"Oh yes, I forgot," Camilla said lightly, breaking the silence.

She tapped her fingers gently against the wooden desk.

"There’s something I haven’t told you yet, Uncle Murry," Camilla continued, acting as if she had just remembered a very tiny, unimportant detail.

Camilla raised her hand and pointed toward the floor right next to the desk.

"The general’s figurine got broken," Camilla stated calmly.

Brie and Mildred completely stopped crying. They held their breath.

Brie thought to herself, a tiny spark of desperate hope returning to her panicked mind.

"Yes," Brie thought, her heart beating wildly. "Tell him about the broken jade! The King’s gift! Even Mr. Murry cannot save her from breaking a royal reward! Murry will have to punish her! He will have to report her crime to the General!"

Brie waited eagerly for the older man to gasp in horror. She expected Murry to look at the shattered stone and yell. She expected the punishment to be severe.

Murry slowly lowered his eyes.

He looked at the floor. He saw the shattered pieces of the horse. He saw the broken head and the snapped legs. He recognized the stone immediately. It was indeed the King’s highly prized gift. It was a priceless, incredibly important object.

Murry looked at the broken object for exactly one single second.

Then, Murry quickly snapped his head up. He completely ignored the priceless treasure on the floor. He looked directly at Camilla, his face filled with sudden, intense, overwhelming panic.

Murry took a fast step forward, rushing toward the desk.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Murry asked in deep, genuine concern. His voice was frantic.

He leaned over the desk, looking at her pale hands and her dress, desperately searching for any signs of injury.

"Did you get hurt?" Murry asked worriedly, his eyes wide with fear. "Did any of the sharp pieces cut your skin? Did the stone fall on your foot? Should I call a doctor from the capital city immediately?"

Brie and Mildred stared at the older man in complete, mind-numbing shock.

Their jaws dropped completely open. They could not believe their own ears.

"What?" Brie thought to herself, her mind completely short-circuiting.

She stared at the shattered figurine on the floor, and then at the worried housekeeper.

"He... he doesn’t care about the King’s gift?"

Brie thought, pure disbelief washing over her. "It is a royal reward! It is worth hundreds and thousands of gold coins! It is a symbol of military honor! And he only cares if a tiny piece of stone scratched her finger?!"

In that exact moment, the two women finally realized the absolute, terrifying truth.

They realized the massive, unimaginable gap in social status between them and the Lady of the Benson family. To the Duke and his loyal servants, a priceless figurine horse given by the King was nothing but a useless rock compared to the safety and comfort of the Duke’s granddaughter-in-law.

Camilla was truly, completely untouchable.

Camilla sat in the leather chair, enjoying the absolute shock on the two women’s faces.

She looked at Murry’s worried expression and smiled a very soft, comforting smile.

"I am fine," Camilla reassured him gently, shaking her head side to side. She held up her hands to show they were perfectly clean and unharmed. "I didn’t get a single scratch. The assistant dropped it, not me. Thank you for your concern, Uncle Murry."

Murry let out a massive, heavy sigh of total relief. He placed a hand over his own racing heart.

"Thank heavens," Murry whispered, closing his eyes for a brief second.

Then, Murry opened his eyes. His relief instantly turned into deep, highly offended anger.

He did not direct his anger at Camilla. He directed his anger entirely at the overall management of the military camp itself.

"How is the general running the camp?" Murry spoke out loud, his voice full of severe, critical disapproval. He looked around the tent with deep disgust.

"This is unacceptable," Murry complained strictly. "First, they allow arrogant, rude servants to disrespect you. Then, they allow dangerous, fragile items to fall near your feet. The safety protocols in this camp are an absolute disaster."

Murry bowed deeply to Camilla, looking incredibly apologetic.

"I am so sorry you had to suffer such a stressful, unpleasant morning, My Lady," Murry apologized sincerely, as if she had just survived a terrible ordeal.

Murry stood up straight. He adjusted the cuffs of his immaculate black suit.

"I will report this directly to the old duke today," Murry promised firmly, issuing a threat that would definitely bring a headache to Damon later. "The Duke will want to know that his grandson is failing to provide a safe, respectful environment for his wife. The General needs to learn how to manage his staff properly."

Murry smiled warmly at Camilla, his eyes full of absolute dedication.

"Be rest assured, my lady," Murry promised smoothly. "These two women will be removed from the grounds before lunch. The employment records will be permanently marked. They will never work in any respectable noble household or military camp ever again."

Camilla smiled her sweetest, most grateful smile. She had achieved a total, flawless victory without lifting a single finger in violence. She had used their own rules and their own hierarchy completely against them.

"Thank you, Uncle Murry," Camilla said softly, nodding her head gracefully. "You are always so reliable. You may leave."

"Have a wonderful rest of your day, My Lady," Murry replied.

Murry placed his hand over his heart and bowed deeply to her one last time. He turned around smoothly. He completely ignored the two terrified women standing near the wall. He pushed the white canvas flap aside and walked confidently out of the tent to execute his harsh orders.

The flap fell shut.

The General’s tent was silent again.

Camilla slowly turned her head.

She looked directly at Brie and Mildred.

The two women were trembling violently. Mildred was openly sobbing, burying her face in her hands. Brie was staring blankly at the floor, her bandaged hands shaking at her sides, her entire life completely ruined by her own petty jealousy.

Camilla did not feel a single ounce of pity. They had tried to embarrass her. They had tried to frame her for a capital crime. If she were a weaker woman, they would have happily watched her die.

Camilla leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on the desk.

She looked at them with completely cold, dark, merciless eyes. She no longer had to pretend to be a sweet, innocent noble girl.

"Now," Camilla whispered smoothly. Her voice was incredibly soft, but it carried a dark, terrifying promise that echoed in the quiet tent.

Camilla smiled her wicked smile.

"Now you will know exactly what hell feels like."