The inside of the General’s private command tent was very quiet and surprisingly cool. The white canvas walls blocked out the harsh heat of the sun.

Camilla sat completely alone in the quiet space. Damon had told her to stay in the tent and make herself comfortable. Camilla did exactly that. She looked around the simple room. There were no soft velvet sofas or crystal lamps here. There was only a narrow sleeping cot in the corner, a large wooden chest for armor, and a massive oak desk sitting directly in the center of the tent.

Camilla walked over to the large desk. The desk was completely covered with neat, organized stacks of thick paper, rolled-up maps, and small bottles of black ink.

She picked up a large book bound in dark brown leather. She opened the thick cover and looked at the pages.

It was a very detailed record book for the military camp. She slowly turned the pages. She saw long lists of names, ranks, and numbers. She saw the records of how much food the soldiers ate, how many new swords were forged by the blacksmiths, and how much money the army spent on fresh horses and medical supplies.

She traced her finger down a long column of numbers. She found it surprisingly interesting. It showed her exactly how Damon ran his massive military machine. He was incredibly organized and highly efficient. Every single copper coin was perfectly accounted for.

She leaned comfortably against the edge of the desk, reading the ledger quietly to pass the time.

Suddenly, the canvas flap at the front of the tent was pushed roughly aside.

A sudden gust of warm, dusty air blew into the cool tent. Someone came into the tent. It was the physician.

It was Miss Brie, the beautiful, tall head physician whom Camilla had seen earlier near the training fields. Brie was still wearing her clean, white linen medical apron over her simple blue dress. Her dark hair was tied back tightly.

Brie did not knock on the wooden pole of the tent. She did not ask for polite permission to enter the General’s private space. She simply walked inside with a very confident, highly arrogant stride, acting exactly as if she completely owned the place.

Brie walked directly toward the desk where Camilla was standing.

Brie was carrying a medium-sized, pale ceramic bowl in her hands.

Without offering a single polite bow or a proper, respectful greeting to the lady, Brie simply raised her hands and dropped an empty bowl on the desk.

Clack.

The hard ceramic bowl hit the thick wood of Damon’s desk with a loud, sharp noise.

Camilla stopped reading. She slowly lifted her eyes from the pages of the ledger. She looked at the empty, pale ceramic bowl sitting on the desk, and then she looked directly up at the physician’s face.

"Lady Camilla," she said. Brie’s voice was smooth, but it completely lacked any true, genuine respect. It sounded exactly like a busy manager speaking to a very lazy, unimportant servant.

Brie pointed a finger directly at the empty ceramic bowl.

"I need this bowl filled up," Brie commanded smoothly.

She crossed her arms tightly over her white linen apron, lifting her chin with a look of supreme importance.

"I am busy," Brie continued to explain, her voice dripping with fake exhaustion. "There are many injured soldiers in the medical tents today. I am busy and my assistants are busy too. We do not have any free hands to spare."

Brie looked at Camilla’s beautiful, clean riding dress. She looked at Camilla’s soft, pale hands.

"Could you go to the river and fetch me a bowl of water?" Brie asked.

It was a completely ridiculous, deeply insulting request. The river was located entirely outside the main gates of the military camp. It was a very long, very hot, incredibly dusty walk under the morning sun. Asking the wealthy, noble wife of the commanding General to walk through the dirt to carry a single bowl of water was an absolute, undeniable insult to her status.

Camilla stared at the physician.

She dropped the ledger. The book hit the desk with a soft thud, landing right next to the empty ceramic bowl.

She did not look angry. She did not raise her voice to yell.

Instead, Camilla smiled.

It was a very slow, very cold, and highly calculating smile.

Inside her brain, her memories of the original web novel were actively turning completely to life. She immediately recognized exactly who this arrogant woman was and exactly what role she played in the story.

"Miss Brie," Camilla thought to herself, stating the woman’s name in her mind. She looked at the woman’s clean white apron and her proud posture.

"The head physician of the Benson army," Camilla recalled perfectly. She knew all of the secret character details. "She is highly skilled in medicine, but her ego is completely out of control."

Camilla remembered the specific Chapters that detailed Brie’s past history with Damon.

"She treated all the deep, terrible scar wounds on Damon’s body," Camilla’s thoughts continued, analyzing the woman’s hidden motivations. "When Damon was injured in battle, she was the one who bandaged his chest and his legs. Because she has seen the General without his shirt, and because she saved his life with her medicines, she feels a very strong, fake connection to him."

Camilla watched Brie standing proudly near the desk, waiting impatiently for Camilla to pick up the bowl.

"She feels she is completely worthy to stand by him," Camilla concluded in her mind. "She thinks she is the only woman who truly understands the General’s pain. She secretly wants to be the Lady of the Benson mansion."

Then, Camilla thought about the original owner of her own body. She remembered how the original Lady Camilla had behaved during her very first year of marriage.

"Because of her high status in the camp, she also always liked to order the original Camilla around," Camilla thought, shaking her head internally with deep pity.