Camila's POV
The Next Morning
I expected the tension from last night to fade by morning.
I was wrong.
Nathaniel was colder than ever.
He barely acknowledged me when I entered the dining hall, his attention fixed on whatever report he was reading. When I sat down across from him, he didn't even look up.
I clenched my fists under the table, staring at him in disbelief.
This was the same man who had publicly claimed me last night. Who had thrown a ring on my finger like it was some declaration of war.
And now?
Now I was nothing to him.
I stabbed my fork into the eggs on my plate, my appetite nonexistent.
"Are you going to ignore me forever?" I muttered.
Nathaniel flipped a page in his report. "I'm not ignoring you."
I scoffed. "Oh, really? Because it sure feels like it."
He finally looked at me, but his expression was blank, detached. "I have more important things to deal with than your tantrum, Camila."
My stomach twisted.
Tantrum.
