Camilla came downstairs to the dining room, humming a cheerful, happy tune. She felt incredibly rested. For the first time since she came to this world, she had slept peacefully in the center of a very large, comfortable bed without anyone bothering her. She did not know about Damon’s terrible nightmare, nor did she care that he had fled the house before the sun rose fully. She was just happy to have the entire room to herself.

As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she saw the large dining room doors were wide open. Inside, Mr. Murry was busy giving instructions to three young maids on how to set the long wooden table properly. He was pointing at the silver forks and the crystal water glasses, making sure everything was absolutely perfect.

"Uncle Murry," Camilla said happily as she walked into the room and got to where he was standing.

Murry turned around and bowed respectfully. Before he could speak, Camilla took a step back and held out the sides of her skirt.

She turned around in a slow circle, letting the fabric flow. "Look at my dress," she said, her voice full of genuine delight. "I just saw this piece when the maid was picking out a dress for me this morning. Isn’t it pretty?"

She twirled one more time. The dress was truly lovely. It was made of soft, light yellow silk, embroidered with tiny white flowers around the collar, sleeves and the hem. It was a very cheerful color, completely different from the dark, sad colors the original Lady Camilla used to wear. It made her skin glow and highlighted her bright red curly hair perfectly.

Murry looked at her. His eyes softened with a warm, grandfatherly affection.

Murry replied, "It is beautiful, my lady. It suits you."

Camilla stopped twirling and smiled brightly. She replied, "Thank you."

She walked over to her chair at the head of the table. As she moved, Murry watched her. He noticed the bright sparkle in her eyes. He noticed how energetic and light her steps were today.

Murry thought to himself, completely misunderstanding the situation. "Seems last night was a very good night," he assumed in his mind. "She is smiling so widely and she looks so happy."

He remembered opening the bedroom door last night and seeing Damon lying on the floor with Camilla holding him. Murry fully believed that the young couple had finally overcome their differences and shared a deeply romantic, passionate night together. To him, her bright yellow dress and her humming were clear signs of a woman in love.

Camilla sat down in her chair. She looked at the massive breakfast spread covering the table. There was a basket of fresh, warm bread rolls, bowls of sweet berries, a large platter of roasted meats, boiled eggs, and a silver jug of fresh milk.

"Uncle Murry," Camilla said, her eyes wide with appreciation. "All these for me? You really spoil me."

She reached out and picked up a warm piece of bread from the woven basket.

Murry smiled, but he looked around the large, empty room. He noticed that the General’s chair at the other end of the table was still empty. He had expected the young husband to come down and eat with his beautiful wife this morning.

"My Lady, my lord..." Murry asked, his voice trailing off as he looked toward the stairs.

Camilla replied easily, taking a piece of bread from the basket and tearing it in half. "He left very early this morning. I think he had important things to do."

She spread some fresh, sweet butter onto her bread. Inside her head, she added, "He practically ran out of the house. Good riddance. The grumpy rock is finally out of my hair for a few days."

Murry nodded his head slowly. He completely misinterpreted her words again. He thought the General had to rush off to the military camp because of a sudden emergency, and he felt sorry that their romantic morning was cut short.

"He must have been very reluctant to leave," Murry thought to himself. "The General works too hard. He needs to build up his strength."

Murry turned toward the kitchen doors. He clapped his hands together twice.

Immediately, a young maid came out of the kitchen. She was carefully carrying a small, beautifully painted ceramic soup bowl on a silver tray. Steam was rising gently from the top of the bowl.

The maid walked over to the table. She placed the small soup bowl gently directly in front of Camilla, curtsied politely, and quietly left the dining room.

Camilla dropped her buttered bread onto her plate. She leaned forward and looked at the rich-looking liquid inside the small bowl.

"Uncle Murry," Camilla said, leaning closer to inhale the steam. "This smells delicious."

It had a very deep, earthy, savory smell. It did not smell like normal chicken soup or vegetable broth. It smelled rich and complex.

Murry smiled proudly. He clasped his hands behind his back. He listed the ingredients out loud to her. He mentioned several rare mountain roots, special dried mushrooms, deer horn extract, and a variety of expensive herbs brought in from the capital city.

Camilla listened to him, but she didn’t understand all those words. To her modern ears, it just sounded like a list of strange, old-fashioned plant names. She just cared about how it tasted.

She picked up her spoon. She dipped it into the broth and took a small sip.

Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise. It was incredibly delicious. It was warm, savory, and coated her throat perfectly.

"Mmmm," Camilla said, closing her eyes in enjoyment. She quickly dipped her spoon in again, taking more sips. It was exactly what she needed after a long night of sleeping.

Murry watched her enjoy the soup. He continued his explanation.

"It is very nourishing," Murry said, his voice dropping slightly into a serious, caring tone. "It rejuvenates the body and provides deep strength to the muscles. You should drink more, My Lady."

Camilla swallowed the warm soup. She nodded her head in agreement. It really did make her feel warm and energetic.

As she looked at the nourishing soup, a sudden thought crossed her mind. She thought about yesterday. She thought about the dark, dirty back room of the Old Man’s Rye Tavern.

She remembered seeing her younger brother, Zade Kennedy. She remembered his bruised, swollen face. She remembered his split, bleeding lip, and the terrible pain in his broken ribs. Zade had been beaten severely by those thugs. His body was currently weak and completely battered.

"Zade needs this," Camilla thought to herself. "He needs something warm and nourishing to help his body heal. This rich soup should be perfect for a sick person recovering from injuries."

She looked up at the older housekeeper.

"Uncle Murry," Camilla asked hopefully. "Is there more? Could you help me package it?"

Murry’s eyes lit up with absolute joy. He nodded his head rapidly.

"Right away, my lady," Murry replied happily. He bowed deeply and immediately turned around, walking briskly toward the kitchen doors.