Mingyu. The least I can do is help you survive the hunt."

Thunder cracked somewhere in the distance.

And with it, the sound of war on the wind.