Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 316: Chapter Three Hundred And Fifteen

The next morning arrived with a bright, cool breeze. The sun slowly rose above the high stone walls of the Benson mansion, casting a warm golden light across the large, paved courtyard.

The courtyard was busy.

Several stable boys were running back and forth. They were carrying buckets of fresh water and brushes to groom the horses. The coachmen were busy getting the large carriage ready for the important journey to the royal palace. They wiped the dust off the glass windows and checked the thick leather harnesses.

Standing on the other side of the carriage, away from the busy workers, were Damon and Kade.

The two men were talking quietly. Their faces were very serious. They were discussing and preparing what to do.

A few feet away from them, Camilla stood near the stone steps of the mansion.

Camilla let out a long, tired yawn. She raised her arms, stretching her hands high into the cool morning air. She tried to wake her sleepy body up. She had not slept very much the night before because of their passionate, exhausting activities in the bedroom.

After yawning, Camilla lowered her arms. She started moving her waist from side to side. She twisted her upper body slightly, trying desperately to stretch the stiff, tight corset squeezing her ribs.

The darn thing was incredibly tight.

Today was the day of the royal council meeting. Because she was accompanying the General to the royal palace, she could not wear her simple, comfortable cotton dresses. She had to follow the strict rules of high society.

She was dressed in full court attire. It was a heavy complicated outfit. She wore a stiff, bone-crushing corset that pulled her waist in tightly. Under her dress, she wore a wide flexible hoop skirt to make the fabric puff out. On top of that, there were many layers of garments and an expensive, dark blue silk and velvet clothing.

Camilla felt heavy. She felt exactly like a stuffed animal being prepared for the slaughter. Every time she took a deep breath, the stiff bones of the corset dug painfully into her ribs. She could barely bend over, and she felt like she was carrying a mountain of fabric on her hips.

She frowned deeply. She glared down at the heavy blue silk of her dress.

She thought to herself, her internal voice filled with irritated annoyance.

"This darn thing," Camilla complained in her mind, taking a short, shallow breath. "They don’t want me to breathe. I need to be able to move my arms and legs freely. How am I supposed to curtsy and show my etiquette

today if I am trapped inside a walking cage of fabrics? This is so ridiculous."

On the other side of the carriage, Damon was listening to Kade’s report about the recovering soldiers.

But suddenly, Damon stopped listening to Kade.

He heard her loud, grumpy complaint echoing clearly inside his head. He heard her call the dress a "darn thing." He heard her frustrated sigh.

Damon turned his head. He looked across the courtyard and saw Camilla standing near the steps. He saw her twisting her waist, looking deeply uncomfortable and very annoyed.

Damon immediately excused himself from his aide.

"Give me a moment, Kade," Damon said softly.

Kade nodded and stepped back, allowing his commander to leave.

Damon walked slowly across the stone pavement, heading toward Camilla.

He was also dressed in his full, formal royal court attire today. He looked absolutely magnificent. He wore his dark blue military uniform. The fabric was perfectly pressed, without a single wrinkle. His chest was decorated with shiny silver medals that proved his many victories in war.

His dark hair was not messy today. It was styled neatly, brushed straight back and slick, making his sharp, handsome facial features look even more striking. He looked exactly like the powerful, commanding General that the entire kingdom feared and respected.

As he walked, Damon slowly adjusted the white gloves on his hands. He pulled the white fabric tightly over his fingers, preparing to present himself at the royal palace.

He reached Camilla. He stood right before her.

He looked down at her beautiful face. She was frowning, her hazel eyes glaring at the front of her dress.

Damon raised his hands. He gently reached out and cupped her face in his large, white-gloved hands. His touch was warm and tender.

Seeing her little annoyed face, a very soft, genuine smile broke out across Damon’s lips. He found her grumpy morning mood endearing.

"What is annoying my Raven?" Damon asked. His voice was a quiet, soothing rumble in the busy courtyard. He used the sweet, affectionate nickname he kept for her in his heart.

Camilla looked up at his smiling face. She felt his warm hands holding her cheeks. She let out a soft, tired breath.

Camilla spoke, her voice very soft and slightly strained.

"It’s tight," Camilla complained honestly, looking down at her chest. "The maids pulled the laces too hard this morning. I can barely take a full breath of air."

Damon did not tell her to just endure it for the sake of the royal court. He did not care about the strict rules of noble fashion. He only cared about her comfort.

Damon stepped to the side. He walked slowly behind her back.

"Hold still," Damon murmured softly.

He looked at the complicated row of tight silk laces running down the back of her dress. His hands were usually meant for holding steel swords, but right now, they moved with delicate care.

He slipped his gloved fingers under the tight silk strings. Very gently, making sure not to ruin the fabric, he loosened the tight laces just a little bit. He pulled the strings outward, giving her ribs some much-needed space to expand.

As soon as the tight strings loosened, the heavy pressure on Camilla’s chest vanished.

Camilla took a long, deep, full breath of fresh morning air. Her lungs expanded all the way.

She let out a satisfied sigh of relief in her mind.

"Oh, thank goodness," Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice sounding relaxed. "That feels so much better. I can actually feel the air in my lungs again. I am not going to pass out in the carriage."

Standing right behind her, Damon heard her happy, relieved thoughts.

A small proud smile plastered Damon’s face hearing her relief. He loved knowing that he could make her feel better. He tied the laces back into a neat, secure knot, making sure the dress still looked perfectly elegant, but much looser than before.

He stepped back around to the front. He looked down at her.

"Better?" Damon asked smoothly.

Camilla smiled. The annoyed frown was gone from her beautiful face.

Camilla nodded her head happily. "Mmmm," she hummed softly, a sound of comfort. She looked up into his dark brown eyes.

Damon spoke to her, his voice very gentle but firm. He wanted to make sure she understood his feelings.

"If it’s too tight next time," Damon instructed her softly, "let the maids know, okay? Tell them to stop pulling. You do not have to suffer just to look a certain way."

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