IPWDP 37

Episode 37

Ephelia’s eyes widened, and before she could even process Regios’s words, it felt as though a heavy weight had struck her chest. He was right—he had never once called it love.

“I never expected you to want love from me,” Regios said quietly.

Her breath caught. No, I never wanted that, she told herself. Yet, she couldn’t deny the feelings she had once mistaken for love.

“I still don’t think of it as love,” he continued, steady and unyielding. To him, what bound them was fate, nothing more.

The truth hit her sharply: she had been naive. His obsession, his insistence, his forceful ways—they didn’t mean love. They were possession, pure and simple.

She stared at him, feeling a strange emptiness. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt—not in the way she had feared. The absence of pain itself left her lonelier than any heartbreak could.

“I see… I misunderstood,” she murmured.

The shock came later, like a delayed blow. Did she still love him? She told herself she didn’t. She had no expectations, no hopes, nothing to ask of him.

And yet, why did it feel as if something inside her had cracked?

Regios sighed low. “Don’t cry.”

“What?”

She realized then that tears were streaming down her cheeks, though she felt no sadness. He clicked his tongue and gently brushed them away.

“I told you, it’s better if you didn’t hear this,” he said, irritation faintly underlying his voice.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“If you’re fine, why are you crying?”

Finally, she understood the truth behind her tears. She wasn’t crying because he didn’t love her. She was crying because she had finally realized that he had never loved her—never once. Not once. And her feelings never mattered to him. She existed for him only because he needed her to.

“It’s unbearable to see you like this,” he muttered.

She closed her eyes, hoping that if she didn’t look at him, the tears might stop. Of course, they didn’t.

“You’re nothing to me,” she whispered, trying to suppress her voice. “Then why am I like this?”

“You’re not nothing,” he said firmly. “It’s not love, but you are still the most important thing to me.”

His words offered no comfort.

“I cannot be without you,” he added. Though it sounded like a confession, there was no warmth behind it. It was mere obsession—the need to keep her nearby. When she had disappeared, he had realized how empty he was without her. Now that she had returned, that emptiness was gone. The sense of completeness it gave him was indescribable. He would never endure that void again.

“I won’t lose you a second time,” he said.

Then, almost casually, he congratulated her. “I won’t come by until the banquet,” he said, “since Lady Seluna will likely be with you every time I visit. Better to leave you alone than have her by your side.”

“You can’t run anymore,” he added, rising to leave. He even instructed her to meet Haylen only in official settings. Somehow, he had known Haylen had secretly visited her the night before. His jealousy, though masked in polite tones, was chilling.

The palace, for all its beauty, felt like a gilded cage. No matter what she did, no rejection could touch him. She could not escape.

Meanwhile, Irine followed Lady Seluna into the Iris Palace. The grandeur of the place dazzled her, a stark reminder of the wealth and beauty she had only glimpsed in passing.

“This place is incredible,” Irine breathed.

“Thanks to you, I’m here too,” Seluna said with a gentle smile. “I was so lonely alone, I thought of you. We’ve been friends the longest, after all.”

Irine was touched. She had always felt the distance between them, a lower-ranking noble and a high-born lady. Yet here Seluna treated her as an equal, a true friend.

“Thank you… for saying that,” Irine replied, slightly surprised.

Seluna’s smile faltered. “If not for Ephelia’s return, this place would have been mine—the position I worked so hard for. Now… it feels like it’s slipping away.”

Irine’s heart burned. How could anyone so undeservedly snatch away Seluna’s place? She would not stand idly by.

“We’re friends. I’ll do whatever I can. You’re not alone in this,” Irine vowed, voice trembling with determination.

Seluna’s lips quivered as if moved and she whispered, “You’re really the only one I can rely on.”

“Irine,” Seluna corrected gently. “Call me Seluna. You’re always so formal—it’s endearing.”

The meaning was clear: Seluna trusted Irine completely, considered her her closest friend. Irine didn’t yet realize that every word and action had been guided by Seluna, who subtly orchestrated her ally’s courage.

Ephelia remained trapped in her gilded cage, and Irine stood ready to fight for her friend. In the palace, fate and possession intertwined with loyalty and friendship, leaving hearts bound and paths uncertain.