Two-Faced Princess - Chapter 295

Amoretta gazed at the woman in the mirror.

Her skin was as clear as milk, without a single blemish. Her black hair was soft as the finest silk. Her features were so delicate that they seemed impossible to recreate even in a painting, and her deep eyes shone with a mysterious light.

She was beautiful.

It was a pretty face.

And she despised it. Throughout her life, countless people have desired her because of it. Many times, this led Amoretta to face calamities. There was the Count Diaman she met in Lishan, the Duke of Fortrus, and even though she hated to admit it, Paris was no exception.

The man who first introduced her to love was both her salvation and her doom.

Her life had been tiresome, filled with tiresome people. Now, at last, Amoretta was ready to sever ties with it all.

However, she had one last task; to bid farewell to the benefactor who had saved her life in Lishan. It was Amoretta’s only remaining duty and regret.

“I’m going for a short walk,” she casually told one of the maids and left the prince’s palace. The meeting place, arranged through Evangeline, was the Sarbia Garden.

The garden was owned by Paris, and entry was forbidden to anyone but him. Years ago, his close friends used it, but after Gares Liper made a grave mistake, it remained closed to outsiders.

“The caretaker will leave for about a minute just before 7 o’clock. Don’t miss that moment,” Evangeline had informed her through a note. How a princess, virtually enslaved, knew such a thing was beyond Amoretta, but she trusted her.

‘It’s true.’

The usual guard was absent, likely due to an urgent call.

Her heart raced as she passed the entrance.

It was a brief encounter years ago, and she hadn’t gotten a clear look at the woman’s face. Yet, she was the one who changed Amoretta’s life entirely. During her most desperate moments, when she loathed not only her surroundings but herself, this woman appeared.

Amoretta had harmed people with her powers, inflicting terrible pain on countless innocent souls. How many poisons and curses had she crafted under the threats from Count Diaman? Even after learning of his downfall, she saw no other way out but to end her life.

If not for that woman, Amoretta would have been caught and executed by the soldiers, never having known true happiness.

But she did more than just help Amoretta escape. She listened to Amoretta’s confessions with compassion.

The only person who knew all of Amoretta’s secrets, yet never judged, threatened, or demanded anything in return. Her mere existence gave Amoretta a renewed sense of hope.

But that intense meeting soon faded, replaced by Paris in her memories. With his tender voice and captivating smile, he became the first true joy she’d ever known.

That smile, that longing, those eyes full of love overwhelmed her at one point, blurring all past connections, even memories of that woman.

That was until Evangeline appeared.

Facing despair once more, that woman miraculously offered Amoretta an escape. Even though Amoretta felt too depleted to accept the kindness, she yearned to see the woman’s face.

‘Who exactly is she?’

From the moment she met Evangeline, she understood that the previous introduction of her as merely a ‘traveler passing through Lishan’ was false. How could a seemingly ordinary woman have such command over the princess of Razan?

And how had she found Amoretta, especially considering she had never once left the dwelling Paris had assigned her?

Rustle-

After waiting a few minutes on a garden bench, she heard footsteps, and a silhouette appeared at the garden’s shadowy entrance.

It was a lone figure, draped head to toe in a deep brown robe. Amoretta’s heart raced as memories from long ago surged back.

The silhouette, or rather, the woman, gradually came into view, revealing her lips hidden beneath the robe and her graceful stride. She was identical to the woman she had seen five years prior. Instinctively, Amoretta rose to face her.

“It’s been a while.”

It was unmistakably her. Amoretta recognized her voice instantly. More mature than she recalled, yet in that brief greeting, her distinct air of dignity was palpable.

Amoretta felt tears threatening to form.

In the shadowed garden where crimson flowers blossomed, the two women stood, locking eyes, neither moving an inch.

“…I’ve wanted to see you. So much.”

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