Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts-Chapter 26 - Twenty Six

The heavy doors of the master bedroom closed firmly. Camilla and Isabel were finally gone. The room was quiet again.

Damon let out a long, heavy breath. He rested his head back against the thick wooden headboard. He felt completely exhausted. His mind was racing with everything that had just happened. He had ripped up the divorce papers. He had seen Camilla dodge an attack like a trained warrior. And worst of all, he was still hearing her loud, complaining thoughts inside his own head.

Doctor Aris placed his worn leather medical bag on the small table next to the bed. He opened the metal clasp with a soft click. He took out a clean white cloth and a small glass bottle of medicine.

Before the doctor could even touch the bandages on his leg, Damon sat up slightly. He looked at the older man with deep, serious eyes.

"Doctor Aris," Damon asked, his voice low and tight. "Did you find out what is wrong with me? During your checkup yesterday, did I injure my head when I fell from the horse?"

Doctor Aris stopped what he was doing. He looked at the General. He saw the genuine worry written across Damon’s strong face. The doctor reached into his bag and pulled out a small, round magnifying glass.

"Let me look, My Lord," the doctor said gently.

He leaned forward. He used his fingers to gently open Damon’s eyelids wider. He checked the pupils of Damon’s dark eyes. Then, the doctor carefully moved his hands over Damon’s thick black hair, pressing his fingers firmly against the General’s skull to check for any hidden bumps, cuts, or bruises.

After a full minute of careful checking, Doctor Aris stepped back. He smiled warmly.

"My Lord, the only injury you sustained is on your leg," the doctor replied in a calm, confident voice. "Your head is perfectly fine. There is no swelling. There is no bleeding. Your eyes are clear and sharp."

The doctor looked down at the thick white bandages wrapped around Damon’s left leg. "And your leg is healing fast," he added cheerfully. "You are a very strong man. With your good health, you should be able to stand on your own in a few days. There is absolutely no other problem with the rest of your body."

Damon did not smile. He did not feel relieved. If his head was perfectly fine, then why was he hearing his wife’s thoughts? Magic was not real. Spells were just stories for children. There had to be a medical reason for this madness.

Damon looked at the closed bedroom door to make sure the guards were not listening. Then, he raised his right hand. He signaled the doctor to lean closer. He curled his fingers inward, waving the old man forward.

Doctor Aris looked confused, but he obeyed. He leaned his upper body over the bed, bringing his ear close to Damon’s mouth.

Damon swallowed hard. He felt a deep sense of shame. He was the fearless Tyrant General. He commanded thousands of men. He was not supposed to have weaknesses. But he needed answers.

Damon whispered very softly, making sure no one else could hear him. "I can hear someone’s thoughts."

Doctor Aris froze. He slowly pulled his head back. He stood up straight. He looked down at Damon. His bushy white eyebrows pulled together in deep concern.

"Really?" the doctor asked. His voice was no longer cheerful. It sounded very careful, like he was talking to a frightened child.

Damon nodded his head slowly. "Yes," he confirmed. His dark eyes were completely serious. "Loud and clear. Like the person is standing right next to me and shouting into my ear."

Doctor Aris stared at the General for a long time. The room was very quiet. The doctor let out a long, heavy sigh. He looked at his medical bag, and then he looked back at Damon.

"Then..." the doctor started to say, choosing his words very carefully. "I will call my brother to attend to you this afternoon, My Lord."

Damon frowned. "Your brother? Is he a better bone doctor?" 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Doctor Aris shook his head sadly. He clasped his hands together in front of his chest. "No, My Lord. My brother does not fix bones. He works in the special hospital in the capital city. He specializes with the mind."

Damon’s face instantly turned dark. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

He knew exactly what the doctor meant. The special hospital in the capital city was an asylum. It was a place where they locked up crazy people, people who talked to the walls, and people who heard voices that were not really there.

Damon’s hands curled into tight fists. He glared at the older man.

"I am not crazy," Damon growled. His voice was a low, dangerous threat.

Doctor Aris quickly took a step back. He realized he had made a terrible mistake. You do not tell the Tyrant General that he is losing his mind.

The doctor quickly bowed at the waist, bending almost in half. "I am sorry! I am so sorry for speaking out of turn, My Lord!" he apologized rapidly. His hands were shaking.

"Please forgive an old man’s foolish words! You are perfectly sane. It must just be the stress of the accident playing tricks on your tired mind!"

Damon kept glaring at him for another second. Finally, he let out a sharp breath. He uncurled his fists and rested his hands flat on the mattress.

"Just do your job," Damon ordered coldly. "Fix my leg."

"Yes, My Lord! Right away, My Lord!" Doctor Aris squeaked. He quickly turned his attention to the bandages, opening his glass bottles and keeping his mouth tightly shut. He did what he came there for, too terrified to say another word.

Outside the master bedroom, the hallway of the Benson mansion was wide and filled with morning light.

Camilla and Isabel were walking side by side toward the massive front staircase. Their footsteps echoed loudly against the smooth stone floor.

Isabel had completely recovered from her embarrassment inside the bedroom. Now that the General was not watching her, she put her arrogant, proud face back on. She walked with her chin held high, making sure her expensive pink dress swished loudly with every step she took.

Camilla walked slowly. She kept her hands at the back of her dress. She looked completely uninterested in the beautiful paintings on the walls or the expensive vases on the small tables. She was still very angry about the torn divorce papers. She was mentally calculating how many days it would take to force Damon to write a new agreement.

Isabel looked sideways at Camilla. She hated how calm Camilla looked. Isabel wanted to make Camilla feel small, poor, and useless.

She reached into a small pouch tied to her waist. With a swift, proud motion, she pulled out a beautiful folding fan. She snapped it open with a loud crack.

"Do you see this?" Isabel asked, her high-pitched voice echoing in the hallway.

She raised her fan for Camilla to see. She waved it slowly right in front of Camilla’s face.

The fan was truly beautiful. It was made of soft white silk. The wooden sticks holding the silk were painted with shiny gold paint. But the most important part was the edge.

"This is what is in trend this season," Isabel bragged, smiling a very smug smile. She pointed a perfectly clean finger at the top of the fan. "It might look too simple to someone who does not understand fashion, but it is inlaid with precious stones. Real blue sapphires and tiny white diamonds. It was specially made for me in the capital."

Isabel waited for Camilla to look jealous. She waited for Camilla to gasp at the shiny jewels.

Camilla slowly turned her head. She looked at the fan for exactly two seconds. Her face remained completely blank. She did not blink. She did not gasp. She looked away and continued walking forward.

Inside her mind, however, Camilla was rolling her eyes so hard they almost hurt.

"Spoilt brat!" Camilla thought to herself. Her internal voice was full of deep mockery. "Showing off her family wealth like it actually means something. Does she really think a few shiny rocks on a piece of wood are impressive?"