Chapter 153: Chapter Hundred And Fifty Two

Damon felt a sudden, strange shift in his chest. The initial shock of her insults slowly melted away.

Damon gave a small, subtle smile. The corners of his lips curled up just a tiny bit. He realized that she was playing a very clever, very dramatic game. And since he had promised to keep her secret and act along with her, he decided he would not let her call him stingy anymore. He was a Benson. He was wealthy. Since she wants money, he would show her exactly how generous he could be.

He slowly reached his hand toward the pocket of his dark trousers.

He took a clean, soft white silk handkerchief from his pocket. It was perfectly folded and smelled faintly of lavender.

Damon took a step forward, closing the small distance between them. He reached out and took hold of Camilla’s right hand. He held her hand very gently, cradling her small palm in his large, calloused fingers. His touch was incredibly warm and light.

Camilla immediately froze.

She looked down at his large hand holding hers. Her body went completely stiff against the rough canvas wall of the supply tent. Her eyes narrowed slightly, looking at him with deep, intense suspicion.

"What does he want to do?" Camilla thought to herself. Her internal voice was sharp, highly alert, and completely on guard.

"Why is he holding my hand so gently?" her thoughts raced rapidly. "Is he trying to find my pressure points? Is he checking my pulse to see if I am lying? Or is he planning to use some strange military lock to pin me to the ground? I must be very careful. If he tries anything funny, I will use my knee to teach his groin a painful lesson."

Damon heard her suspicious thoughts. He had to force himself not to laugh out loud. She was always so ready to fight, even when he was just trying to be a good husband.

Damon did not let go of her hand. He slowly unfolded the clean white handkerchief with his other hand.

He began to wipe off the gray dust, the white chalk, and the dirt from her palms and her small fingers. He moved the soft silk cloth very gently over her skin, cleaning away the mess she had made when she aggressively "cleaned" her hands on his expensive coat.

Damon spoke in a very soft, calm voice as he wiped her hands.

"Grandfather is hosting a grand ball next week," Damon said. He did not look up. He kept his eyes focused on her dirty knuckles, carefully wiping a dark smudge off her index finger. "We will need to go to the old Benson’s estate in the northern province."

Camilla did not answer. She just watched him clean her hands. The feeling of the soft silk cloth and his warm, strong fingers against her skin was very strange. It was surprisingly comfortable.

Damon finished wiping her right hand. He gently set it down and picked up her left hand. He began to clean the dirt off her other palm with the same slow, careful movements.

He looked up. His dark brown eyes locked directly onto her wide eyes. His face was completely serious, but his gaze was filled with a deep, quiet intensity.

"Don’t get hurt," Damon said softly. His deep voice carried a very clear, highly protective warning.

He wiped a small line of dirt near her wrist.

"Take care of yourself," Damon continued, his voice dropping into a low, serious whisper. "If you get hurt, or if you look sick when we arrive... grandfather won’t let me off. He will be extremely furious with me for failing to protect his favorite granddaughter-in-law."

He was telling the truth. The old Duke Carson cared for Camilla deeply. If she showed up to the old estate with bruises or scratches from her secret combat training, the old Duke would take his silver cane and beat Damon himself.

But the physical contact was becoming too much for Camilla.

Damon’s touch on her hands was much longer than expected. He kept holding her soft fingers, gently rubbing his thumb over her skin even after the dirt was completely gone. His large hands felt incredibly warm, and his close presence was overwhelming.

Camilla felt her heart give a sudden, violent thump against her ribs.

She quickly withdrew her hands from his warm grip. She pulled her arms back to her chest, hiding her fingers in her loose grey sleeves. She took a half-step away from him, her back pressing hard against the canvas tent.

She chuckled nervously.

"Ha... haha."

"I am perfectly fine, My Lord," Camilla said out loud, forcing her voice to sound sweet, cute, and completely helpless again. "I am very careful. I will make sure I look absolutely perfect for grandfather’s ball. You don’t have to worry about your grandfather’s anger."

But inside her head, her thoughts were in a complete state of panic.

"What is wrong with him?" Camilla’s thoughts screamed wildly. Her internal voice was breathing heavily. "Why did he hold my hands for so long? His hands are so warm. It felt like my skin was on fire. I should not feel flustered by a simple hand-wiping! My heart is beating way too fast. This is highly dangerous. I need to get away from him right now."

Damon stood in the narrow space. He looked at her flushed face. He heard her panicked thoughts. He felt a very deep sense of satisfaction. He liked knowing that his simple touch could make his wicked wife lose her cool composure.

Damon did not push her any further. He knew she had a limit.

He stepped closer to her. He slowly raised his large hands and reached out toward her head.

Camilla flinched slightly, but she stayed still.

Damon adjusted her messy brown wig very gently. He used his fingers to pull the edges of the rough, chopped hair down, making sure to completely hide the few bright red, curly strands of her natural hair that had started to peek out during her fight in the training ring. He made sure her disguise was perfectly in place so no regular soldier would notice.

"There," Damon whispered softly, his hands dropping back to his sides. "Now you look like a proper scrawny boy again."

He turned around.

"Go back to the arena," Damon ordered her firmly, returning to his cold, commanding military tone. "The instructor is waiting for you. I will see you at the mansion tonight."

Without waiting for her to answer, Damon marched out of the narrow, shadowed space between the tents.

Outside the supply tents, the bright afternoon sun hit Damon’s face. The cool wind blew his dark blue military coat behind him.

Kade, who had been standing guard at the entrance, immediately fell into step behind his right shoulder. The loyal aide walked quietly, his hands resting on his sword belt.

Damon walked through the busy camp with long strides. He looked completely serious, but his mind was fully focused on his wife’s earlier complaints.

"She thinks I am stingy," Damon thought to himself. His jaw tightened slightly. "She thinks I won’t spend a single copper coin on her."

He felt a strong wave of pride rising in his chest. He owned vast territories, massive forests, and successful diamond mines. He had more gold in his private vault than some of the small kingdoms. He was absolutely not a cheap man.

If she wanted to go shopping, he would give her enough gold to buy the entire market. If she wanted beautiful dresses for the ball, he would make sure she had the most expensive silk in the capital city. He would prove to her, once and for all, that he was a very generous husband.

Damon stopped walking near the main command building. He turned around to face his loyal aide.

Damon spoke to Kade, his voice deep and commanding.

"Kade," Damon said.

Kade immediately stood at attention, bowing his head. "Yes, My Lord?"

"Send the lady some money," Damon ordered smoothly. He kept his face completely blank, but his dark eyes were serious. "Send a large chest of gold to her room at the mansion. Something enough for her to shop as she wants. Tell the butler to let her buy whatever she desires for the upcoming ball."

Kade blinked in surprise. He looked at the General.

A year ago, Damon would never have thought about sending his wife money for shopping. He had ignored her completely. But now, the General was personally making sure she had gold to spend.

A very warm, happy smile spread across Kade’s face. The loyal aide felt deeply relieved. He truly believed the young couple was finally learning to love each other.

Kade spoke, his voice full of gentle, respectful happiness.

"The lady will definitely be pleased when she finds out, My Lord," Kade said, bowing his head. "She has been so quiet and sad in the past. When she receives this gold, she will be able to feel your true kindness and your deep care towards her."

Damon listened to Kade’s words.

"Really?" Damon thought to himself.

He imagined Camilla’s face when she opened a large chest of gold coins. He knew she loved money. He had seen her eyes sparkle when she won the hundred thousand gold coins at the death match. He knew she would be absolutely thrilled to have more gold, even if she secretly thought he was a "gullible boy."

Damon slowly smiled. It was a very small, proud, and highly satisfied smile. His chest puffed out slightly under his uniform.

"Do you think so, Kade?" Damon asked softly, his deep voice carrying a hint of proud amusement.

Kade nodded his head firmly.

"Yes, my lord," Kade replied with absolute certainty. "A lady always appreciates a generous, caring husband. She will definitely know how much you value her."

Inside the narrow space between the supply tents, Camilla stood alone.

She looked at her clean hands. The dirt was completely gone, and her skin still felt slightly warm from his gentle touch.

"He really is a very strange, unpredictable man," Camilla whispered to herself, let out a confused sigh.