Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 225: Chapter Two Hundred And Twenty Four

A full week had passed since Damon’s dramatic "fall" from his horse.

The busy, chaotic energy of the capital city had settled into a quiet, cool evening. Inside the Benson mansion, the hallways were still. The soft, warm yellow light from the oil lamps flickered gently against the stone walls.

After sharing a quiet dinner downstairs in the dining room, Damon and Camilla walked up the wide staircase together. They did not speak. There was still a very thick, silent tension between them, but it was no longer a hostile war. It was a quiet, awkward understanding.

They entered the master bedroom. The room was warm, lit by a single oil lamp resting on the small wooden table near the window.

Damon walked slowly over to the side of the large bed. He stood tall in the center of the room. He reached his large hands up to the collar of his white linen shirt. Slowly, he began to undo the buttons, letting the soft fabric fall open. He pulled the shirt off his broad shoulders, leaving his muscular chest bare.

Camilla walked over to him. She had already changed into her comfortable silk nightgown, her long red curly hair falling loosely over her shoulders.

She reached her hands out toward his left shoulder.

"Stay still," Camilla said out loud. Her voice was calm and steady.

She reached her small fingers toward the bandages wrapped around his shoulder. She gently untied the neat knot she had made the night before. Moving with extreme care, she slowly unrolled the white cloth, layer by layer, exposing his skin to the cool air of the room.

Damon stood still. He did not move a single muscle. He looked down at the top of her red head as she worked.

The feeling of her cool, soft fingers brushing gently against his warm skin sent a soft, pleasant shiver straight down his spine. He loved this daily routine. For the past week, he had looked forward to this exact moment every single evening. He loved having her touch him. He loved the quiet closeness.

Camilla finished unrolling the final layer of the bandage. She tossed the dirty cloth onto the table.

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes examining his left shoulder very closely.

The skin where the small scratch had been was healed. There was absolutely no redness, no swelling, and no trace of blood. The skin was smooth and healthy, showing only the faint, older white scars he had earned from real battles.

Camilla let out a long, quiet sigh. She stepped back from his chest.

She looked him right in the eye.

"You can go to the camp tomorrow," Camilla said.

Hearing her words, Damon’s heart gave a sudden thump of disappointment. The warm feeling in his chest vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, heavy lump of sadness.

He did not want to go back to the camp.

"Tomorrow?" Damon thought to himself, his eyes searching her calm face. "Already? It has only been a week. The injury is healed, but... I don’t want to leave this room. I don’t want to go back to the dusty barracks, the loud soldiers, and the cold, lonely tents. I want to stay here with her."

He wanted to find an excuse. He wanted to tell her that his shoulder still ached, or that he felt a sudden fever, or that he needed one more day of her gentle care.

But he had a duty to oversee his troops. He could not ignore his responsibilities for a selfish desire. He had to be strong.

Damon slowly, reluctantly nodded his head.

"I understand," Damon said out loud. His deep voice was very quiet and slightly rough.

He reached down and picked up his white shirt from the chair. He pulled it back over his broad chest, covering his bare skin.

He looked at Camilla. He wanted to show her his gratitude. He wanted to reward her for taking such good care of him over the past week, even if his injury had been mostly a fake performance to get her close.

"Thank you for your care these days," Damon spoke softly. His dark eyes softened as he looked at her.

He took a slow step closer to her.

"Do you need anything?" Damon asked.

It was Camilla’s turn to stand still. Her eyes blinked once.

Inside her mind, her internal voice exploded with sudden surprise, and cynical confusion.

"Wait," Camilla thought to herself, her mental voice sounding shocked. "Did I hear him correctly?i get rewarded for taking care of him?"

She stared at his face.

"I just wiped some dirt off his shoulder and changed some bandages for a week," her thoughts continued, a slow, greedy excitement rising rapidly in her mind. "And he is offering me a reward? This is the easiest, most profitable job I have ever had! The Benson family is truly a massive gold mine!"

Camilla quickly controlled her facial expressions. She kept her face blank, but she raised a single, delicate eyebrow at him.

"Anything?" Camilla asked out loud, her voice trailing off in a teasing question.

Damon looked at her raised brow. A very small, genuine smile touched the corners of his lips. He liked seeing her interested.

"Anything," Damon confirmed firmly, nodding his head. He placed his hands behind his back, standing tall. "If it is in my power, I will make it happen."

Camilla took a slow step closer to him. She tilted her head to the side, looking at him with a sharp, calculating gaze.

"And if it is not in your power?" Camilla asked smoothly.

Damon did not flinch. He looked her directly in the eye. His voice was full of devotion.

"I will do everything to make it happen," Damon promised her softly, his voice dropping into a deep, serious whisper. "As long as you want it."

Camilla’s eyes sparkled with a very dangerous, excited light. She wanted to lock him into his promise.

"Don’t go back on your word," Camilla warned him, her voice carrying a playful, sharp edge.

Damon let out a soft, quiet chuckle.

"I am a man of honor," He replied firmly, his eyes shining with pride. "I always honor my words."

Camilla did not waste a single second. She knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted real wealth. She wanted something that would secure her future completely Incase she couldn’t leave the book.

"I want one of your mines," Camilla declared out loud. Her voice was steady.