Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 294: Chapter Two Hundred And Ninety Three

Her eyes flared with sudden anger. She did not care that Murry was standing right there in the room.

She quickly pulled her right hand out from under the blankets, curled her small fingers into a tight fist, swung her arm and hit his chest.

Smack.

"Say that again," Camilla threatened him loudly, her face turning even redder with embarrassment. She glared up at him like an angry little cat. "Say that again, and I will rip your mouth wide open."

The bedroom went silent for exactly one second.

Then, Damon threw his head back against the pillows.

He laughed.

It was a very rich laugh. The sound rumbled heavily inside his broad chest. He loved her fiery temper.

Standing near the table, Mr. Murry watched the young couple interact.

The old housekeeper’s wrinkled face broke into an overjoyed smile. His eyes actually grew slightly misty with happy tears. For an entire year, this master bedroom had been as cold and silent as a frozen grave. But now, it was filled with laughter, teasing, and true life.

Murry bowed deeply, wanting to leave them to their happy morning.

"I will do that right away, my lord," Murry replied happily. He turned around, opened the door, and walked out of the room, closing the door shut.

Camilla lay on the bed, glaring at Damon’s smiling face.

She thought to herself, her internal voice filled with a mixture of annoyance and secret, hidden affection.

"What a bully," Camilla thought in her mind, letting out a soft sigh. "He just loves to make me look foolish in front of the servants. He is so annoying."

Damon finally stopped laughing. His chest settled down. The warm, happy smile remained firmly on his face.

He slowly let go of his grip on her body. He moved his hand away from her buttocks, finally giving her the personal space she wanted.

Damon sat up slightly on the mattress. He reached out his long arm toward the table next to the bed.

He picked up the small glass vial left by Doctor Aris the night before. The vial was half-full to flush the remaining sundew powder toxins from her blood.

Damon turned back to Camilla. He held the small glass vial out toward her.

"You need to finish your dose," Damon said. His voice became serious and caring again. "The doctor said you must drink the rest of this today to clear your fever."

She quickly reached her hand out. She did not want him to feed her like a helpless baby again.

"I can do it myself," Camilla said firmly.

She snatched the small glass vial out of his fingers.

Damon did not fight her. He simply raised his hands in surrender.

"Very well then," Damon said smoothly.

He let go of her completely. He leaned his back against the headboard of the bed, giving her room to sit up.

Camilla pushed the thick blankets down to her waist. She sat up straight against the pillows and pulled the small cork out of the glass vial.

She brought the glass rim to her lips, tilted her head back, and drank the blue liquid in one quick gulp. The medicine slid down her throat, leaving a freezing, fresh sensation in her chest.

While Camilla was busy drinking her medicine, Damon focused his attention back on his duties.

He picked up the envelope and inserted his thumb under the red wax seal. With a sharp, quick motion, he broke the royal seal.

He pulled out the folded piece of expensive parchment paper. He opened the letter.

Damon read the elegant, curving handwriting of the King’s scribe in his mind.

The letter was very direct and serious. It was a formal summons. The King was commanding all the high lords, military generals, and powerful dukes of the kingdom to gather at the royal palace for a full council meeting. They were going to finalize the new laws and prepare the army for a potential war against the enemy who created the explosive iron pipes.

Damon read the final lines. He understood exactly what this meant. The capital city was about to be filled with heavily armed soldiers and stressed nobles. The tension in the kingdom was going to reach a breaking point.

Damon slowly nodded his head once, accepting the military responsibility.

He carefully folded the piece of parchment paper back into a small square. He slipped the folded letter back into the envelope and placed it on the table next to the bed.

Camilla finished drinking her medicine. She placed the empty glass vial down on the table next to the letter.

She looked at Damon’s face. Her instincts immediately noticed the sudden, dark shift in his mood.

"Is anything the matter?" Camilla asked him softly. Her eyes were observant, searching his face for clues.

Damon looked at her. He did not want to burden her mind with talk of explosive weapons, spies, and impending wars. He wanted her to feel safe inside the mansion.

Damon slowly shook his head from side to side.

"No," Damon lied smoothly, his deep voice calm and reassuring. "It’s nothing. Just regular military reports."

He shifted his body on the mattress, turning to face her fully. He looked at her with a very strict, protective expression.

"I don’t want you to go out today," Damon spoke firmly, issuing a clear command regarding her health. "You are still weak from the fever. I want you to stay home and rest."

Camilla frowned slightly. She thought about her busy fabric store in the lower city. She thought about Allen waiting for her.

Damon saw her hesitant frown. He immediately offered a practical solution to stop her from worrying about her business.

"I will tell Uncle Murry to send a fast messenger with a letter to Allen," Damon promised smoothly. "The letter will explain that you are resting today so that your business partner won’t be worried about your absence."

Camilla let out a soft, defeated sigh. She knew he was right. Her muscles were still very sore, and she felt very exhausted. Running around the dusty lower city today would be a terrible idea.

She pushed her bottom lip out in a very small, cute pout. She hated being told what to do, but she secretly liked the fact that he was taking care of her business for her.

"You don’t need to tell me," Camilla mumbled softly, looking away from him. She crossed her arms lightly over her chest. "I know I need rest."

Damon looked at her cute, pouting face. He saw the wild, messy red curls falling over her forehead and her bare shoulders.

He smiled a warm gentle smile.

Damon slowly reached out his hand. He gently brushed the messy red curls away from her face, arranging the soft hair neatly behind her ear. His fingers lingered warmly against her pale cheek for a brief second.

"Of course you do," Damon agreed softly, his deep voice filled with affection. He looked deeply into her bright hazel eyes. "You always know what to do."

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