Damon peeked through the doorway.

Camilla was sitting at the long wooden table. Standing right beside her were Mr. Murry and two young maids. They were all smiling widely, laughing together at her story. The atmosphere was warm, lively, and full of a happy family feeling that Damon had never experienced in his own house before.

But the moment Damon took a step forward and entered the dining room, the warm atmosphere shattered instantly.

The laughter died completely.

The two maids immediately stopped smiling. Their faces went pale, and they quickly lowered their heads, stepping back into the corners of the room to stand at perfect attention. Mr. Murry quickly adjusted his coat, wiped the smile off his face, and bowed deeply to the General.

"Welcome, My Lord," Murry said, his voice returning to its formal, serious tone.

Damon did not speak. His face was a cold, hard mask. He felt a sharp sting of disappointment. Why did they stop laughing when he arrived? Why did he have to be the source of silence in his own home?

Camilla turned her head slowly. She watched Damon walk toward the head of the table.

Inside her mind, her internal voice let out a highly sarcastic scoff.

"Oh, look," Camilla thought to herself, her eyes flat and unamused. "That’s it. The fun is officially over. They saw their oppressor walk into the room, and they composed themselves immediately. He is like a dark rain cloud that ruins a perfect sunny day."

Damon cleared his throat softly.

Ahem.

He walked to his chair at the head of the table and sat down. Camilla sat in her chair on his left.

"Serve the dinner," Damon ordered quietly.

"Right away, My Lord," Murry replied.

The maids moved quickly and silently. They set down the hot, steaming plates of food. There was roasted chicken, warm potatoes, and a bowl of fresh greens. They poured the water and the wine, bowed deeply, and quickly retreated from the room, leaving the married couple alone.

The dinner was silent.

The only sounds in the dining room were the quiet scraping of metal forks against the ceramic plates and the crackle of the fireplace in the corner.

Damon chewed his food slowly. He kept looking at Camilla from the corner of his eye. She was eating her roasted chicken with elegant manners, completely ignoring him. Her face was calm and unreadable.

Damon wanted to speak. He wanted to ask her about her day. But the silence between them was so thick that he did not know how to break it. He was terrified of saying the wrong thing and making her think he was a "cheap bastard" again.

So, he remained silent. He finished his meal in quiet torture, his chest feeling heavy and tight.

After the silent dinner was finally over, they stood up from the table.

Mr. Murry met them at the door, bowing respectfully. "Have a peaceful rest, My Lord, My Lady."

"Thank you,Uncle Murry," Damon said.

"Thank you, Uncle Murry," Camilla said.

Damon and Camilla walked side by side toward the grand staircase. They began to climb the stone steps slowly, heading back toward the second floor. The silence between them remained, stretching tightly.

Damon looked at her hand. Her small hand was resting lightly on the wooden railing as she climbed. Her movements were graceful.

Suddenly, a wave of confidence hit Damon’s chest. He did not want another night of sleeping on the hard floor while she thought he was cold and distant. He wanted to be close to her. He wanted to hear her call him by his name, even if it was just to tease him.

Damon reached out his large, warm hand.

He gently but firmly grabbed Camilla’s hand, wrapping his strong fingers around her wrist.

Camilla stopped walking instantly.

She stood frozen on the stone step. She slowly turned her body around to face him. Her eyes were incredibly wide with shock and confusion. She stared down at his hand holding her wrist, and then she looked up into his face.

She had never seen him act so boldly with her before. The cold boring husband had just initiated physical contact with her in the open hallway.

Damon saw her shocked, confused expression.

His sudden confidence evaporated instantly. His heart gave a terrified leap, and he quickly pulled his hand away from her wrist as if he had just been burned. He tucked his hands behind his back, looking deeply embarrassed.

"I am sorry," Damon spoke quickly. His deep voice was slightly rough and shaking just a tiny bit. He lowered his eyes to the stone step, unable to keep looking into her wide gaze.

"I am sorry for touching you without your prior consent," Damon apologized sincerely, his voice full of genuine regret. "I did not want to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable."

Camilla blinked. She did not say a word. She just watched him.

Damon took a slow, deep breath to steady his lungs. He forced himself to look back up, meeting her eyes. He decided to ask his question honestly, showing his vulnerability.

"I just wanted to ask..." Damon hesitated for a brief second before continuing. "I wanted to ask if I could sleep on the bed tonight."

He looked toward the dark hallway leading to their room.

"The floor near the wardrobe," Damon explained softly, his voice full of a quiet, pleading tone. "It is getting very cold at night. My back is starting to ache from the hard wood. I would appreciate it if we could share the mattress."

Camilla stood on the step above him. She looked at his tall, broad figure. She saw the soft, hopeful look in his dark brown eyes. He looked completely different from his usual self.

Camilla blinked her dark eyes twice.

Then, Camilla spoke. Her voice was very soft and calm.

"It is your room, My Lord," Camilla said simply. She offered him a very gentle, reassuring smile. "Of course you can sleep on the bed."

Damon stood on the stone stairs. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Hearing her simple agreement, a very wide, genuine smile spread slowly across his face. His dark brown eyes lit up with joy. The cold, strict walls around his heart completely melted away in the quiet hallway.

He looked at her, and felt a tiny spark of hope in their relationship.

"Thank you, Camilla," Damon whispered softly.

Camilla turned back around and continued climbing the stairs, her silk robe rustling gently. Damon followed right behind her, his steps light and his heart full of a quiet, warm peace.