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Now reading: Chapter 90 - Eighty Nine from Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts, a Historical novel by CameronRose8326.

Murry smiled a wide, joyful smile. "He just wants to guard her while she rests. True love is truly a beautiful thing." Murry locked the back door and finally went to his own bed, feeling very accomplished.

Damon walked completely silently down the dark hallway of the second floor. He reached the door of his private master bedroom.

He placed his hand on the brass handle. He turned it very slowly, making absolutely sure it did not click or squeak. He pushed the door open just enough to slip his large body inside. He closed the door silently behind him.

The room was lit only by the pale moonlight shining through the large glass windows.

Damon took one step into the room. Then, he completely froze.

He stared at his private, usually perfectly organized sanctuary. His jaw slowly dropped open.

"What did she do in here?" Damon asked himself in his mind. His internal voice was a mixture of absolute shock and deep, profound annoyance.

The room was an absolute, total disaster area. It looked like a small, violent tornado had ripped through the space while he was gone.

Camilla had completely enjoyed her evening alone.

Lying on the small wooden table were three empty crystal glasses that used to contain fresh fruit juice. Right next to the glasses was a silver plate completely covered in sticky, sweet pastry crumbs and half-eaten pieces of cake.

But the clothes were the worst part. Camilla had taken off her beautiful yellow silk dress, but she had not hung it up in the wardrobe. The yellow dress was thrown carelessly over the back of the only wooden chair in the room, looking like a deflated balloon.

Her soft, delicate shoes were kicked completely across the room. One shoe was lying near the wardrobe, and the other shoe was upside down near the washroom door.

And the pillows! She had taken three of the large, thick white pillows from the bed and thrown them onto the floor, apparently deciding they were taking up too much space on the mattress.

Damon stood in the middle of the chaotic ss. He was a man who demanded perfect order and clean surfaces. This ss went against every single rule he had ever set for his life.

He looked toward the massive bed.

Lying right in the exact center of the bed, completely surrounded by the ss she had made, was Camilla.

She was wearing her thin white silk nightgown. She was sleeping incredibly deeply. She was sprawled out on her stomach, her arms flung wide, and one of her legs sticking completely out from under the thick wool blankets. She was snoring very softly.

Damon stared at her sleeping face. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to wake her up and demand an explanation for turning his clean room into a pigsty.

But as he watched her chest rise and fall peacefully, his anger completely faded away.

A very small, annoyed sigh escaped his lips.

Damon did not wake her up.

Instead, he quietly bent down and started cleaning the room.

He moved with absolute silence. He walked over to the wooden chair. He carefully picked up the ssy yellow silk dress. He smoothed out the wrinkles gently with his large, scarred hands. He walked to the massive wardrobe, opened it silently, and hung the yellow dress up neatly on a wooden hanger.

He walked across the room and picked up her soft shoes, placing them perfectly side-by-side near the base of the wardrobe.

He walked over to the wooden table. He carefully gathered the sticky silver plate and the three empty crystal juice glasses. He carried them quietly and put them under the table, stacking them so neatly so the room looked clean again.

Finally, he bent down and picked up the three thick white pillows she had thrown onto the floor.

He walked over to the side of the bed. He looked down at her. Because she was sprawling so widely, the cold night air was hitting her exposed leg and her shoulders.

Damon placed the extra pillows gently near the headboard. Then, he reached down. His large hands carefully grasped the edge of the thick wool blanket.

Very gently, making sure not to touch her skin and wake her up, he pulled the blanket up. He covered her exposed leg. He pulled the warm wool all the way up to her shoulders, tucking it softly around her body so she would stay completely warm through the freezing night.

After he was completely done, the room was perfectly clean and organized again.

He did not get into the bed with her. He rembered her annoying thoughts from the previous night, and he rembered his own strict warning. He would not break his own rules.

Damon turned away from the comfortable mattress. He walked over to his normal position on the hard wooden floorboards near the wardrobe. He laid his single pillow down.

He lowered his large, tired body onto the cold floor. He faced the dark stone wall, closed his eyes, and finally went to a deep, peaceful sleep.

The next morning, the bright, cheerful sunlight poured through the large glass windows of the master bedroom.

Camilla slowly opened her eyes. She let out a long, loud, highly satisfied yawn. She stretched her arms high above her head and rolled over on the massive, soft bed. It had been the best sleep of her entire life.

She sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She stopped rubbing her eyes and blinked in total confusion.

The bedroom was absolutely spotless. The silver plate was gone. The crystal glasses were gone. Her yellow dress was not on the chair. The pillows were neatly arranged. The floor was completely clear.

"Did the maids do an overnight cleanup?" Camilla asked herself out loud. Her voice was full of genuine bewildernt. "How did they co in and clean everything without waking up? They must be incredibly well-trained ninjas."

" I can’t believe I slept off after ssing up the room. That’s so rude of . I am so glad Damon was at the camp all night." Camilla said as she admired the work. " I will have Uncle Murry reward them. They really did a job."

She pushed the thick wool blankets off her body and got down from the high bed. She stretched her legs as her bare feet hit the clean wooden floor.

"Alright, ti to get to work," Camilla thought to herself. "I need to go back to the Kennedy estate. I need to see Zade."

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