A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 11

Tilia quickly scanned the area as she exited through the entrance opposite to where Gregory Myers was standing guard.

Behind the main building where the exam was being held, there was a path leading to the Liberal Arts Building with a small lake nearby. Well-maintained trees and gazebos scattered about were frequented by men seemingly always waiting for an opportunity. If she could get there, surely, someone would fulfill her needs.

Breathing heavily, Tilia moved forward with a desperate heart.

***

However.

The path she hurried to was completely empty.

‘Why…?’

As she looked over the quiet forest and the vacant benches, Tilia realized that the entire academy was still in the middle of the exam period. Even the most carefree students here had passed the notorious entrance exams. Most of them were likely in the library, classrooms, or at their dorms preparing for exams.

Tilia clenched her teeth, forcing herself not to cry as she slumped down again. Even amidst all this, she felt the side effects continuing to progress as her body heated up more and more. She shuddered as a new kind of desire, one she had never experienced before, seemed to claw at her insides.

‘Please, someone, anyone…’

Cornered, Tilia was even considering the worst option of Gregory Myers when she noticed a pair of long legs stretched out from a bench under a nearby tree’s shade.

It was a man.

Her eyes gleamed when she saw the man’s shoes—expensive, high-quality men’s shoes. Like a person stranded in a desert spotting an oasis, Tilia rushed toward the bench.

It was late spring, on the verge of summer. The sun hung high in the sky, glaring down at the world. The heat from the sunlight warmed her black hair, and the air seemed thick and hot, but she didn’t even notice as she ran. Compared to the fever emanating from her own body, the outside temperature felt cool.

‘Save me.’

That phrase repeated itself in her mind over and over.

‘Please, just help me somehow.’

Overcome with desperate desire, Tilia sprinted toward the bench. But as soon as she realized who was sitting there, her feet came to an abrupt halt. Her worn-out shoes hesitated on the fresh grass.

‘No.’

The reasoning she thought had been completely devoured screamed out through a narrow gap in her mind.

‘Not that Arkansis scum!’

‘Why not?’

But almost immediately, her instincts squashed that rational thought.

‘Think about it, Tilia. There’s no one better than Ilex Davenport.’

Her lustful instincts, awakened by holy water, dredged up past conversations in a sultry voice.

“Ilex Davenport pulled another girl into his dorm yesterday. What was her name again? She’s a new student, I think.”

‘He’s someone who would easily agree if you asked to sleep with him. That’s the first condition, met.’

The seductive voice echoed in Tilia’s ears, whispering sweetly.

“Look who’s here! Isn’t this the young lord who just got confessed to again?”

He’s had enough women that you wouldn’t mean much to him. The second condition, also met.’

Tilia watched as the wind tousled the man’s blond hair, her ears tuned to the enticing whispers.

‘And third, he’s got a better face than Gregory Myers… Don’t you already know the answer to that?’

Her instincts giggled as they whispered slyly.

‘There’s no comparison. Think it through. If you’re going to do it anyway, wouldn’t it be better with a guy who’s at least handsome?’

Her reasoning was long gone, offering no resistance.

Like a puppet on strings, Tilia staggered toward the bench where he lay. The sunlight that had been scorching her head disappeared behind the leaves of a tree.

Her pale legs stepped into the shadow that marked his domain. However, the man on the bench, who must have noticed her presence, didn’t move. Wiping the sweat from her palms on her skirt, Tilia called his name.

“Ilex Davenport.”

Even at the sound of his name, the man didn’t stir.

“Do you… want to sleep with me?”

At her second words, his polished shoe twitched slightly.

Tilia watched as he slowly lowered the book that had been covering his face, feeling her palms grow damp again.

As his concealed face was revealed, Tilia felt her hands growing clammy once more behind her back.

‘See? I told you, it’s better to sleep with a handsome guy,’ the voice of her instincts cackled, growing louder and softer like a ringing in her ears.

The disheveled blond hair framed a well-defined nose, perfectly balanced, and his sleepy eyes had a dreamy, almost otherworldly quality to them. His pale gray eyes slowly swept over Tilia as if trying to figure out who had made such a request.

Everywhere his gaze landed, it felt as though flowers of heat were blooming. Her legs twisted involuntarily, and sticky saliva filled her mouth. It felt as if she were already standing naked in front of him.

Finally, as his gaze returned to her face, Ilex’s beautiful face slowly tilted to the right.

“You.”

But the words that emerged from his red lips were nothing like what she had expected.

“Do you know me?”

Tilia, who had been lost in her chaotic thoughts, froze as if doused in cold water.

Reality finally hit. The reasoning that had been numbed by desire pushed forward in her mind.

Ilex Davenport had propped himself up on his elbow, partially sitting up. Though he was half-lying on the bench, his gaze held the kind of authority that belonged to someone who never looked up from below.

Even without a tie, his shirt was still high-class, custom-tailored, and the shoes he carelessly wore were made from the hide of some rare creature Tilia didn’t even recognize.

Every inch of him radiated a casual, effortless elegance—an elegance reserved for those who had never once run barefoot.

And in comparison, what about her?

Tilia realized what a state she must be in, reflected in his eyes. Her skirt, crumpled from wiping her sweaty hands, must be filthy. Her hair, tangled and drenched in sweat. Her flushed face, splotchy and disheveled. Her drunken-looking eyes, surely unfocused and disgraceful.

Realizing the vast gulf between them, Tilia unconsciously took a step back.

Now she remembered. Ilex Davenport didn’t sleep with just “any” woman.

The memory of the freshman girl he had rejected at the stairwell flooded her mind, and the sharp sting of shame and regret hit her like a blow to the head.

What had she just said?

What was she about to do with Ilex Davenport?

As Tilia took another shaky step backward, her legs trembling uncontrollably, Ilex spoke again.

“Tilia Ambrose.”

Hearing him call her name, her head jerked up.

“I asked, do you know me?”

Mesmerized, Tilia stared at Ilex, who was looking at her with a slight frown. Unlike her, standing in the blazing sunlight, Ilex sat comfortably in the cool shade.

As she watched the breeze tickle his cheek, a voice whispered in her ear.

‘What’s so different between you and Ilex?’

It wasn’t the voice of reason or instinct.

‘He’s just as human as you.’

It was the whisper of her inferiority.

The same whisper that had always festered in her heart, smothering her on dark nights. A resentment that grew no matter how hard she tried to crush it.

‘Drag him down to where you are.’

“Tilia Ambrose?”

Strip away his expensive clothes, and wasn’t he just another body, like hers? As grand as he seemed, in the end, he was just another man, destined to be brought down by his desires.

With envious eyes, Tilia stared at the man who surely owned the biggest carriage in the academy and likely some of the finest horses in the kingdom.

“You don’t look well.”

“I’m… fine.”

Tilia finally spoke, pulling her hand, which had been hidden behind her back, forward.

“I’m fine.”

If he were in the same situation as her, he too would end up a mess, panting and yearning for another. And right now, more than anything, she wanted to see him like that.

She wanted to see him roll around in the filth, just like her.

Wearing a painted smile, Tilia took one slow step after another toward him. The harsh sunlight finally left her black hair, and the dark, soothing shade embraced her.

“More importantly, Ilex Davenport.”

Tilia smiled seductively, hoping that her appearance would entice him.

“What do you think?”

She was determined to drag that shining figure down into the same mire she was wallowing in.

Even if it was just for a brief moment of pleasure.

Even if it was just a few hours of a fleeting dream.

“Do you… want to sleep with me?”

She was going to watch him fall, just like her, into the abyss.

“……”

But there was no answer from Davenport.

He simply watched the flustered Tilia, quietly observing her as if she were some rare animal.