It was so hard for Ioan not to just walk up to Romilda and wrap his arms around her. To kiss her senseless and see if that reminded her just who she was with. But he wouldn't, because frightening her wasn't the way to go. So, being a good boy, he remained where he was, propped against the mantel by the fire. Watching her. Watching his girlfriend (his fiancee? the dream was so real!) take a seat yards away from him. She didn't remember him! At all! All she had were words on a page to go by, and who was to say they were true? For her sake, he tried to rein in his expression, but he doubted it was very convincing. Ioan was an emotional person. He didn't believe in hiding what he felt. Which was why he couldn't stop himself from replying with the truth.
"I love you," he said flatly. Not that it meant anything now. "I thought we..." he shook his head. The words weren't coming. He was so out of sorts with this. "We had this great thing, and then the mist came and there were these weird bloody dreams, and now this. I don't...I don't know how to prove it to you, other than the journal. I don't know any spells for restoring memories."
How had she lost them in the first place? His first instinct was to blame someone, anyone. A memory charm could be the cause, and someone would've had to cast it. The next option, less likely, was a potion gone wrong. People just didn't randomly come down with amnesia. And amnesia didn't replace old memories with new ones.