A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 123

The date had crept ever closer to the year’s end, and now the sun knew how to veil time with its heat.

Bathed in evening light, more mellow than the day before, Tilia looked down the steps with a fresh expression.

The first thing she saw was Ilex Davenport, who had just finished a conversation with his aide and was now staring at her in silence. There was a subtle smile on his face, like salt mingled in the seaside breeze—he must’ve seen her exchange with Emily Burgess.

With the expansive staircase stretching wide and tall between them, there was no way he had heard what was said. But even just from seeing her expression from afar, and the shift in Emily Burgess’s complexion, he could surely guess the victory of the woman who shared his bed.

‘I have to go down and tell him right away.’

Tilia, giddy like a child at the thought of boasting about her triumph, suppressed the hum that threatened to burst out as she placed her foot on the step just one tier below.

That’s when it happened.

A gaze, which she hadn’t noticed because her eyes had been fixed on Ilex, now sharply cut through from nearby.

Someone she knew? Tilia belatedly spotted a woman a few steps down, staring quietly at her, and she raised her head with a disinterested face.

‘I’ll just say a quick hello and go—’

But Tilia, who had assumed she was probably just another Ministry employee, was unable to follow through with her intended step. She could only freeze.

Like a spark flung onto dry kindling, the summer—so hot and burning—had passed, and now the season was facing autumn. But the sky still couldn’t let go of the sun it should’ve released long ago, and so it clung to the lingering heat until the edge of dusk.

Though the sun’s force had waned, the light remained vivid, and under that clarity, Tilia looked vacantly at the familiar face as if seeing a stranger.

But no matter how much she tried to feign unfamiliarity, there was no way she could forget that face.

Those gentle eyes. That round nose. The freckled cheeks.

“…Judy.”

It belonged to a friend she had shared a room with for four years—a long-time friend.

Suddenly encountering Judy Wells—now Lady Bartlett—Tilia was just as flustered as she had been the first time she’d run into Ilex, completely at a loss for what to do.

She couldn’t even begin to think of what to say.

‘How have you been?’ sounded silly. ‘I missed you,’ felt too fake now.

While she stood frozen, unable to find any words, Judy simply looked at her quietly.

In truth, Tilia had thought about reaching out. She’d considered sending a letter, contacting her somehow. She’d wanted to explain—there were reasons, that someone’s meddling had kept her feelings from being conveyed, that she never meant to cut off all contact.

But—

“Judy Bartlett? Hmm, I think she’s doing well. Oh, right, she’s probably pregnant now. I remember Victor Bartlett sent a letter about it once.”

The response Ilex had given to her cautious inquiry had stopped her cold.

Pregnant. A word that, in her life, felt as foreign as a language from another land—yet it served as a harsh reminder of just how long three years truly was.

She had forgotten. Just because the one lying next to her remained the same didn’t mean everyone else would, too. The world couldn’t possibly have stood still in her glittering yet meager academy days.

Judy had married, become pregnant, and was preparing to become a mother.

To someone in the midst of such a life, the old friend from her Wells family days might’ve already been long forgotten.

Her world was no longer defined by being the youngest daughter of a knight family. It was surely now filled with many more vivid, varied colors.

That friend, more suited to a stable, loving home life than anyone else she knew, was no doubt enjoying the sweet, affectionate marriage she had always dreamed of.

Then what was the point of showing up after three years to pour out some long-winded story? Wouldn’t it just be awkward and uncomfortable?

Trying to revive a memory better left as a fond recollection—wasn’t that like offering up food that had long since spoiled?

After much deliberation, Tilia had discarded the carefully written letter congratulating her on the pregnancy. But even after doing so, she couldn’t quite let go, and had secretly looked up the address of the Bartlett residence where Judy now lived.

She probably wouldn’t visit. And even if she did, she’d likely just hover at the front and leave. Still, she wanted—just once—to see her friend’s face, and know she was doing well.

Since they lived under the same Arkansis sky, she had expected they might run into each other at least once—but she hadn’t thought it would be today.

Just as Tilia was belatedly preparing to say the words she had always wanted to say if she ever met Judy again—Congratulations on your pregnancy—it happened.

Judy, her eyes trembling violently, pressed her lips together and simply brushed past Tilia.

She passed by. Judy passed by her.

Even though their eyes had unmistakably met—without so much as a single greeting.

Tilia, before she even realized it, found herself staring blankly at the back of her friend disappearing into the building, then belatedly realized something.

The habit of trembling lips. It was something Judy, so gentle by nature, only showed when she was very angry.

***

“…So, let’s go to that villa for the winter holidays.”

Leaning lazily against the headboard, holding Tilia from behind, Ilex whispered softly into her ear.

“Buried in the snow, spending our days like this past week. Just like when we reunited.”

What do you think, Tilia? His voice was filled with a mellow sense of anticipation, but no answer came.

Lowering his head slightly, he peeked at her profile and saw her finely shaped face deep in thought.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said ‘like this past week.’

Clicking his tongue inwardly, Ilex lightly squeezed and released Tilia’s breast, as if urging her to answer.

But the one who got swept away by that gesture was himself.

Seduced by the supple fullness that filled his hand in an instant, Ilex gently tugged down the thin fabric of Tilia’s nightgown, exposing her white breasts.

Her nipples, like cherries atop a cake, had changed slightly in color and shape compared to last spring. Darker, fuller—what once looked immature now appeared far more lewd.

Something I created. Something I changed.

The low, crude thought surged up in him, filling his chest with a visceral satisfaction. The thought that he could possess Tilia’s firsts, her present, and her end filled him with a euphoria beyond mere sexual arousal.

Breathing hotly, Ilex began kneading her breasts softly, as if molding dough. The tender flesh deformed lewdly in his hand.

The more he tasted her beautiful body, the thirstier he became—like drinking seawater, the more you drank, the more parched you felt.

And like the fatal saltiness of seawater, the deeper he indulged in her body, the more it felt like he was destroying himself.

If someday Tilia asked for his heart, he would crush his own ribs without hesitation.

In the end, his life and death were no longer his own—they rested in her hands. Having already lost the ability to discern right from wrong, all he could do now was trust her judgment.

Just as he was adjusting his posture to properly play with her breasts, the woman nestled against him spoke in a low voice.

“…About Judy, earlier.”

Tilia, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke.

“Didn’t it… not look like she was pregnant?”

At her words, Ilex lifted his gaze from the stiffening nipple he had been staring at and looked at her.

“Not sure.”

Maybe, maybe not. Honestly, he had been too focused on Tilia to even notice that the woman was Judy Bartlett. It wasn’t until Tilia, inside the carriage, told him that the woman who had brushed past them was Judy, that her faint face even came to mind.

“When did you say you heard that Judy was pregnant?”

“I don’t remember exactly. Maybe about half a year ago?”

“Then she should definitely be showing by now, right? But when I saw her just now, she didn’t look it.”

“She probably had a miscarriage.”

Suppressing his urge to continue groping her breast, Ilex slid his hand down to her belly. He desperately wanted to engulf the adorably perked tip of her breast in his mouth, but he knew now wasn’t the time.

“Miscarriage?”

As expected, Tilia’s face paled, and she turned around.

Ilex kissed her lightly on the forehead and nodded.

A miscarriage in early pregnancy wasn’t uncommon. It happened often even to healthy mothers, and even when the fetus appeared perfectly fine.

Even when he tried to soften the explanation with kinder words, Tilia’s ashen complexion showed no sign of recovering.

“…Miscarriage.”

Ilex, muttering along with her, wrapped his arms tightly around her trembling shoulders with a slightly puzzled look.

Why is she so shocked?

Wasn’t she planning to cut ties anyway?