The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 96: Now They’ll See

Chapter 96: Now They’ll See

The note arrived just after morning court, folded into the petals of a lotus-shaped box and tied with golden thread. Lady Yuan broke the seal in silence, eyes scanning the short message twice before she lowered it into her lap.

She didn’t speak for a long time.

Her old nursemaid—now little more than a silent shadow by her side—shifted nervously beside her.

"Does he still think it’s a girl?" the woman asked quietly.

Lady Yuan said nothing.

"Your mother has made it clear," the woman continued. "It is better for you to sacrifice this one to get rid of the threat, boy or girl. You can always give him more later... once you’re in your proper position."

Still, Lady Yuan did not answer. Her fingers toyed with the edge of the note before finally crumpling it into her fist.

Her chin lifted.

"There is still a chance," she said aloud, her voice unsteady, as she rubbed her stomach. "The physician could be wrong." But she knew better. Right or wrong, this was not the time to have this child. Not when the blood spilled could be put to better use.

The nursemaid nodded and produced a small pouch from her sleeve. A silken sachet, carefully tied, filled with a fine white powder.

"It won’t kill you," the old woman said. "Just enough to upset things. If you’re lucky, you’ll pass the child quickly. If not... the pain will be real enough."

Lady Yuan stared at the pouch.

"You won’t have to say anything," the nurse continued. "Just fall. Let the rest happen on its own. No one will blame you."

Lady Yuan’s lips twitched into a smile. "Of course not. I’m just the victim."

She took the pouch without hesitation, a gleam in her eyes.

-----

Zhao Xinying was in her study when the request arrived.

"Lady Yuan wishes to see you, Your Highness," the maid announced.

Xinying looked up from the report in front of her. She had just finished reviewing the staff transfers for the week and had started making notes for the garden renovations.

"Again?" she asked dryly. "Was yesterday’s meeting not enough?"

"She says it is urgent. She’s... emotional."

Xinying raised an eyebrow. "Is she ever not?" She stood, brushing her hands off on her sleeves. "Fine. Show her into the side reception hall. I’ll be there shortly."

She didn’t change. She rarely did. Instead, she walked slowly through the corridors, letting the silence build. The servants who passed her lowered their heads, skirts brushing the polished stone floors.

By the time she entered the room, Lady Yuan was already seated on the edge of the platform. Her eyes were red, but not from crying—not yet. Her hands trembled slightly, folded in her lap.

"Your Highness," she said, rising with a slow bow.

"Lady Yuan," Xinying replied, seating herself across from her. She nodded at the teapot already waiting. "Shall we be civil, then?"

Lady Yuan said nothing, merely poured herself a cup of tea. Her hand shook slightly as she filled the second cup. Xinying watched, unblinking.

The second tea was placed before her, but Xinying didn’t drink it. "To what do I owe this visit?" she asked.

"I wanted to apologize again," Lady Yuan said, her voice trembling slightly. "And... perhaps speak about how we might coexist in peace."

"That would require honesty. I’m not sure you remember what that tastes like."

Lady Yuan’s eyes glistened. "I never meant to come between you and His Highness. I was chosen before I ever knew you existed."

"And yet here we are," Xinying murmured. "Still pretending this is about love."

Lady Yuan lowered her head. A few heartbeats passed.

Then, quite suddenly, she swayed.

Her hand clutched at her lower belly, and she sank to the floor with a strangled sound. The tea spilled. Porcelain shattered.

"No..." she gasped. "No, no, no—please—not now—"

Blood stained her inner robes. Not gushing, but enough. Enough to be seen. Enough to make the right people whisper.

"Get help!" one of the servants screamed.

But another had already gone.

Lady Yuan curled on the floor, her voice breaking with each sob.

"Please," she cried, reaching toward Xinying. "Please, I never meant to steal him from you. I never meant to take his love. But you didn’t have to—you didn’t have to do this! The child... the child was innocent!"

Xinying stared at her.

Unmoving.

Unflinching.

The sound of rushed footsteps echoed down the corridor. Zhu Mingyu burst into the room a moment later, followed by two physicians and a steward.

He froze when he saw the blood.

"What happened?" he demanded.

Lady Yuan sobbed harder, her voice cracking. "I just wanted to speak with her. She... she made tea. I drank it—and then—and then the pain—"

She clutched her belly tighter.

The physicians knelt beside her. One began examining her pulse. The other checked the blood.

"We must move her," one said. "Quickly."

Mingyu turned to Xinying.

"What happened?"

Xinying was still seated. Her expression unreadable.

"She requested a meeting. She poured tea. She drank. Then she collapsed."

"And you?"

"I didn’t touch her."

"You didn’t drink the tea?"

"I never do."

His eyes narrowed.

Lady Yuan let out another sob.

"Please... I just wanted to raise our child. I never wanted this war. Please... Your Highness... she killed our baby."

The room fell silent.

The physicians rose. One of them looked grave.

"We... we cannot save it."

Zhu Mingyu stood completely still.

The only sound was the soft rustling of Lady Yuan’s sobs as she buried her face into her stained sleeves.

Xinying rose. Slowly.

She looked at the physicians and then at Mingyu. "This is a trap," she sighed, closing her eyes as she rubbed her forehead. "You and I both know it."

He said nothing.

The silence stretched.

One of the servants in the hall began to cry.

Rumors didn’t need words. They needed blood.

And blood had been given.

Lady Yuan didn’t cry again. Not even as the physician declared the child gone.

She just stared at the Crown Princess with reddened eyes—and whispered, "Now they’ll see you for what you really are."