The next morning, I dragged myself into the inn's yard for training, eyes bleary and ringed like I'd lost a fight with insomnia.
"You look like you didn't sleep at all."
Alessio's brows knit in mild concern as he studied my face.
Of course I didn't. How could I sleep, with thoughts of the real Sonia running circles in my head all night?
"What happened?" he asked, gaze steady.
"Uh—oh… nothing. Really. I just had a lot on my mind."
I gave a too‑quick shrug, hoping it passed for casual.
'Yeah, right. Like I can tell him I spent the night spiraling about what might've happened to Sonia.'
My attempt at a smile wobbled; the conflict on my face probably showed anyway.
Alessio stared a moment longer, then exhaled.
"All right. Just—if you're feeling unwell, tell me. We can pause training."
I lit up with hopeful puppy‑eyes. Alessio's mouth twitched—half reluctant, half resigned.
"I get it. Stop looking at me like that. You can take the day off."
