Uncle Murry was no longer just smiling.

He was grinning from ear to ear. His smile was so massive it looked like it was going to break his face in half. His eyes were sparkling with absolute, undeniable joy.

His imagination went completely wild.

"Oh my heavens!" Murry cheered inside his own mind. He clutched the empty soup bowl to his chest like a holy treasure.

He pictured the scene in his head. He imagined Camilla arriving at the military camp in her beautiful yellow dress. He imagined her feeding the hot, potent soup to the General inside his private tent.

"Maybe this batch of soup was a little too strong," Murry thought to himself, biting his inner lip to stop himself from laughing out loud with pure joy.

He looked at Camilla’s tired face. He looked at her slightly messy red hair. He looked at the way she was rubbing her forehead, looking physically exhausted.

Murry’s old mind jumped to the most scandalous, wonderful conclusion possible.

"They must have been intimate right there at the military camp!" Murry concluded in his thoughts. His internal voice was practically singing. "The herbs worked instantly! The General’s body reacted powerfully! She said she was stressed trying to calm him down! And now she is physically tired!"

He looked at her with deep, profound respect.

"It is working," Murry thought, tears of happiness actually forming in the corners of his old eyes. "The old Duke’s plan is working perfectly. The marriage is saved! They are acting like wild rabbits!"

Camilla noticed Murry staring at her with a very strange, intensely happy grin on his face. She thought he was just being a very polite, friendly servant.

"Anyway," Camilla continued, wanting to get upstairs and relax. "Can you tell the maids to draw me a hot bath?"

"Immediately, My Lady!" Murry replied, his voice full of eager energy. A hot bath to soothe her tired muscles after a passionate afternoon! It made perfect sense!

"And bring some pastries to my room," Camilla added. She was feeling a little bit hungry after all the drama.

Then, she paused. She thought about the heavy, dark tea they always drank in this historical world. She did not want hot tea. She wanted something fresh and sweet.

"And..." Camilla paused, thinking about the modern world she had left behind. "Is it possible for me to have a glass of juice?"

Uncle Murry blinked. His massive grin faltered for just a tiny second. He tilted his head slightly.

"Juice?" Murry asked, his voice filled with polite confusion.

In this specific historical time period, people drank water, milk, wine, or hot tea. The concept of squeezing sweet fruits into a cold drink to have with a snack was not a very common request in a strict, military household.

Camilla nodded her head eagerly.

"Yes," Camilla explained, gesturing with her hands to mimic squeezing an orange. "Freshly pressed fruits. Like oranges or sweet grapes. Just squeeze the liquid out into a glass. It is very refreshing."

Murry understood immediately. If the Lady wanted squeezed fruits after her exhausting afternoon with the General, she would get exactly what she wanted.

"It will be done right away, My Lady," Uncle Murry replied, bowing very deeply. "I will have the kitchen staff prepare the sweetest fruits we have in the cellar."

Camilla smiled. "Thank you, Uncle Murry."

She turned around and began to walk toward the staircase. She placed her hand on the smooth, polished wooden railing. She lifted the front of her yellow silk skirt slightly so she would not trip on the stairs.

As she placed her foot on the first step, Murry remembered an important message that had arrived just a few minutes ago.

"Oh, before I forget, My Lady," Uncle Murry spoke out loud, calling after her gently.

Camilla paused on the stairs and looked back over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"The General sent word," Murry announced. His voice was very soft and understanding. "A messenger arrived from the barracks. The General said he won’t be home for dinner tonight. He will be staying at the camp."

Camilla did not look disappointed at all. In fact, her face lit up with a look of pure, peaceful relief.

"I know," Camilla replied smoothly as she turned back around and continued walking up the stairs. "He’s busy."

She kept climbing the stairs, her steps feeling lighter and happier.

"Isn’t it how he always does?" Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice completely uncaring. "He is always hiding in that camp with his swords and his horses."

She reached the landing and turned toward the hallway that led to the master bedroom.

"I don’t even want him to come home," she continued thinking, a wide smile spreading across her face. "I just want to enjoy that massive, incredibly soft bed all to myself tonight. No awkward staring. Just me, my pastries, and my fruit juice."

Back down in the foyer, Uncle Murry stood holding the empty soup package. He watched her walk up the stairs with a calm, accepting expression on her face.

Once again, Uncle Murry was misunderstanding the situation entirely.

He heard her say, I know. He’s busy. He saw that she was not angry or throwing a tantrum like she used to do a year ago. She was acting incredibly mature and understanding.

"He must have been too tired and swarmed with extra work," Murry reasoned in his own mind, nodding his head sagely. "The soup gave him energy for the afternoon, but now the poor General is completely exhausted. He must have told her himself at the camp that he won’t be coming home."

Murry’s heart swelled with even more joy.

"They are communicating!" Murry thought, looking up toward the empty staircase. "They are now having normal, healthy conversations like a real married couple! She understands his military duties, and he sends her messages. It is beautiful."

Murry clutched the ceramic bowl tighter. He could already imagine the letter he was going to write tonight.

"The old Duke will be absolutely delighted by this news," Murry whispered to himself. "I must send a raven to the main estate immediately. I will tell the Duke that the marriage is fully consummated and the young couple is perfectly happy."

Murry turned back toward the dining room, his chest puffed out with absolute pride. He called out loudly to the empty stairs, making sure Camilla heard him before she closed her door.

"I will go and ready all you asked for immediately, My Lady!" Murry called out, his voice practically singing with joy. "The hot bath and the pressed fruits will be brought up shortly!"

From the top of the stairs, Camilla’s sweet, cheerful voice echoed back down into the grand foyer.

"Thank you, Uncle Murry!" Camilla replied happily.