IPWDP 02

“Senaren, could you wipe down table three?”

The small inn’s dining hall only had seven tables, but it was Senaren’s idea to number them.
At first, the innkeeper, Rosie, had objected.
“With so few tables, what’s the point of numbering them?” she had said.
But after doing it, she realized the system reduced serving mistakes and made work much easier.

“Sure,” Senaren replied.

Carrying a clean, freshly wrung cloth, she walked over to the table.
Her hands moved deftly and thoroughly as she wiped the surface.

“Oh, right—Senaren, did you hear? They’ve taken down those wanted posters.”

Senaren smiled faintly at Rosie’s words.
She knew exactly which posters Rosie was talking about—and why she was bringing them up to her.

“Oh, you mean the one with the woman who looks like me?”

“Yeah, that one. You really did look alike. The first time I saw it, I thought it was you.”

“I know. It’s a pity my hair color’s different. If it weren’t, I might’ve turned myself in for the reward,” Senaren joked lightly.

A few years back, the Imperial Palace had issued a wanted notice—for none other than the Duke’s daughter and fiancée of the Crown Prince.
The bounty was enormous, and the entire Empire had been abuzz for weeks.

Especially because the woman in the sketch looked exactly like Senaren.
Except for one difference: the noblewoman had chestnut-brown hair, while Senaren’s was a striking, snowy white.

Still, for a long while, she’d been bothered by people trying to report her just based on her face alone.

“I should’ve filed a false report before they took them down,” she teased. “If I’d dyed my hair, no one would’ve noticed.”

“You’d get in big trouble—those were royal notices,” Rosie warned.

“That’s why I kept quiet,” Senaren said with a small laugh.

Rosie chuckled too.

“That’ll be enough for today. Head home.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Be careful on your way back. Tell Joy and Ena I said hello.”

“I will.”

After washing and hanging the cloth to dry, Senaren hurried out of the inn.
Her parents, Joy and Ena, lived in a house near the forest outside the city, so she needed to be home before dark.

Then she saw him.

A man stepped out from the alley between two buildings, and Senaren’s eyes widened.
Golden hair that gleamed in the dim light—and a fleeting glimpse of a beautiful face that almost made her turn back to look again.

In the forest, night fell quickly.
The trees blocked the light, making dusk arrive earlier.
It was already evening.
If she delayed any longer, the road home would become treacherous.

She often joked that she could walk it with her eyes closed now, but even so, the forest at night was never safe.
Thanks to her brisk pace, she soon reached the forest’s edge just outside the city.

“Wait—wait!”

A refined male voice called out.
But she didn’t think it was directed at her—until a sudden grip on her wrist made her wince.

Startled, Senaren turned around.

“Ephelia?”

It was the same man she’d just seen.
He was strikingly handsome—deep-set eyes, sharp nose, peach-colored lips. His beauty made her heart lurch.
His soft golden hair and brilliant golden eyes caught the fading light like fire.

Then his face twisted as if he might cry, and before she could react, he pulled her into his arms.

“…Ephelia. You’re alive.”

The man’s trembling voice brushed her ear.
Flustered, Senaren tried to push him away, but his strength was overwhelming.
Sensing her struggle, the man finally released her—but not completely.

Instead of holding her, he now cupped her face gently in both hands, as if trying to confirm what his eyes were seeing.

Senaren, bewildered, stammered,
“Who… who are you?”

The man froze.

“…Ephelia, it’s me. Regios. Don’t you remember me?”

“Wh-who are you? Do you know me?”

“Have you lost your memory?”

That was the only explanation Regios could come up with.
No—he was sure of it.
She had lost her memory. That was why she hadn’t come back.

He had almost given up searching for her.
And now, at last—here she was, standing right before him.

Was this fate? Divine intervention?

Regios didn’t believe in gods or destiny.
But could it really be mere coincidence that she appeared just as he was about to let her go?

“I think… you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” Senaren said carefully. “My name’s Senaren. My parents are Joy and Ena. I’m not that noblewoman.”

Her flustered words made Regios frown.

She had parents? But Ephelia’s parents were dead—he’d been at the funeral himself.
And those names… he’d never heard them before.

“They’re your real parents?” he asked sharply.

“How can you even say something like that?” she snapped, glaring.
He realized then that he’d gone too far.

“…I’m sorry,” he muttered.

In his desperation, he’d spoken rudely.
If she really had parents, perhaps she wasn’t Ephelia after all.

Regios didn’t know what to do.
Was this woman truly someone else?

Ephelia had never looked at him like that before.
She had always smiled—sweetly, wistfully, lovingly.

So was this woman simply a stranger who happened to look uncannily like her?

Was Ephelia really dead?
The thought made his chest tighten painfully, like invisible hands were squeezing the breath from him.

He had thought he’d given up on her.
But seeing this woman, so perfectly resembling Ephelia, he realized he’d been lying to himself.

How could I ever think of letting you go?
How dare I?

“E-excuse me, could you please let go of my arm?”

Only then did he notice he was still holding her wrist. He wanted to let go—but couldn’t.
He didn’t want to.

What if she really was Ephelia?

He’d chased countless rumors and false leads for years, but none had looked like this.

“Please, let go of my hand,” she said firmly.

At her tone, Regios finally released her.

“Your mother’s Ena, and your father’s Joy?”

“That’s right. You’re looking for the Duke’s daughter from the wanted posters, aren’t you? I’m not her.”

Regios stared at her silently.
Could it really be a mistake?
No—how could anyone look so alike?
Her face was exactly the same, just a bit more mature after a few years.

“Why are you so sure?” he asked quietly.

He’d never asked that question before.

“If I were really that noblewoman, don’t you think I would’ve turned myself in? Why would I live like this when I could reclaim my title?”

Her logic was sound.
There had been countless reports over the years—people all over the Empire claiming to have seen the lost noblewoman with chestnut hair and amber eyes.

Ephelia’s disappearance was infamous.
Some of those women had even looked a bit like her.
But they weren’t Ephelia.

They had tried to prove it, and the harder they tried, the more certain he became that they weren’t her.
This woman, though… was different.

“Maybe you lost your memory,” he murmured.

He’d heard that excuse from scammers before—and scoffed every time.
Yet now, he was the one saying it.

Was it because he wanted her to be Ephelia?

Why?
She might not be her at all.

“I’m not that lady. Look—my hair’s even a different color,” Senaren said.

“…Right. The hair,” Regios whispered.

Ephelia’s hair had been a warm, caramel brown.
This woman’s was pure white—snowy and radiant.

No one could mistake them.
She had parents, a different appearance, and she herself denied being Ephelia.

Then why did he feel like he couldn’t let her go?

Did he truly wish this woman was Ephelia?

Or did he simply want someone—anyone—to take her place?

No.
No one could ever replace Ephelia.
She was the only girl he had ever loved—the one he’d lost because of his own blindness.

And yet… why did this woman feel like her?
Why did she stir the same ache in his heart?

Regios didn’t understand himself anymore.
He needed to know.
Was this woman truly Ephelia—or just someone who looked like her?

“You are Ephelia,” he said with quiet conviction.

Senaren realized then that no amount of reasoning would convince him otherwise.
No matter what she said, this man would never believe she wasn’t the one he was searching for.

And that realization left her deeply unsettled.