Chapter 152: Chapter Hundred And Fifty One

Camilla stepped even closer to him. She raised both of her small hands. She began to pat and wipe his shoulder, pretending to carefully clean the grey dust away.

But Camilla was not actually cleaning his coat.

She was currently feeling incredibly annoyed that she had to stop her fun training session just to act like a sweet idiot in front of him. She decided to use this opportunity to vent her physical frustration directly onto his body, using the excuse of "cleaning" him to hit him.

She moved her hands to his chest and his other shoulder. Instead of wiping the dust away, she was aggressively cleaning her dirty, dusty palms directly on his expensive blue wool, using his coat like a rag.

Inside her head, her internal voice was screaming with pure, hot rage.

"How dare you expect a wonderful surprise?" Camilla thought to herself, her mind boiling with anger. She slapped his chest hard with her palm to "pat" the dust.

Smack.

"You completely ruined my morning!" she raged in her thoughts, wiping her hands forcefully down his sleeve. "You disturbed my training session! I was having a great time! I was finally getting some real exercise, and you had to run down here and ruin everything with your stupid dramatic entrance!"

She slapped his other shoulder with a sharp, heavy hit.

Smack.

"If you want a surprise so badly," Camilla’s thoughts continued, "why don’t you just go to the capital market, buy a expensive gift for yourself, wrap it in nice paper, and then feign complete shock and surprise when you open it in front of a mirror? Save your drama for yourself and leave me alone!"

With every single action she took, Camilla applied a massive amount of physical force. She was not gently brushing dust. She was aggressively hitting, slapping, and rubbing his chest and shoulders.

Damon stood perfectly still. He did not pull away. But with every wipe and slap, he could clearly feel the blunt, heavy force of her small hands hitting his chest. Even though her body was weak compared to his, she was putting all of her weight into the strikes. It felt exactly like a small child throwing a tantrum against his chest.

Damon’s chest muscles tensed automatically to absorb the force of her slaps. He looked down at her. He saw how hard she was rubbing his coat.

Finally, Damon decided he had tolerated enough of her violent "cleaning" session. If he let her continue, his entire coat would be completely grey, and he would have bruises on his chest.

Damon raised his large hands. He reached out and firmly grabbed both of her wrists, completely stopping her hands mid-wipe.

He held her hands steady in his strong grip.

"It’s enough," Damon spoke. His deep voice was low, firm, and carried a clear warning. He looked down into her eyes. "I don’t need you to clean it anymore."

Camilla stopped struggling. Her hands went limp in his grip.

In an instant, she wiped the angry look off her face. She dropped her shoulders. She made her eyes look very wide, watery, and incredibly sad. She looked down at his ruined coat, acting as if she were completely heartbroken by her own clumsiness.

"I’m so sorry, My Lord," Camilla whispered softly. Her voice sounded pitiful, shaking with fake guilt. "I made your coat even more dirty. I wanted to help, but I only made a mess. You should go back to the mansion and clean it off."

She let out a soft, sad sniffle.

Damon stared down at her. He felt the soft warmth of her wrists in his hands. He looked at her sad, quivering lip.

He knew she was faking. He knew she had just used his chest as a dirty rag to clean her hands on purpose. He knew she was completely furious with him for interrupting her training.

But as he looked at her scruffy, dirty appearance, he thought about how well she had fought in the ring. He thought about her flawless footwork and her quick nerve strikes. She was truly a remarkable warrior. She wanted to get stronger.

Damon thought to himself, a very serious, helpful idea forming in his mind.

"Should I involve myself in her training session?" Damon wondered.

He liked the idea. He was a General. He knew how to train the best killers in the world. If she wanted to learn more, he could teach her. He could bring her to his private training grounds. He could teach her how to hold a sword properly, how to dodge, and how to strike. It would be a wonderful way to spend time together, and he could keep her safe.

He opened his mouth, fully intending to voice his thoughts. He wanted to offer to help her train himself.

But before a single word could come out of his lips, Camilla’s loud, highly irritated thoughts interrupted him completely.

"Look at him," Camilla’s internal voice groaned with deep disgust. Her thoughts were incredibly loud inside his head.

"He is just standing there staring at me," she complained in her mind, her thoughts rolling their eyes. "After seeing his own wife look so sad and dirty, after seeing me cry about not having enough money to hire a private master, he doesn’t even say a single nice thing."

She let out a sharp, internal scoff of pure disbelief.

"Any normal, decent husband would immediately feel sorry for his poor wife," Camilla’s thoughts continued to lecture him. "He would instantly offer to take her shopping in the capital. He would take her to the most expensive restaurants. He would buy her beautiful dresses, jewelry, or at least a nice gift to cheer her up!"

She stared at his silent, serious face.

"But him?" her thoughts sneered. "Nothing. He just stands there like a giant statue. He won’t spend a single copper coin on me. He is literally the most stingiest, greediest man I have ever met in my entire life. He has a mountain of gold in his treasury, but he treats his wife like a beggar. What a terrible, cheap awful man."

Damon’s jaw dropped open slightly.

The words he was about to speak died instantly on his lips. His ears turned even redder.

He was completely, utterly speechless. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

He had just saved her from being arrested. He had wiped her tears. He was currently planning to personally train her in his private yard. And she was standing there, calling him the stingiest man alive because he didn’t buy her a dress?

" What does this woman want from me?" He thought to himself.