Chapter 249: Chapter Two Hundred And Forty Eight
Her blue eyes widened in delight. Her heart began to hammer wildly against her ribs.
Inside her head, Isabel was screaming with triumphant joy.
"He smiled at me!" Isabel squealed loudly in her own mind. Her internal voice was doing a happy dance. "He actually smiled! And he called me thoughtful! It is finally working! He finally sees that I am so much better than that useless Camilla!"
A bright, burning blush spread rapidly across her cheeks, turning her face a deep shade of red. She was blushing too hard from the sudden, unexpected praise. She felt proud of herself.
Isabel lowered her head shyly, acting like a bashful, innocent maiden.
"My Lord, you jest," Isabel whispered sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes at the floor.
Damon watched her blush. His small smile vanished, instantly replaced by a look of cold stone.
"For being so thoughtful towards me," Damon spoke, his voice returning to its normal, deep, serious rumble. "I shall bestow upon you a reward."
Isabel’s head snapped up instantly. Her blue eyes sparkled with greedy, desperate excitement.
"A reward?" Isabel thought to herself, her mind racing with wild, romantic possibilities. "Is he going to give me a chance? Is he finally going to ask for a divorce so I can take my rightful place by his side? This is the best day of my life!"
Isabel leaned closer to the desk, her face glowing with eager anticipation. "You are too generous, General," she murmured happily.
Damon did not look at her. He turned his head slightly toward the entrance of the tent.
"Come in," Damon commanded loudly.
The white canvas flap was violently pushed aside.
Kade marched into the command tent. He was not alone. Kade was dragging a man behind him by a thick, rough rope tied securely around the man’s wrists.
The man looked terrible. His face was covered in dark purple bruises, and dried blood stained his chin. It was the spy who had confessed to tracking Camilla at the fabric store.
Kade dragged the struggling spy to the center of the room. With a harsh shove, Kade threw the man forcefully onto the floor directly in front of Isabel.
Thud.
The spy groaned in pain, landing heavily on his knees right near the hem of Isabel’s expensive dress.
Isabel gasped loudly. She jumped backward, completely shocked by the sudden, violent entrance. She looked down at the beaten, dirty man kneeling at her feet.
"You...?" Isabel began to speak. Her voice was high and panicked.
But as she looked closely at the spy’s bruised face, her brain finally recognized him. She froze. Her mouth snapped tightly shut. All the color instantly drained from her blushing cheeks, leaving her face as white as a ghost.
Damon sat behind his desk. He slowly crossed his right leg over his left knee. He leaned back in his chair, watching her panic with deep, dark amusement.
Damon let out a very low, cold chuckle. The sound was not happy. It was terrifying.
"Tell her what you told me yesterday," Damon ordered the spy. His voice was serious, leaving no room for hesitation.
The beaten spy looked up at Damon with terrified eyes. Then, he looked at Isabel. He swallowed hard and began to speak rapidly, desperate to save his own life.
"I was paid to watch Lady Camilla," the spy narrated quickly, his voice shaking with fear. "I was paid to follow her every single move in the capital city. I watched her go to the fabric store. I sent letters detailing everything she did. I handed the information over to a hooded man in the dark alley."
The spy lowered his head. "I delivered the anonymous letter to the camp to frame the Lady. I did exactly what I was paid to do."
After the spy finished his complete confession, the tent fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Damon uncrossed his legs. He sat forward, resting his hands on the desk. He turned his dark, piercing eyes directly onto Isabel.
"Do you know this man?" Damon asked her smoothly.
Isabel’s entire body began to tremble. Her heart pounded with terror. She panicked.
"No!" Isabel thought frantically in her mind. "I met him only once! When we were introduced to set up the payment. I was sitting inside an unmarked, dark carriage. I was properly covered with a heavy cloak. I did not show my face! I am absolutely sure he won’t recognize me!"
Isabel forced herself to stand up straight. She shook her head side to side rapidly, denying the fact with all her acting skills.
"No, My Lord," Isabel lied smoothly, her voice shaking just a tiny bit. She looked at Damon with wide, innocent eyes. "I have never seen this dirty man in my entire life. Why would I know a street thug?"
Damon stared at her. He listened to her lie. He nodded his head slowly. He did not look angry. He looked surprisingly calm.
"I see," Damon replied softly.
He turned his head away from Isabel. He looked down at the man kneeling on the floor.
"She said she doesn’t know you," Damon stated coldly to the spy. He shrugged his shoulders lightly, as if making a very simple, boring decision. "I guess I will have to kill you then. You are of no use to me."
The spy’s eyes widened in horror.
"No! Please!" the man screamed loudly.
He began to cry heavily, tears streaming down his bruised face. He slammed his forehead hard against the ground, bowing in desperate submission.
"Please spare me, General!" the spy begged, his voice cracking with agony. "I told you the truth! Please do not kill me! I beg of you!"
Damon watched the man cry. He waited for a few seconds, letting the fear build in the room.
"If you can prove yourself," Damon spoke slowly, his deep voice cutting through the man’s loud sobs. "I’ll rethink your punishment."
The spy stopped crying instantly. He lifted his tear-stained face from the floor. He saw a tiny glimmer of hope. He had to prove his worth, or he would die today.
The spy turned his head and looked at Isabel.
"The letter I wrote yesterday proves it!" the spy shouted desperately, pointing his tied hands toward the blonde noblewoman. "The letter was sent! And the one in charge is standing right here! It is her!"
Isabel’s face twisted into an ugly mask of rage. Her fear vanished, replaced by furious, arrogant panic. A dirty street rat was accusing her in front of the General!
"Shut your mouth!" Isabel screamed at the top of her lungs.
She lost all of her polite noble manners. She stomped forward aggressively. She raised her right hand high into the air and swung it down with all her might.
Smack!
She slapped the kneeling man hard across his bruised face.
The spy groaned, his head snapping to the side. But Isabel was not finished. She raised her hand and slapped him a second time.
Smack!
"You filthy liar!" Isabel yelled, her chest heaving inside her dress.
She turned away from the beaten man. She looked desperately at Damon sitting behind the desk.
"Don’t listen to him, my lord," Isabel pleaded frantically, trying to put her sweet mask back on. "He is just a desperate criminal trying to blame an innocent lady to save his own miserable life! He is lying!"
Damon sat still. He looked at Isabel’s flushed, angry face.
Damon did not say a word. He simply turned his head slightly to the left. He looked at Kade.
Damon gave Kade a single nod of his head.
Kade understood the silent command instantly. The aide stepped forward swiftly.
Kade drew a small, sharp dagger from his belt. He grabbed the ropes binding the spy’s wrists behind his back. With one quick, forceful slice, Kade cut the rope.
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