Chapter 66.

CAMILLA'S POV.

I moved alongside him, each of his steps unsteady as he staggered with every few paces. I did my best to support him, holding him up to keep him from collapsing, but my mind was in a whirlwind. The aftermath of the fight had left me deeply unsettled.

Not only had he hit me, but he had also pushed me away, and now, seeing him in such a state; drunk and disoriented, was disconcerting.

He managed to make his way to the bed and sank down onto it with a tired, almost defeated sigh.

As he mumbled incoherently in a few hushed tones, I strained to understand his words, but they remained unclear and jumbled.

I watched him closely, trying to piece together what was happening.

The phrase “I want my Astrid back!” echoed repeatedly in my mind. It was as if his drunken state was only amplifying his desperation, but it didn't make sense to me.

What did being drunk have to do with his desire to reclaim her? What was going on inside his head? His actions and words were frustrating,