Later that night, the Benson mansion was completely silent. The only light in the master bedroom was the pale, silver moonlight shining through the large glass windows.

Damon had taken his bath quickly in the washroom. The cool water helped clear his mind, but his thoughts were still racing. He walked back into the bedroom and climbed onto the large, soft wooden bed. He pulled the thick wool blankets over his broad chest.

He closed his eyes, but he did not go to sleep.

He lay perfectly still, breathing in a slow, deep, steady rhythm. His military training allowed him to mimic the exact sounds of a deeply sleeping man. He was waiting. He knew Camilla was hiding something under the bed, and he wanted to see exactly what she would do when she thought it was safe.

In some minutes, the quiet room shifted slightly.

Down on the floor, lying on her makeshift bed of blankets, Camilla slowly opened her eyes.

She did not move her body immediately. She listened very carefully. She heard Damon’s deep, steady, rhythmic breathing coming from the large bed above her. The sound was even and relaxed. He sounded like he was deeply asleep.

She slowly pushed her thick wool blanket off her shoulders. She stood up from the floor without making a single sound. Her bare feet touched the cold wooden floorboards.

She walked silently over to the edge of the bed. She leaned forward slightly, peering through the dim moonlight.

She raised her hand and gently waved her fingers directly in front of his closed eyes. She moved her hand back and forth twice. She wanted to make absolutely sure he was fast asleep and not just resting his eyes.

Damon felt the slight breeze from her hand moving over his face. He did not flinch. His eyelids did not flutter. His breathing remained completely steady. He played his part perfectly.

Camilla nodded her head in complete satisfaction.

She quietly turned around and went down on her knees on the floor right at the foot of the bed. She reached her arm far underneath the frame, searching the dark space.

She felt around in the dark until her fingers brushed against her hidden items. She pulled them out carefully.

She brought out the tight bundle of black combat attire, the stack of paper bank notes, and her sharp twin steel daggers.

Camilla stood up. She carried her secret items and tiptoed quietly across the bedroom. She carefully placed her bare feet toe-to-heel, making absolutely no sound on the floor. She moved like a complete shadow.

She walked over to her wardrobe. She opened the door very slowly, preventing the metal hinges from squeaking in the quiet room.

She reached into the back of the wardrobe. She took the massive stack of money and the sharp steel daggers. She hid them securely under one of her heaviest, thickest winter dresses, making sure they were completely covered from sight. If a maid opened the wardrobe, they would only see normal clothes. She closed the wardrobe door silently.

Next, she turned her attention to the black combat clothes. She held the dark tunic and trousers in her hands. She could not hide them in the wardrobe. They smelled like dust and sweat. If anyone found them, there would be terrible questions.

Camilla carried the black attire over to the large stone fireplace.

The fire from the evening had died down to glowing, hot orange embers. She gently placed the black cloth directly onto the hot coals.

She watched quietly as the fabric caught fire. The dry cloth burned quickly and silently, turning into dark, useless ash. The faint smell of burning fabric filled the air. She took a small iron poker and stirred the ashes gently, making absolutely sure the clothes were completely destroyed.

After everything was completely done, she put the iron poker down. She walked back across the dark room.

She went back to her makeshift pad on the floor to sleep. She laid down on the hard wood and pulled the thick wool blanket back over her shoulders, burying herself in the warmth.

"Thank goodness he didn’t find out," Camilla thought to herself. Her internal voice was filled with relief. "I am so tired."

She let out a soft, silent yawn into her pillow. The exhaustion of the long, crazy day finally caught up to her. Within minutes, her breathing slowed, and she slept.

Up on the large bed, Damon’s eyes slowly snapped open in the pale moonlight.

He lay perfectly still. He heard her relieved thoughts echoing clearly inside his head. He heard her burning and hiding something.

"What is she hiding?" Damon thought to himself. His mind instantly became sharp and fully alert. His suspicions flared wildly.

He waited until her breathing slowed into a deep, steady sleep rhythm. He listened for another five minutes to ensure she was completely unconscious.

Then, Damon quietly got out of the bed. He stepped onto the wooden floorboards, moving just as silently as she had. He was a trained warrior, and he knew how to walk without making a sound.

He walked over to the large stone fireplace. He looked down at the glowing embers.

The black cloth was mostly ash, but he saw a very small, unburned piece of thick black fabric resting near the edge of the hot coals. It was a tiny scrap of dark combat cloth. He recognized the military weave immediately. It was not the kind of cloth a noble lady wore.

Damon picked up the small, burnt piece of fabric. He stared at it, his frown deepening.

He turned around and walked silently over to the wardrobe.

He opened the door carefully. He reached inside and searched softly through her silk dresses, moving the fabrics gently so he would not make a sound. He remembered exactly where she had reached.

He moved a winter dress aside. His hand brushed against something hard and cold, and then something thick and made of paper.

He pulled the items out into the moonlight.

His dark eyes widened in shock.

He brought out the stack of paper bank notes and the two sharp, deadly steel daggers. He stared at the unbelievable fortune in his hands. It was exactly one hundred thousand gold coins worth of paper money. He knew this for a fact, because Kade had just withdrawn this exact amount from the camp treasury a few hours ago. It was the exact reward he had given to the anonymous champion earlier that day. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Damon walked back over to the fireplace. He placed the massive stack of money and the sharp daggers down on the stone hearth. He put the burnt piece of black fabric right beside the money and daggers.

He looked at the evidence gathered together. The black combat cloth. The twin daggers. The champion’s massive reward money.

The impossible, ridiculous truth slammed into his brain with the force of a large heavy iron hammer.

Damon thought to himself, his internal voice filled with complete, mind-shattering disbelief.

"It was her," Damon realized.

He stared blindly at the money. His mind connected all the missing pieces. The slim figure on the dirt field. The perfect combat physics. The way the fighter threw the giant mercenary to the ground. The mysterious figure he had seen earlier hiding in the shadows. The scratches on her palms.

The fighter who had saved his father’s land, the deadly shadow assassin who had slaughtered the giant mercenary, was his own wife.