As for what spell it was, it was naturally the illusion magic I had cast on my face.
The one that had kept the Archbishop from realizing that I was not as fine as I appeared to be.
Looking back down, instead of the usual fresh face, what stared back at me was a girl with slightly dishevelled hair, red eyes, and dark eye bags.
Well, I suppose this was inevitable. Even for someone at my level, going without proper sleep for weeks was bound to have consequences.
[You're overworking yourself, Eliza. You need to rest.]
There was a tinge of worry in her voice, but somehow, I could tell it wasn't entirely for me. It was more for Evan's reaction if he knew what state I was in.
Even so, I understood what she meant.
I was overworking myself. And no, it wasn't just a coping mechanism.
