Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts-Chapter 43: ERROR DO NOT OPEN

The grand foyer was quiet again. The large crowd of servants had bowed low and quickly scattered, eager to get back to their chores and away from the General’s cold stare. Only a few guards remained standing by the heavy front doors.

Damon kept his face serious, but his mind was still reeling from the violent, terrifying thoughts he had just heard from his wife. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

Camilla was standing politely beside him. She had a soft, gentle smile on her face. Her hands were clasped neatly in front of her dark red silk dress. She looked like the perfect picture of an innocent, devoted noblewoman.

But inside her head, a completely different story was unfolding.

"Look at him," Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice dripping with heavy sarcasm and deep annoyance.

Damon flinched slightly. He stared straight ahead at the marble floor, forcing himself not to react.

"Look at him acting all high and mighty," Camilla’s thoughts continued to echo clearly in Damon’s mind. "He rolled in here with his wheelchair acting like a big hero. He probably thinks he just saved a poor, weak damsel in distress from a nasty bully."

Camilla let out a loud, internal scoff that sounded like a harsh bark of laughter.

"I was handling it perfectly on my own!" she thought proudly. "I had that arrogant maid exactly where I wanted her. Another two slaps, and she would have not been able to recognize herself in the mirror again. I did not need him to interrupt my fun just to show off his authority."

She shifted her weight slightly from one foot to the other. She kept her polite smile frozen on her face, but her mind was rolling its eyes.

"Men," she scoffed internally, lumping the great Tyrant General in with every other annoying man she had ever met. "They are all exactly the same. They always try to take control of the situation. They will only slow you down when you are trying to get real work done."

Damon’s jaw tightened. ’Real work?’ he thought defensively. ’Beating a maid until she bleeds on the marble floor is real work?’

Camilla slowly turned her head. She looked down at Damon sitting in his chair. She gave him a very sweet, very bright smile.

Damon looked back at her. He knew the smile was completely fake, but he could not deny that she looked incredibly beautiful in the morning sunlight.

Then, Camilla’s internal voice spoke again. This time, her tone completely changed. The annoyance was gone. It was replaced by a smooth, dark, and highly inappropriate laziness.

"Honestly," Camilla’s thoughts continued, her eyes slowly dropping from his face to his broad shoulders and his thick chest. "His only usefulness to me is his dick for sexual satisfaction and his perfectly built body."

Damon stopped breathing. His entire body went rigid. His dark eyes widened in absolute, pure shock.

He gripped the wooden armrests of his wheelchair so hard that the wood actually groaned under his strength. He had heard soldiers talk dirty in the camps. But to hear his own wife, who was currently smiling at him like an angel, casually evaluate him as a piece of meat was completely overwhelming.

"I mean, just look at him," Camilla thought lazily, completely unaware of the mental breakdown she was causing. "He is gorgeous. But he is so grumpy. It is really a shame."

She let out a soft, internal sigh of disappointment.

"I wish there were toys here in this historical world," she added in her mind. Her internal voice sounded very wistful and longing. She mentally smacked her lips together.

Smack.

"Yes. A modern, battery-operated toy. Now that would be absolutely divine. So much easier than dealing with a stubborn man."

Damon’s face instantly turned a dark, furious shade of red. The heat rushed all the way up his neck to the tips of his ears. His brain simply could not process the words he was hearing.

Toys? What kind of toys was she talking about? And why was she thinking about them right here, in the middle of the entrance hall?

He had to stop her thoughts. He had to break the silence before his head exploded from pure embarrassment.

"Ahem!" Damon coughed loudly. It was a harsh, fake cough that rattled in his chest.

He quickly looked away from Camilla’s smiling face. He waved his hand sharply toward the few remaining guards standing by the front doors.

"You all may go," Damon ordered. His voice was rough and a little bit higher than usual. "Return to your posts outside. I do not need you here."

"Yes, General!" the guards replied quickly.

They saluted and marched out the front doors, closing them firmly.

The large foyer was finally completely empty, except for Damon and Camilla.

Damon took a deep, shaky breath. He tried to calm his racing heart. He refused to look at his wife. He just stared at a crack in the marble floor.

A moment later, the side door opened. Kade walked back into the foyer. The aide had just finished organizing the morning patrols. He walked over to Damon’s wheelchair and stood at attention. His face looked very serious.

"My Lord," Kade said, bowing his head respectfully.

Damon felt a wave of relief. He was glad Kade was back. It gave him an excuse to focus on real, military business instead of his wife’s scandalous thoughts.

"What is it, Kade?" Damon asked, making his voice sound deep and commanding again.

"My Lord," Kade continued, lowering his voice slightly so his words would not echo in the large hall. "The guards just removed the body from the courtyard. Should I investigate the death of the assassin? Should I question the night watchmen to see how he entered the grounds?"

Camilla, who was still standing quietly beside the wheelchair, completely froze.

Her polite smile vanished instantly. Her eyes went wide. Her heart gave a sudden, hard thump against her ribs.

"Crap!" Camilla’s mind jolted with sudden panic. Her internal voice was loud and frantic.

Damon heard her sudden fear. He slowly turned his head to look at her. She was staring at Kade with wide, worried eyes.

"Will they find out it is me?" Camilla thought rapidly, her mind racing through the events of the previous night. "I dragged him across the floor. I pushed him over the balcony. Did I leave fingerprints? They do not have fingerprint technology here, do they? What if someone saw me?"

She quickly tried to defend herself in her own mind.

"But it is not my fault!" Camilla argued internally, sounding deeply offended by her own panic. "He came into my room with a pillow! He was going to smother me in my sleep! It was a pure kill-or-be-killed situation! Self-defense is completely legal!"

She took a slow, calming breath. She smoothed down the front of her red dress to hide her shaking hands. Her panic quickly turned into dark amusement.

"Anyway," Camilla thought, a cold, wicked smirk forming in her mind. "I am absolutely sure it is that witch Ida who sent him. She probably hired a cheap killer to finish me off while she was plotting against the General. Ha!"

Camilla’s internal voice laughed darkly. "Jokes on her! The assassin got his neck snapped, and Ida is dead! They are probably having a very awkward reunion in hell right now."

Damon sat completely still in his wheelchair.

He listened to her entire mental confession. He listened to her admit that she had killed the assassin. He listened to her correctly guess that Ida had sent the man. And he listened to her dark, twisted laughter about Ida’s death.

Damon slowly turned his head away from Camilla. He looked back at Kade. His face was a mask of cold, unreadable stone. He did not show a single hint of surprise.

"Don’t worry," Damon told Kade. His voice was calm and flat. "Do not waste your men on a dead rat."

Kade looked slightly confused. "But My Lord, an assassin breached our walls..."

Damon raised his hand to stop his aide from speaking. "I know who did it," Damon lied smoothly. He did not want Kade investigating Camilla. He did not want his men trying to arrest his own wife for murder, especially when she had only killed an enemy spy in self-defense.

"Let it slide," Damon ordered firmly. "Tell the guards to throw the body in the forest with the other trash. I do not want to hear another word about it today."

"Yes, General," Kade replied quickly, accepting the order without question.

Camilla, who was listening closely, looked down at Damon with pure, absolute shock.

Her eyes were wide open. Her delicate eyebrows pulled together in deep confusion.

"What?" Camilla thought to herself. Her internal voice was completely baffled. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

She stared at the back of Damon’s head. "He is totally unpredictable!" she thought wildly. "An assassin is found dead under his own roof, and he is just letting the person go? Without a single question? Without torturing a suspect?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, analyzing his strange behavior.

"Is it because he knows it was Ida who sent the man?" Camilla wondered internally. "Maybe he thinks Ida killed the assassin to tie up loose ends before she died? Yes, that must be it. His military brain is making completely wrong assumptions."

Camilla let her arms drop to her sides. She relaxed her shoulders.

"Well, I do not care," she thought, shrugging off the problem entirely. "As long as nobody is pointing a finger at me, he can think whatever he wants. It saves me the trouble of hiding a body in the garden."

Then, a sudden, bright thought flashed across her mind. It lit up her eyes like a spark of fire.

"Wait a minute," Camilla thought, her internal voice suddenly filling with exciting mischief.

Damon heard the change in her tone. The lazy, annoyed voice was gone. The new voice was sharp, playful, and completely dangerous.

"I haven’t tried my newfound ability on him yet," Camilla realized in her mind. A slow, wicked smile began to curl the corners of her pink lips.

She looked down at Damon sitting in his wooden wheelchair. She looked at his broad shoulders and his dark hair.

"Let us see what I can do to the great Tyrant General." She thought happily. "Let us test the limits of this ability on the strongest man in the kingdom."

Damon sat very still. He slowly raised one dark eyebrow.

"What is she up to again?" Damon thought to himself. He felt a tiny prickle of warning on the back of his neck. He knew she was planning something terrible. He braced himself for an attack. He waited for her to insult him or try to force him out of the chair.

But Camilla did not attack.

She stepped forward and stood directly beside his wheelchair. She smoothed her hands down her beautiful red dress. She put on her very best, most polite, innocent smile. She looked like a sweet, loving wife who only wanted to care for her injured husband.

"My Lord," Camilla spoke out loud. Her voice was incredibly soft, gentle, and as sweet as warm sugar.

Damon looked up at her carefully. He did not trust that sweet voice at all.

"The weather is so nice today," Camilla continued nicely, gesturing gracefully toward the large glass windows near the front doors. The sun was indeed shining brightly. "The fresh air would be very good for your healing leg. Shall I take you to the garden for a walk?"

She asked the question so nicely, with such innocent eyes, that anyone else would have believed she was an angel.

Damon stared at her smiling face. He knew she was plotting against him. A smart man would have said no. A smart man would have ordered Kade to push him back to his bedroom.

But Damon wanted to know exactly what he was dealing with.

He kept his face completely blank. He looked her right in the eye.

"Of course," Damon replied out loud. His voice was deep, calm, and perfectly polite. He accepted her dangerous invitation without a single hint of fear.

Kade, who had been standing nearby, quickly moved aside. He stepped back against the wall, leaving the heavy wooden handles of the wheelchair open for Camilla to take.

Camilla smiled even wider. Her eyes sparkled with mischievous victory. She stepped behind the large wooden wheelchair. She placed her small, pale hands firmly on the thick wooden handles.

She leaned forward slightly, preparing to push the heavy chair across the marble floor.

"This is going to be so much fun," Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice laughing with dark glee.

Damon sat straight in his chair. He rested his large hands casually on his lap. He did not look back at her. He looked straight ahead toward the large double doors that led out to the beautiful, sprawling gardens of the mansion.

"I would love to see," Damon thought to himself, his own mind sharp and calculating, "what other tricks you have up your sleeve, my dear wife. Bring it on."