Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 325: Chapter Three Hundred And Twenty Four

Isolde heard the word. The princess did not look angry. She did not look offended.

Instead, a soft sad smile touched Isolde’s lips. She looked down at her teacup, her eyes reflecting memories of the distant past.

"Damon was my childhood friend," Isolde began to explain, her voice dropping into a quiet, gentle tone.

Camilla sat silently, listening closely.

"He always came to the palace with his father when we were very young," Isolde continued, tracing the rim of her teacup with her finger. "At that time, my father had just become the King of Daril. My father had great plans to reform the kingdom. And the former Duke, Damon’s father, was a brilliant General who shared the exact same interests and visions for the kingdom."

Isolde looked up, smiling fondly at the memory.

"Because our fathers spent so much time together in the council chambers," Isolde explained, "Damon spent a lot of time in these exact gardens."

She leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice into a secretive, playful whisper.

"I was so very small back then," Isolde confessed, her eyes sparkling. "But still, I admired Damon so much. He was so energetic. He was always laughing."

Isolde pointed a finger toward the large, open grassy fields of the royal garden.

"The way he played with my older brothers, Elio and Ivan, was so fascinating to me," Isolde said. "They would run around with wooden swords. They would climb the tall trees. They would get covered in mud and dirt."

The princess sighed softly.

"I became so jealous of them," Isolde admitted honestly. "As a princess, I was forced to wear tight dresses. I was told to sit quietly and drink tea. I wasn’t allowed to run or get dirty. I wanted to be a boy too, just so that he would play with me."

Isolde looked back at Camilla. Her smile grew much warmer.

"But then," Isolde said softly, "Damon noticed me sitting alone on the bench. He walked over to me. He gave me his wooden sword, and he told me I didn’t have to be a boy to be free. He played with me anyway, even in my dresses. He treated me like an equal."

Camilla listened to the story. She pictured a young, happy Damon running through the grass, laughing and playing with the royal children. It was a different image from the cold, terrifying, grumpy General she knew.

Isolde turned her head slightly. She looked out at the beautiful red rose bushes surrounding the white gazebo. The happy spark in her eyes slowly faded, replaced by a deep sadness.

"I eventually fell in love with him," Isolde confessed out loud, stating her past feelings with bold honesty. "He was my very first love."

Camilla remained still. She kept her face blank, waiting for the princess to finish.

"But then the terrible carriage accident happened," Isolde whispered, her voice shaking slightly with the painful memory. "When his parents passed away so suddenly... everything changed."

Isolde looked back at Camilla. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

"That cheerful, happy, smiling boy died on the exact same day his parents did," Isolde said sadly. "He stopped coming to the palace to play. When I finally saw him again years later, he was completely different. He was cold. He was terrifying. He kept on pushing people away. He refused to trust anyone."

Isolde placed her hand flat against her purple dress, right over her heart.

"It broke my heart to see him so empty," Isolde whispered.

The princess took a slow, deep breath. She blinked away her sad tears. Her expression changed from sadness to a look of serious honesty.

"So," Isolde continued, looking into Camilla’s eyes. "When he got married to you a year ago, I was furious."

Camilla raised her eyebrows slightly.

"I was so angry," Isolde admitted without any hesitation. "I thought you were just another greedy noble taking advantage of him. I actually went to my father. I threw a tantrum in the throne room. I tried to get my father to use his royal power to stop the wedding against the Duke’s wishes."

Isolde let out a short, soft embarrassed laugh.

"But..." Isolde chuckled softly, shaking her head at her own past foolishness. "My father, the King, refused. He said it was none of his business to interfere with noble family marriages. My father is just a very strict, upright man. He told me to grow up and let it go."

Camilla stared at the young princess.

She was amazed by Isolde’s behavior. Normally, noblewomen hid their true feelings behind polite smiles. Women like Isabel Ryde lied, schemed, and even tried to kill her.

But Princess Isolde was different. She was openly admitting her past jealousy, her past love, and her past anger to the face of her rival.

Isolde leaned back in her comfortable chair. She looked at Camilla with a warm,peaceful smile.

"But now," Isolde said softly, her voice full of relief. "Seeing Damon so happy with you today... I am no longer angry."

Camilla blinked.

"I am so glad," Isolde continued warmly, "that he finally has someone to love and trust. He finally has a real family again."

Isolde reached across the table. She gently placed her hand on top of Camilla’s hand.

"Now," Isolde stated happily, her eyes shining with cheerful energy. "I don’t want him anymore."

Isolde squeezed Camilla’s hand playfully.

"I want you," Isolde declared with a bright laugh.

Camilla froze.

Her mind, usually so sharp and quick to process threats, entirely short-circuited.

"What?" Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice sounding bewildered.

She looked at the princess with utter confusion. She did not understand the sudden, dramatic shift. One second the girl was talking about her broken heart, and the next second she was happily claiming her.

Camilla stared at Isolde, unsure if the princess meant she wanted to be best friends, or if this was some strange, new royal trap she had not prepared for or maybe the heartbreak made her go into girls. The sheer sincerity and straightforwardness was far more confusing than any bloody assassination attempt.

Before Camilla could formulate a proper response to the bizarre statement, the quiet peace of the garden was interrupted.

The steady sound of leather boots walking down the stone path echoed loudly.

A clear, polite, and very familiar male voice called out from just outside the rose bushes.

"Isolde," the voice called.

Both women turned their heads toward the entrance of the gazebo.

Prince Elio stepped into view. He stopped near the edge of the gazebo. He bowed his head slightly, acknowledging Camilla’s presence politely. Then, he looked at his younger sister.

"Father has finished his council meeting," Prince Elio announced clearly. "And mother needs to see you in her chambers right now."

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