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Beside him, his would-be assassin gave a slow, suffocating-martyr sigh, and facepalmed. “Idiot.”

Alessio paused and cocked his head at Sir Scary with his biggest, most innocent wide puppy eyes.

“You have eminently superior intelligence and cleverness, I bow before your observational skills. It took you one short day to determine I’m an idiot, while most people take the full extent of five minutes. I salute you, O Wise One.”

“Let’s get to the room Arsene arranged for everyone.” He said, ignoring Alessio’s retort, which was fine with him he probably shouldn’t have said it. Nithel would not have approved…

“Let’s just get to bed. I want to get at least a few hours of sleep.” Devils. Alessio was tired but the last thing he wanted was sleep it usually left him more exhausted. Wait. Oh. Oh nonononono no. With Sir Scary, the guy who wants to kill him! Sleep was bad enough without an assassin sharing sleeping corridors!!!

Devils. He thought with despairing resignation and looked back at Leana.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you, I’m completely at your service, ma’am.” Alessio said and bowed to her.

In his culture it was a debt of kindness that he owed to Nithel which could be repaid by service to his daughter, so it was a solemn oath of loyalty to be passed down generations until the debt was absolved or repaid once he voluntarily acknowledged it.

Sir Scary just started dragging him along, and Alessio just glared witheringly at him.

“Arsene will get you a separate room and a meal!” Alessio volunteered the robber without his consent. Speaking of food, he was starving. Maybe he should complain dramatically about it but that sounded like a waste of time.

But he let himself be dragged away this time, grumbling loud enough for Sir Scary to hear, soft enough to not bother Leana…hopefully.

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