A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 125

The price for breaking the peace treaty on the bed as he pleased was clear.

“Let’s eat out tonight. I know a decent place.”

Ilex, with a handprint still on his cheek, said as he tied the back ribbon of Tilia’s skirt.

“I don’t want to.”

She rejected him flatly, snatching the ribbon from his hand coldly. As if she had only ever let him do it because she wanted to, Tilia tied the ribbon more skillfully than Ilex and packed her bag, delivering her declaration.

“I have plans for tonight. Don’t wait for me.”

“Plans? With who?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

Responding not coyly but rather with a hint of chilliness to his urgent question, Tilia met the man’s eyes in the mirror across from her and continued.

“Just know that I’ll be home late.”

At those words, the Ilex in the mirror slightly furrowed his brow, then narrowed his eyes as if suspecting something.

“Your plans today, don’t tell me…”

He seemed about to ask something, stepping forward—but Tilia didn’t allow the approach.

She shouldered her heavy bag and brushed past him with a cold air. Ilex, unable to grab her shoulder in time against her momentum, could only gaze helplessly at the neatly swinging ribbon knot.

***

For the first time since coming to Arkansis, Tilia left work without Ilex Davenport and looked ahead with a tense face.

The sunlight, beginning to take on a faint orange hue, made the cream-colored mansion look even more dazzling.

The Bartlett estate. Tilia rechecked the address of the mansion she had come to and watched as a butler approached her.

“Miss Tilia.”

Surprisingly, he was someone she knew. A middle-aged man—he had been one of the servants from the Wells family that she had come to know naturally while growing close to Judy a few years ago.

The butler of the Bartlett house, reading the words ‘How come you’re here?’ on Tilia’s face, opened his mouth naturally as he led her inside.

“When Miss Judy married and moved into the Bartlett mansion, several of the Wells family’s servants transferred to her new home. I was among them.”

Only after hearing those words did Tilia truly feel the reality of ‘Judy’s marriage’—something she hadn’t quite grasped even while on her way to the Bartlett estate.

Her kind, gentle friend had truly become not ‘Judy Wells,’ but ‘Judy Bartlett.’

Lady Bartlett. Though she understood it in her head, the moment she spoke it, the friend’s new name still felt foreign. Muttering it under her breath, Tilia squeezed the handle of the paper bag she held tightly.

It contained a luxury ice cream gift set she had once wanted to give to her friend long ago—but hadn’t been able to afford back then.

“Ah, if you had come just a bit earlier, you could have met Lady Wells too. She’s been visiting the Bartlett mansion often these days.”

Unaware of Tilia’s complicated thoughts, the familiar-faced butler chatted warmly. But when they reached the drawing room, he shifted to a much more formal demeanor as he placed his hand on the doorknob.

“Miss Judy—or rather, Lady Bartlett—and Lady Wells have missed you dearly, Miss Tilia.”

Just before opening the door, the butler whispered in a slightly lowered voice, as if afraid the conversation might leak beyond.

“Of course, I missed you too. It’s wonderful to see you looking so healthy again, Miss.”

He quickly returned to a lively tone, winking as if he hadn’t just worn such a solemn face.

“Thank you, Charles.”

At his playful expression, Tilia smiled for the first time since entering the mansion, recalling the old days when he used to sneak her extra dessert boxes.

“And the mustache suits you well. You look much more gentlemanly.”

At those words, Charles shyly stroked his newly grown mustache and laughed like a boy. It was a youthful brightness unexpected of a middle-aged butler.

Without realizing it, Tilia smiled even more deeply than before and stepped into the room through the door he held open.

It was as if stepping through that single door led into another world—the air inside the corridor and the drawing room felt distinctly different.

Tilia cautiously scanned the room, sensing that the indoor air felt strangely colder than outside.

Finding Judy wasn’t difficult.

Of course—because she was the only one in the spacious drawing room.

Tilia looked at the woman sitting on the pink sofa in front of the fireplace reading a book, and slowly let her lifted lips fall.

During her time working in Ontaroa, it had been a coincidence that Tilia learned of Judy’s marriage.

They were days when she had even cut off receiving the Arkansis news bulletin after hearing about Ilex’s engagement. Days when she pretended not to see even if she saw, pretended not to hear even if she heard, turning her back on any news from her homeland. It was in front of her during such a time that a colleague sitting next to her, Norbert Karel, shoved a newspaper in her face.

“Secretary Ambrose, you said you graduated from Arkansis Royal Academy, right? Do classmates there often end up marrying each other?”

Normally, she would have ignored such words, but she couldn’t this time, because she had accidentally skimmed the headline of a small corner article and spotted a familiar name.

Lady of the Wells family to marry Victor Bartlett, eldest son of the Bartlett family.

Seeing the title, she forgot all thoughts of ignoring it and ended up reading the article in a trance. It was a small piece tucked away in the corner, summarizing that Judy Wells, daughter of the commander of the Royal Third Knight Order, and Victor Bartlett, also from the Royal Knight Order, were to marry after a year-long engagement.

“Didn’t the Duke of Davenport also get engaged to an academy classmate? At this rate, isn’t the Arkansis Academy more of a matchmaking institution than a school?”

Norbert Karel’s provocative remark didn’t even reach her ears.

Victor Bartlett, if she remembered right… Yes, that man. The one she used to study with for the graduation exams. When and how had those two gotten together?

Tilia, who hadn’t even known that Judy had been engaged for a whole year, could only read and reread the article with a blank face.

Even after returning home after work, she remained dazed. She had thought—at the very least—that Judy would have told her about the wedding.

For a while, quite a while, she stayed gloomily immersed in those thoughts. In the end, after much hesitation, she gathered her courage and bought a new set of stationery for the first time in a long while. She painstakingly wrote a congratulatory letter.

Of course, no reply came. Back then, it had hurt so much. It had been so terribly painful.

But now she knew. The truth was that the letter had simply failed to reach its destination. Judy hadn’t chosen not to reply—she had been unable to.

Judy must have been just as hurt, maybe even more than she herself had been.

“Judy.”

Finishing the brief recollection, Tilia brought herself back to the present and looked at the woman before her.

Three years really had passed—Judy’s overall demeanor had changed. Her slimmer face looked more mature, and the way she sat so upright gave off the impression of a dignified lady rather than a young girl.

But some things hadn’t changed. Like her preference for keeping her nails trimmed short, and the way the sides of her hair would start to frizz by the afternoon.

“Have you… been well?”

Leaning on the familiar details she recognized, Tilia cautiously stepped one foot closer to her.

“I should have reached out as soon as I returned, but I was late…”

“Yes, I’ve been well, Tilia.”

Smack. As if to block her approach, Judy closed the book in her hand with a sharp snap.

Only then, when she saw Judy lift her gaze toward her, did Tilia freeze mid-step.

In those hazel eyes—eyes that had once always been warm—there now lingered a chill she had never seen before.

“You seem to have been doing quite well yourself.”

While Tilia stood frozen by the coldness she received for the first time from the ever-gentle Judy, the woman touched her forehead with a slight grimace.

“Sorry, but I have a bit of a headache today.”

“……”

“I’d like you to leave now.”

With that, silence fell over the drawing room.

Unable to say anything, Tilia merely hesitated, then, like a child who had been scolded, awkwardly placed the ice cream she had brought onto the corner of the table.

“This is… ice cream. I bought it for us to share, but I guess we won’t be able to eat it together today.”

Judy didn’t even spare a glance at the paper box Tilia had put down.

At that blatant disregard, Tilia bit her lip hard and turned away.

But before she could take even one step toward the door—

“I’m sorry for leaving Arkansis without saying anything.”

Tilia, summoning the courage that had been hiding away to avoid getting hurt, turned back once again.