Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 319: Chapter Three Hundred And Eighteen

Camilla began to walk slowly down the long, quiet hallway leading toward the garden wing.

Her soft shoes made very little sound on the thick red carpet. The hallway was empty of other guests. Everyone else was already in the meeting or outside in the gardens.

As she walked, she looked at the walls.

The walls were covered with tall oil portraits. The paintings were framed in carved gold. They showed the previous Kings, Queens, and great heroes of the Kingdom of Daril.

Camilla slowed her pace. She was fascinated by the art. She looked closely at a painting of a stern-looking King holding a large sword. She studied the details of his painted armor, admiring the skill of the artist. She was completely engrossed in looking at the historical portraits.

She took a step sideways to get a better view of the painting.

Suddenly, a solid weight collided into her right shoulder.

Thump.

Someone had bumped into her forcefully.

Because Camilla was wearing a hoop skirt with lot of fabrics and a tight corset, her balance was slightly restricted. The sudden impact made her stumble backward a half-step. Her silk skirts swished loudly against the carpet.

However, her reflexes kept her from falling. She easily caught her balance, planting her feet firmly on the floor.

A flash of sudden, sharp annoyance flared in her chest. She hated clumsy people.

Camilla quickly turned her head, ready to scold the careless person who had hit her.

"Don’t you watch..." Camilla started to speak loudly, her voice sharp and irritated.

But she stopped halfway through her angry sentence. Her voice died in her throat.

She saw the person who had bumped into her.

It was a young man. He looked to be exactly the same age as Damon. He was very tall, with neat, dark hair and an incredibly handsome, polite face. He was wearing very expensive, high-quality formal noble clothes made of dark green and gold fabric. He looked like someone with very high status in the kingdom.

But he was not acting arrogant. He was not acting like a snobby noble.

Before Camilla could even finish her sentence, the young man was already bowing. He bowed very deeply from the waist, showing her respect.

"I apologize, my lady," the young man spoke quickly. His voice was smooth, polite, and sounded genuinely sorry. "It is my fault. I was in a hurry and I wasn’t watching my step."

Camilla stood still.

She blinked her eyes. She was taken off guard. High-ranking noblemen rarely apologized to women, especially not with such a deep bow and polite words. Usually, they just scoffed and walked away.

His sudden, sincere apology disarmed her anger.

Camilla did not know what to say for a second. She felt slightly awkward for almost yelling at him.

"I..." Camilla stammered softly, looking at his polite face. "I..."

Before she could form a proper sentence to tell him she was fine, the quiet hallway was filled with the sound of fast, light footsteps running across the floor.

Another voice called out loudly from behind the young man.

"Elio... wait!"

Camilla looked past the young man.

A younger girl was running quickly down the hallway toward them. She looked to be exactly the same age as Camilla. The girl was very pretty, with bright, energetic eyes and soft hair. She was wearing a beautiful, light purple court dress. She was panting slightly, as if she had been running for a long distance.

In her hands, the young girl was holding a long, thick, golden sash.

The girl reached the young man. She stopped running and held out the golden sash toward him.

"You forgot your sash," the girl said quickly, her voice slightly breathless. She pushed the fabric into his hands.

The girl looked toward the far end of the hallway, which led to the royal council chamber.

"Quick, before the meeting starts," the girl urged him urgently. "Ivan is already inside. You don’t want to make father angry."

Camilla stood quietly on the red carpet. She listened to the girl’s hurried words.

Her mind immediately filed the information away.

"Elio," Camilla thought to herself. "Ivan. Father. They are clearly siblings. They are attending the royal council meeting, which means their father must be a very high-ranking lord, or perhaps even a royal duke."

The young man, Elio, quickly took the golden sash from the girl’s hands. He draped the thick fabric expertly across his chest and secured it at his waist. It completed his formal attire.

Elio turned his head back to Camilla. He offered her one last, very polite bow.

"I apologize again, my lady," Elio said respectfully. "Have a good day."

He did not wait for her reply. He turned around and jogged quickly down the hallway, heading straight toward the doors of the council chamber to join the meeting.

The younger girl in the purple dress stood in the hallway. She took a deep breath, smoothing down the front of her dress to calm herself after running.

Then, the girl turned her body. She looked at Camilla.

The girl smiled. It was a friendly smile. She did not look arrogant or snobby at all.

"Are you heading to the garden?" the girl asked cheerfully, her voice full of warm energy. She gestured her hand toward the glass doors at the side of the hallway. "Let’s go together."

Camilla looked at the smiling girl. She seemed harmless and very polite. Since Damon had told her to go to the garden anyway, walking with someone else might make it easier to find the right path.

Camilla nodded her head slowly.

"Yes," Camilla replied softly.

The girl stepped closer, walking side by side with Camilla down the red carpet.

"By the way," the girl spoke up, keeping a happy, conversational tone. "I’m Isolde. And you are?"

Camilla looked straight ahead. She saw no reason to hide her identity. She was attending an official royal event.

"I’m Camilla," she replied smoothly, stating her name clearly.

Isolde stopped walking.

She turned her head to look at Camilla.

Isolde’s eyes suddenly went wide. Her face lit up with delight and excitement.

"Oh!" Isolde gasped loudly, clapping her hands together in front of her purple dress.

Isolde stared at Camilla as if she were looking at a famous, magical creature.

"You are Damon’s wife?" Isolde asked, her voice rising in pitch with thrill. She smiled even wider. "It’s so nice to meet you!"

Camilla stopped walking. She looked at Isolde’s excited, glowing face.

Camilla did not smile back.

A sudden unexpected wave of annoyance flooded straight into Camilla’s chest. She felt a sharp pinch of irritation.

She remembered Lady Isabel Ryde. She remembered how Isabel had screamed about loving Damon. She remembered how other noblewomen always stared at Damon’s broad shoulders and handsome face.

Camilla narrowed her eyes slightly. She stared at Isolde’s happy, excited expression.

Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice turning cold and suspicious.

"Another one?" Camilla thought in her mind, crossing her arms mentally. "Another one of his fan girls?"

She looked at the girl’s bright eyes.

"Why is every single woman in this capital city so obsessed with my husband?" Camilla complained internally, feeling a strong, undeniable surge of possessiveness gripping her heart. "Can I not walk into a single hallway without meeting someone who gets overly excited just hearing his name?"

Camilla kept her face polite, but her eyes remained sharp and guarded as she looked at Isolde.

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