Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

"Damon," she whispered softly. Her voice was no longer sharp, cold, or commanding. It was soft and sweet.

She took his warm palm and held it gently against her own cheek, leaning her face into his touch as if drawing strength from his skin.

"When are you going to wake up?" she asked softly, staring at his closed eyelids and long dark eyelashes. She felt a warm tear threaten to spill from her eye, but she blinked it away quickly, refusing to cry. "I miss you."

She sat there in silence for several minutes, holding his warm hand against her cheek.

Just then, a soft, respectful knock came from the bedroom door.

Camilla did not take her eyes off Damon’s face. She kept his warm palm resting against her cheek and spoke quietly toward the door.

"Come in."

The door swung open quietly. Kade stepped into the master bedroom. He took a few quiet, cautious steps forward across the rug, stopping a respectful distance away from the edge of the bed.

Kade dropped down onto one knee against the floorboards. He placed his right hand over his chest and bowed his head low toward her.

"My lady," Kade greeted respectfully, his voice low.

Camilla remained seated by the bedside, her face still leaning against Damon’s palm.

"How are you, Kade?" Camilla asked softly.

Kade froze for a tiny second, his body tensing under his uniform. He was visibly surprised by the gentle care and warmth in her voice. He had expected her to be cold, demanding, or distant as usual, but instead, her very first words to him were asking about his personal well-being.

Kade cleared his throat slightly, keeping his head bowed low. "I am fine, my lady."

"And your injuries?" Camilla asked again, her tone genuinely concerned.

"They were only small scratches and minor cuts, my lady," Kade replied quickly. "They were properly cleaned and taken care of by Doctor Aris last night."

Camilla nodded gently, her eyes softening, her fingers stroking Damon’s hand. "What about the driver?"

"He is fine as well, my lady," Kade answered without hesitation. "He is currently resting in his quarters down in the servants’ wing."

"That’s good," Camilla said softly, looking at Damon’s peaceful face. "You can rise."

Kade stood up smoothly, keeping his hands clasped behind his back in a formal military stance. "Thank you for your concern, my lady."

Camilla raised her free hand and gently pushed a stray lock of dark hair away from Damon’s pale forehead. Her touch was full of care.

Kade took a slow breath and began his official report. "The men at the military camp are recovering quickly and the guards have been doubled around the entire estate grounds. As for the camp duties and logistics—"

"I believe your judgment concerning the camp, Kade," Camilla interrupted smoothly, her voice calm, clear, and firm. "Do what you need to do."

It was obvious to Kade that she had no interest in involving herself with military paperwork, troop schedules, or camp logistics. Her entire world was bounded by the four walls of this bedroom and the man lying unconscious on the bed.

Kade bowed his head in understanding. He shifted his posture slightly, his expression turning grim and serious.

"The assassin has confessed," Kade reported in a low, heavy tone.

Camilla’s hand stopped moving instantly. She whipped her head toward Kade with speed. Her eyes burned with an intense, sharp fire that made Kade instantly straighten his spine in alert.

"What did he say?" Camilla demanded, her soft tone vanishing, replaced by a cold tone. "Who wanted my husband dead?"

Kade looked into her eyes and delivered the name.

"General Howe."

Camilla did not gasp. She did not look shocked or surprised in the slightest. General Howe was Damon’s longtime political rival in the capital—a bitter, arrogant, and greedy man who had hated Damon for years over military influence. It made total sense that Howe wanted Damon gone.

Camilla immediately moved past the name and asked the next, far more important question.

"Who gave him that weapon?" Camilla asked, her voice dropping into a cold register.

Kade replied quickly, repeating the prisoner’s words. "The assassin said General Howe got the weapon from someone else and gave it to him to carry out the attack. He swears he does not know the true identity of the man who supplied it. He said it was between General Howe and the supplier."

Camilla’s mind raced with speed. General Howe was just a pawn being used on a board. The real threat was the mysterious person standing in the shadows behind him—the transmigrator behind the weapons and gunpowder.

"Dig up everything on General Howe," Camilla commanded coldly, her eyes fixed on Kade like steel blades. "Interference, letters, contacts. I want answers before the sun sets."

Kade bowed deeply. "As you wish, my lady. I will send our best intelligence men to investigate his estate and intercept his private letters immediately."

Kade hesitated for a brief moment, looking up at her pale face.

"As for the assassin," Kade continued, a slight shiver passing through his voice as he remembered the state of the prisoner in the dungeon cell. "The dripping water method broke him completely overnight. He looks mentally disturbed now, crying continuously and begging for death. What should we do with him, my lady?"

Camilla turned her head slowly back toward Damon’s peaceful, sleeping face. The soft, loving expression returned to her dark eyes, but her words were filled with cruelty.

"Grant him his wish," Camilla spoke softly.

She leaned closer to Damon, her voice dropping to a low whisper against his cheek. "He deserves it for hurting my Damon."

Kade felt a wave of cold air pass through his chest. He saw the terrifying contrast between her sweet devotion to the General and her merciless cruelty toward their enemies.

"It will be done, my lady," Kade said quietly. He bowed one last time, turned on his boot, and walked out of the master bedroom, closing the door behind him without a sound.

Once the room was quiet again, Camilla slowly released Damon’s hand and stood up from the chair.

She walked across the room toward the balcony doors. She reached out, turned the latch, and pushed both door open wide.

A fresh, cool morning breeze swept into the room, stirring her dress and fluttering the sheer white curtains against the walls. Outside, the morning sun lit up the garden below, and the sky above was a bright, clear blue without a single cloud.

Camilla stood by the open balcony, looking up at the wide blue sky.

"I will make them all pay for touching you," Camilla spoke softly to the open sky.

Behind her, on the soft sheets of the bed, Damon moved.

Beneath the wool blankets, his right hand twitched faintly. His pointer finger flexed just a little against the sheet.