Chapter 176: Chapter Hundred And Seventy Five
But the boredom was already getting frustrating.
Camilla slowly turned her head away from the window, tired of seeing the same pattern of trees and rocks. She looked across the small space. She saw Damon sitting there. His broad shoulders were slumped slightly. His arms were crossed very tightly over his chest. He was staring at the floor of the carriage. His face was covered in a dark, gloomy cloud. He was clearly sulking.
Camilla frowned slightly. She watched him for a moment.
She thought to herself, her internal voice sounding very tired and confused.
"What is wrong with him now?" Camilla thought. She looked at his crossed arms and his downward stare. "Why is he in a foul mood? Just ten minutes ago, he was standing tall and proud in front of his grandfather. Now he looks like a dark rain cloud. Is it because of his injury?"
She let her eyes drop down to his right hand and let out a long, quiet breath. She groaned internally.
"He acts as a child most of the time," Camilla complained in her mind. "He is a grown man. He is a powerful military general. If he is in pain, he should just say it. Instead, he just sits there and sulks in silence, expecting people to read his mind."
She uncrossed her legs. She reached her hand into the hidden pocket of her traveling dress. Her small fingers found what she was looking for. She pulled out a small, clean, white lace handkerchief. It was very soft and smelled faintly of sweet soap.
She looked at the white lace, and then she looked back at his raw skin.
"I might as well just do this to protect the injury from infection," Camilla reasoned in her mind. Her training taught her that even a small cut could turn deadly if it got dirty. The carriage was dusty, and his hands were exposed.
She murmured under her breath, " He’s the male lead. He must be healthy for me to be able to leave." She let a soft sigh.
She decided to play the role of the caring wife. It was the safest way to keep the peace until they reached the mansion.
Camilla straightened her back. She gave him a small, polite, gentle smile.
"You look injured," Camilla said out loud. Her voice was soft and it broke the heavy silence of the carriage.
Damon did not raise his head immediately. He kept his eyes on the floor. He tightened his jaw. He wanted her to show real concern, not just state an obvious fact.
"It’s nothing," Damon replied. His deep voice was flat, cold, and stubborn.
Camilla stopped smiling. She rolled her eyes. She did not like his stubborn attitude.
"What do you mean it’s nothing," Camilla replied firmly. Her voice was no longer just polite. It carried a hint of strict authority.
She did not wait for him to argue. She placed her hands on the edge of her velvet seat. She pushed herself up. The carriage bumped over a small hole in the road, but she kept her balance perfectly.
She took one step across the narrow space between the seats. She turned her body and sat down heavily right next to him on his side of the carriage.
Because the seat was not very wide, their bodies were incredibly close. The silk of her dress pressed lightly against the rough, dark fabric of his attire.
Damon finally looked up. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. He did not expect her to move to his seat. He felt the sudden warmth of her body right next to his. His heart gave a hard, sudden thump against his ribs.
Camilla reached out her small, pale hands.
"It’s red and raw," She said clearly.
She gently but firmly took his large right hand in both of hers. Damon did not pull away. He let her hold his hand. Her fingers were very soft and cool against his hot, swollen skin.
She brought his injured hand closer to her face. She looked at the split skin and the dark, dried blood on his knuckles. It was a very bad bruise.
Camilla leaned her head down. She pursed her pink lips.
Very slowly, and very gently, she blew softly on his knuckles.
A cool, soothing stream of air washed over his raw skin. The gentle breath instantly cooled the burning pain in his hand.
Damon sat completely frozen on the velvet seat. He looked down at her. He watched her red curly hair falling over her shoulder. He watched her soft lips blowing cool air onto his dirty, violent hands.
He knew she was pretending. He knew she did not really love him. He could hear her practical, annoyed thoughts. He knew she was only doing this to fulfill the loving wife role.
But Damon did not care.
He sat there, feeling the soft touch of her hands holding his. He felt her warm breath. For his entire life, he had only known coldness, strict rules, and hard weapons. No one had ever tried to soothe his pain with such a soft, gentle action.
He loved that she cared, even if it was fake. He was starving for this kind of affection. The sulking completely melted away from his chest. He just wanted this quiet moment to last forever.
After blowing on the injury to clean away the loose dust, Camilla picked up her lace handkerchief.
She carefully laid the soft white cloth over his bruised knuckles. She wrapped the lace around his fingers, making sure the raw skin was completely covered and protected from the dirt of the carriage.
She moved her small fingers expertly. She tied the ends of the handkerchief securely into a neat, firm knot at the back of his hand.
She finished her work. She kept her hands resting lightly on top of his wrapped hand.
"Does it hurt?" Camilla asked softly.
She raised her head and looked up at him. Her hazel eyes met his deep brown eyes.
Damon looked down into her eyes. The space between their faces was very small. He looked deep into her gaze.
For a brief, confusing second, Damon’s mind went blank. He looked at her eyes, and he could swear that he saw real, genuine worry hiding in them. It did not look like her usual cold, blank stare. It looked like true concern for his well-being.
Damon’s mind raced. Was it real? Was she actually worried about his pain?
Or, he told himself, it was either he was just imagining it because he wanted it so badly, or she was really, really good with her acting.
He did not want to break the spell. He slowly shook his head from side to side.
"No," his silent shake communicated. It did not hurt anymore.
