Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts-Chapter 55 - Fifty Four

Camilla walked over to the small silver bell on her bedside table. She picked it up and rang it firmly.

Ding, ding, ding.

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door. The head butler entered the room. He walked with his hands held neatly behind his back. He stopped a few feet away from her and bowed deeply.

"Yes, my lady," the butler said respectfully. His voice was calm and professional.

Camilla turned to face him. She kept her face completely serious. "Get me a male attire," she spoke clearly.

The old butler froze. His eyes widened slightly. He blinked a few times, trying to understand if he had heard her correctly.

"My lady?" the butler asked, sounding very confused.

Camilla did not smile. She repeated her words exactly as before, making her voice a little firmer. "Get me a male attire."

The butler shook his head quickly. He took a small step backward. His professional calm expression was breaking. "My lady, I can’t," he replied nervously.

Camilla raised a dark eyebrow. She tilted her head slightly. "Why not?" she asked.

The butler looked around the room, as if the walls were listening to them. "It is highly improper," the butler explained, his voice shaking just a little bit. "A noble lady cannot wear the clothes of a man. It goes against all the strict rules of this household and the capital city. If the General finds out..."

Camilla nodded her head slowly. She understood his fear. Damon was a terrifying master, and the servants were afraid of being punished. But Camilla did not have time to argue about fashion rules. A man’s life was in danger, and she needed to move quickly.

"Very well," Camilla said smoothly. "Get someone to get a male attire. I would need it in the next hour."

The butler was visibly scared. His hands were shaking slightly. Camilla could easily sense his panic. She knew he was remembering how she had brutally slapped the bold maid in the foyer. He was terrified of making her angry, but he was also terrified of breaking the rules and making Damon angry.

Camilla let out a soft breath. She smiled a gentle, reassuring smile to calm him down.

"It’s alright," She said softly. Her voice was comforting, like a mother talking to a worried child. "If anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility. You will not be blamed."

She stepped a little closer to him. She lowered her voice into a quiet, secret whisper.

"If I’m not back before dinner," Camilla instructed him, "tell the General I ran away. I’m sure he will believe that without a single doubt."

She smiled a dark, secret smile. She knew Damon thought she was crazy and desperate to leave. Running away made perfect sense for her character.

"But before then," Camilla added strictly, looking the butler right in the eye, "don’t tell anyone. This is our secret."

The butler swallowed hard. He looked at her dark, serious eyes. He knew he had no choice. He bowed his head low in defeat.

"As you wish, my lady," the butler replied. He turned around quickly and hurried out of the room to follow her strange order.

Camilla waited patiently. In a few minutes, the door opened slightly. A small bundle of rough cloth was pushed inside, and the door was quickly closed.

Camilla walked over and picked up the bundle. She opened it on her large bed. It was exactly what she needed. It was a male’s clothing.

There was a pair of sturdy dark brown trousers, a loose grey tunic made of rough linen, and a thick leather belt. Sitting next to the clothes was a pair of worn, flat leather boots and a dull brown cloth cap.

She did not waste a single second. She quickly took off her silk dress. She folded the expensive dress and put it away. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

She dressed herself in the male clothing. She pulled on the dark trousers and tightened the leather belt around her small waist. She pulled the loose grey tunic over her head. The tunic was a bit large, which was perfect. It hid the shape of her body completely. She pushed her feet into the leather boots. They were a little big, but she tied the laces very tight so she could run if she needed to.

Finally, she walked over to the tall mirror. She took her long,red , beautiful hair and twisted it tightly behind her head. She hid all her hair under the dull brown cap, pulling the brim down low over her forehead.

She looked at her reflection. Staring back at her was a poor, dirty-looking boy. She looked exactly like a common kitchen boy or a stable hand who shoveled horse manure. It was the perfect disguise. No one in the wealthy upper city would look twice at her.

But Camilla was a master assassin. She always planned ahead.

"When I come back," Camilla thought to herself, "I cannot walk through the front doors of this mansion looking like a dirty peasant boy. What if Damon suddenly comes home or even Kade?"

She walked over to her closet. She took out a simple, dark green day gown. She rolled the gown up into a tight, neat bundle.

She opened the glass doors and stepped out onto her balcony. She looked over the stone railing. Directly below her balcony were thick, tall, dense green bushes.

She leaned over and carefully dropped the rolled-up gown down into the center of the bushes. It landed softly, completely hidden by the dark green leaves. She would change back into her dress in the garden when she returned tonight.

Camilla left her bedroom. She did not use the grand front staircase. She used the narrow, dark back stairs meant for the servants. The hallways were empty. She kept her head down and walked quickly.

She went downstairs and slipped out the back door of the mansion. She walked across the dirt paths toward the large wooden stables at the back of the estate.

The stables smelled strongly of hay, leather, and horses. A few stable boys were busy on the other side of the building, washing a carriage. They did not notice the small kitchen boy walking down the row of horse stalls.

Camilla walked past the gentle carriage horses. She went straight to the large, private stalls where Damon kept his horses. She knew these horses were fast, strong, and trained not to handle pressure.

She found a tall, powerful black horse. She opened the wooden gate calmly. Because she moved with pure confidence, the horse did not make a sound. She expertly grabbed a heavy leather saddle and threw it over the horse’s broad back. She tightened the straps quickly.

She led the tall black horse out the back of the stables. She used a small wooden barrel to help her mount the tall animal. She grabbed the leather reins.

With a sharp click of her tongue, she urged the horse forward. She rode off into the bright afternoon sunlight.

Camilla rode out of the Benson estate through a small side gate. She rode quickly through the clean, wide, paved streets of the upper city.

The rich merchants and nobles in their fine carriages completely ignored the dirty boy riding the fast horse.

She followed the winding roads downward. The air slowly began to change. The clean smell of flowers and fresh bread faded away. It was replaced by the sour smell of stale beer, rotting garbage, and unwashed bodies. The wide paved roads turned into narrow, muddy dirt streets.

She had reached the lower city.

The houses here were made of cheap, rotting wood. The people on the streets looked poor, tired, and angry. Beggars sat in the dark alleys. Drunk men slept in the mud.

Camilla kept her cap pulled low. She rode slowly now, looking at the broken wooden signs hanging above the doors of the dirty buildings.

Finally, she saw a large, ugly wooden building at the end of a dark street. The windows were small and covered with thick iron bars.

Hanging above the heavy wooden door was a sign painted with faded letters: Old Man’s Rye Tavern.