The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 94: A Mother or A Pawn

Chapter 94: A Mother or A Pawn

By dawn, the household began to shift again.

On thing that Hattie had always taught me that when it came to dealing with other people, it was best to keep them as off balance as possible. If they were too worried about where their feet would land, then they wouldn’t be able to think about a counterattack.

Orders moved quietly. Staff rotations were announced without ceremony. The steward who had overseen the kitchen since the previous winter was transferred to the outer estate. Two new maidservants arrived in my quarters with fresh uniforms and trembling hands.

I said nothing. I didn’t have to.

Zhu Mingyu kept his word. I was given full access—rosters, records, a copy of each servant’s origin file and the seal used to assign them. The ones who resisted were removed. The ones who remained adjusted their posture when I passed, heads bowed just a little lower.

Whispers moved faster than orders, though. I heard them in the corridor outside the accounting room.

She’s going through the records herself.

They say she speaks to the Crown Prince like an equal.

She burned a steward alive—

Okay, that one wasn’t true. I’d only scalded him a bit when I threw my tea at him.

But truth or lies didn’t matter, what I wanted was to keep them uncertain.

Let the fear settle. Let the Crown Prince’s court tread lightly again.

Shi Yaozu trailed silently behind me, dressed in his black uniform with a short blade sheathed under his sleeve. I didn’t ask how many letters he had intercepted that morning. He didn’t tell me.

We worked best that way.

By the second hour of the afternoon, we’d identified three points of failure: a maid from Lady Yuan’s residence who had been granted odd access to the archive wing; a steward working under Zhao Meiling who had suddenly acquired a silk-wrapped parcel of coins; and a records boy from the eastern hall who had mysteriously resigned three days ago and vanished from the city entirely.

Coincidence?

Sure, let’s go with that.

They were testing the edges—probing for weakness.

But they’d forgotten who built the cage they were crawling through.

Still, it wasn’t enough to know there were leaks. I needed to know who the water was flowing to.

"Lady Yuan has grown bold," I murmured later that day, seated with Mingyu in the upper library. "She’s pushing for more access. She requested the master seal for the account records."

"She’s pregnant," he replied flatly, reading through the scroll in his lap. "That gives her room to ask for things that would otherwise be denied. After all, if she successfully gives birth to the child it will elevate her status even more since she will be the mother of my first child."

"She doesn’t want a child," I scoffed, already feeling bad for the kid. "She wants leverage. Position."

He looked up at me. "You think she wants to be Empress?"

"I think she’s willing to kill to become one. The only problem is that I am standing in her way, and I won’t move."

His expression didn’t change, but his thumb pressed harder against the scroll edge.

"She’s also asking to switch physicians," he said after a moment. "Said her pulse readings were inconsistent. She didn’t like the answer she was given."

"Oh?"

"The old on told her that she is having a girl." His voice turned drier. "She didn’t take it well."

I let out a small breath, just shy of a laugh. "And she thinks that’s my fault?"

"Everything is your fault," he replied. "Haven’t you figured that out by now?"

I leaned back against the divan and looked at him sidelong. "If she tries anything—"

"She won’t," he cut in. "Not yet. But Meiling might."

That pulled my smile tighter.

"They’ve allied," I said. "I liked it better when they were going after each other and leaving me out of it."

Back then, Meiling wanted to be the Crown Princess, and Lady Yuan refused to give up her position as the favorite. Essentially, they were too focused on climbing, on survival, on each other. Now they’d found a common enemy: the one woman who refused to die when discarded.

Well. Let them try.

Let them come for the Witch.

But while they schemed, I worked.

I installed a rotation in the outer kitchens—every servant would be reassigned by the week’s end. The eastern hall was temporarily closed. The water carriers were questioned, their buckets inspected for hidden messages. The incense deliveries were halted. Even the birds were moved from the garden cages.

Every channel would be closed.

And I’d find the ones who opened them.

That evening, I stood on the garden bridge as dusk fell, watching the koi move slowly beneath the water. The reflection of the moon shimmered, soft and fractured. A servant approached behind me.

"Your Highness," she whispered, bowing. "Lady Yuan... requests an audience."

I didn’t turn around.

"Does she?" I murmured. "What does she want?"

"She says it’s urgent. She’s... unwell."

"If she is unwell, go call a doctor, what can I do for her?" I sneered, staring out at the pond for another heartbeat, then nodded once. When the servant didn’t move, I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I sighed. "Have her wait in the lesser receiving room. I’ll be along shortly."

Finally, the girl bowed and fled.

Behind me, Shi Yaozu spoke for the first time in hours.

"She’s planning something," he said, his voice soft.

"Of course, she is," I agreed. "But now she’s worried that she’s losing."

"She wouldn’t ask for a meeting if she still thought she had the upper hand."

"Exactly."

I didn’t change before going to see her.

Let her see me exactly as I was—simple robes, no ornaments, hair pinned low. The look of a woman with nothing to prove and no need to impress.

Lady Yuan was already seated when I entered, her pale gold gown carefully arranged to accentuate the curve of her stomach. She did not rise.

"Crown Princess," she greeted. Her voice was soft. So was her expression.

Too soft.

"I hear you requested a physician’s reassignment," I said by way of greeting, stepping past her to pour myself tea.

She smiled faintly. "He was... mistaken. I simply wanted confirmation."

"You’re having a daughter." I took a sip. "Congratulations."

That smile faltered, just slightly.

"And yet you came to see me," I continued, setting the cup down. "Why?"

"I..." She hesitated. "I wished to... apologize."

My eyebrows lifted.

"For?"

She folded her hands in her lap, perfectly demure. "I may have overstepped in my assumptions. About your role in this household. And your relationship with His Highness."

I leaned against the table. "No. What you assumed was correct."

Her eyes flickered up.

"The only problem is that I am more dangerous than you gave me credit for."

Silence stretched thin between us.

She lowered her gaze again. "I meant no harm."

"I believe you." I smiled faintly. "Which is why I’ll offer you one chance."

"Chance?" she repeated.

"To remove yourself from the games that are being played." I stepped closer, each word slow and deliberate. "To focus on the child in your belly. To act like a mother instead of a pawn."

"I’m not a pawn."

"No. You’re a liability." I didn’t blink. "And if you continue down this path, I will treat you as such."

Her throat moved in a swallow, but she said nothing.

"You don’t want war with me, Lady Yuan," I whispered, eyes sharp. "You won’t survive it."

I turned and left before she could find the courage to respond.

Because I knew she wouldn’t.

Not yet.

But Meiling... Meiling would soon be a different story.