Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts-Chapter 46 - Forty Five

Camilla pushed the wooden wheelchair along the wide, winding stone paths of the garden. The metal wheels made a soft, rhythmic crunching sound against the small pebbles.

The garden of the Benson mansion was incredibly large and beautiful. There were tall green hedges cut perfectly straight. There were massive beds of bright red and yellow roses. A gentle, cool breeze blew through the leaves, carrying the sweet smell of the flowers.

Camilla walked slowly. Her dark red silk dress flowed softly behind her with every step. On the outside, she looked like a quiet, caring wife taking her injured husband for a peaceful morning stroll.

But inside her head, she was intensely focused on her new experiment.

"How does this magic actually work?" Camilla thought to herself, staring at the back of Damon’s dark head. "Do I need to touch the person? Do I just need to look at them? When I cursed Isabel, I was standing far away. So distance is not a problem. I just need to say the words ’I hope’ and state the curse."

Damon sat very still in his chair. He listened to her thoughts carefully. He did not let his face show any emotion, but his mind was working just as fast as hers.

"Magic?" Damon thought, his dark eyes scanning the rose bushes. "She truly believes she has magical powers. She thinks she cursed Isabel. Is that why Isabel broke her leg?"

Damon was a man of science, war, and logic. He did not believe in witches or curses. But he also could not deny the strange things that had happened. Ida bit her tongue. Nancy burned her hands. Isabel broke her leg and lost her voice. All of these things happened right after Camilla spoke to them. And above all, Damon was currently reading his wife’s mind. He had to accept that something deeply unnatural was happening.

"I need to be very careful," Damon warned himself. "She is going to test her ’magic’ on me right now."

After twenty minutes of touring the beautiful garden, they reached the center. There was a large, white wooden gazebo standing on a raised stone platform. The gazebo had a round roof that provided deep, cool shade from the bright morning sun. Inside the gazebo, there was a round stone table and several comfortable wooden chairs.

Camilla pushed the wheelchair up the small wooden ramp and into the shade of the gazebo. She turned the chair around so Damon could face the beautiful view of the water fountains.

She stepped away from the chair. She looked toward the edge of the garden, where two maids were standing at a respectful distance, waiting for orders.

Camilla raised her hand and gestured to them.

"Bring us a pot of tea and some biscuits,"

Camilla instructed the maids out loud. Her voice was perfectly polite. "Make sure it is brewed well. The General needs something nice after our long walk."

The maids bowed quickly. They were terrified of Camilla after what happened to the maid in the foyer. They practically ran back toward the mansion to fetch the food.

Camilla walked to the other side of the round stone table. She sat down in a wooden chair across from Damon. She smoothed her red dress over her knees. She folded her hands on the table and smiled at him.

Damon looked back at her. He kept his face completely blank.

A few minutes later, the two maids hurried back. They were carrying a heavy silver tray. They carefully placed the tray on the round stone table between Damon and Camilla. On the tray, there was a beautiful white porcelain teapot painted with blue flowers. There were two matching teacups, a small bowl of sugar, and a plate of baked butter biscuits.

Thick, hot steam was rising from the spout of the white teapot.

"You may leave," Camilla told the maids softly.

The maids bowed again and quickly left the gazebo, leaving the husband and wife completely alone in the quiet garden.

Camilla leaned forward. Her eyes sparkled with hidden excitement. She reached out her small hands and carefully lifted the hot porcelain teapot by its curved handle.

She moved the teapot over the first delicate teacup. She tilted her wrist downward.

The hot, dark brown tea poured smoothly into the cup. A fresh cloud of steam rose into the air, carrying the rich, bitter smell of strong black tea leaves. She filled the cup almost to the very top.

Camilla placed the teapot back onto the silver tray. She carefully picked up the teacup by its small saucer. She reached across the stone table and placed it directly in front of Damon.

Then, she looked him right in the eye.

"My lord, have a sip of tea," Camilla said out loud. Her voice was incredibly sweet and gentle. She smiled her most innocent, caring smile.

Damon looked at the steaming cup, and then he looked back at her face.

Camilla leaned forward just a tiny bit. She made her eyes look wide and soft. She prepared to deliver her magic curse. She made sure to use the exact trigger words.

"Be careful," Camilla said softly. "I hope it doesn’t burn your lip."

She paused for a fraction of a second, adding a layer of fake wifely devotion.

"It would break my heart," she finished, smiling sweetly at him.

The words hung in the quiet air of the gazebo.

Outwardly, it was a perfectly normal, loving sentence. It sounded exactly like a caring wife warning her injured husband about a hot drink.

But inside her head, Camilla was cheering wildly.

"Yes!" Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice laughing with evil delight. "The trap is set! The curse is spoken! Burn, baby, burn! I want to see him drop that cup. I want to see his perfect, arrogant lips swell up like two red balloons. Drink it and feel the burn!"

Damon sat perfectly still in his wheelchair. He stared at her sweet, smiling face. He listened to her evil, laughing thoughts.

He slowly looked down at the steaming teacup.

"Why does it feel like she’s cursing me?" Damon asked himself in his mind.

He knew the answer. She was cursing him. Or at least, she was trying to. He had connected the dots perfectly. The words ’I hope’ were her weapon. She had just used her strange, jinxed mouth to try and physically harm him with a cup of hot tea.