A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 126

“It really wasn’t on purpose. I had… circumstances I couldn’t avoid too.”

Tilia’s courage, held by the arm of a powerless master, kept trying to flee in struggle.

But Tilia, who had barely any experience venturing outside, firmly grabbed its pale arm and persisted.

“I’ll tell you. Why I had to leave like that, and why I couldn’t even send a single letter…”

“I know, Tilia.”

It was then.

Judy, who had been surrendering herself to the stillness all along, interrupted Tilia’s words.

“You must’ve had your reasons. You always did. There were always stories you couldn’t tell me.”

Judy’s eyes, which she closed and opened in a nervous gesture, were fixed to the corner of the table.

Taking a deep breath as if trying to endure something, but ultimately unable to swallow what was boiling over, Judy spoke rapidly.

“Let me ask just one thing, Tilia. Was I ever really your friend?”

“What do you mean? Of course, to me, you were—”

“Then did you ever once think about how worried I must have been when you just disappeared like that?”

Judy’s voice broke into thin fragments at the end. It was the classic sign shown by those who do not enjoy hurting others when they act against their nature.

Only after hearing those words could Tilia finally realize.

Judy hadn’t changed. The three years hadn’t turned her into someone else.

She was still the kind and warm-hearted Judy.

Only her feelings toward Tilia had changed.

“You always did that. Whether it was your family matters, or your issues with Ilex Davenport, or even your smallest emotions—you never properly told me anything.”

Judy’s voice, pitching off-key in all directions, carried passion. It was a voice unaccustomed even to herself, and because of that unfamiliarity, it struck Tilia’s heart all the harder.

“You know what?”

Still refusing to meet Tilia’s eyes, Judy muttered self-mockingly.

“I knew. I knew you were sneaking out at dawn to meet Ilex Davenport.”

The moment her words reached Tilia’s understanding, it felt like something dropped heavily onto her chest.

“So I would fall asleep early every day. And even so, I waited every day. Telling myself, ‘Tomorrow, she’ll tell me. Maybe next week, she’ll tell me. At least before we graduate, she’ll explain it all.'”

At those words, memories of the past came flooding back all at once.

“Tilia, you know… Can’t you tell me now? What exactly is going on between you and Ilex Davenport?”

During the days when they shared a room, Judy had cautiously asked her several times about her relationship with Ilex.

And how had Tilia responded back then? She had always denied it, busy changing the subject. Busy hiding the truth from her friend.

But even back then, Judy must have known to some extent. And even so, she had forgiven Tilia’s fumbling evasions and waited, believing that someday she would hear the truth.

“But what I got in return was your sudden disappearance.”

Still stubbornly staring only at the ice cream box Tilia had brought, Judy finally lifted her head to meet her gaze.

The moment their eyes met, Tilia was overwhelmed by a guilt incomparable to anything she had felt before.

Judy was crying.

And it wasn’t like any tear Tilia had seen from her before. It was the kind of deep, old sorrow that could only come from being wounded by someone you had truly trusted and relied upon.

The realization that she was the one who had caused such a wound in that kind friend, that she was the one who had made that sorrow spill over, left Tilia feeling so unbearably sorry she didn’t know what to do.

“I guess… I was the only one who thought we were friends.”

Judy murmured in a voice that had collapsed like a fire reduced to ash.

Tilia couldn’t even deny it. Nor could she utter the words ‘I’m sorry,’ which felt far too light compared to the crushing guilt consuming her. All she could do was mindlessly tear at the hangnail on her finger until it bled.

“Please leave.”

Turning her gaze away from Tilia once more, Judy picked up her book as if to cut off the conversation.

“And please, don’t ever come looking for me like this again.”

***

It felt like she had been struck on the head.

Tilia, staring out at the passing scenery, could only let it drift across her retinas without registering anything.

Judy had known all along. She had known and only pretended to be asleep.

In Tilia’s mind, only those words and the crying face of her friend—which she felt she would never be able to forget for the rest of her life—kept circling around.

Why hadn’t she noticed the oddness of her roommate suddenly starting to go to bed early back then?

Clearly, she had been so preoccupied with her own survival that she thought she didn’t need to care about others’ feelings.

Lost in layered regrets, she let out sighs, so much so that she didn’t even notice the carriage had arrived at its destination.

It wasn’t until a light knock sounded at the carriage door that Tilia realized she was home and hurriedly moved.

However, even as someone helped her down from the carriage, Tilia was still replaying the previous situation in her mind. More precisely, she was searching for a way to resolve the matter.

“You said you’d be home late.”

Because of that, she only belatedly noticed that the hand wrapping around hers carried a very familiar warmth.

Startled by the voice that came from above her head, she looked up, and naturally, the master of the house escorting her into the mansion came into view.

“Looks like you missed me and came home early.”

Behind Ilex, who whispered with one eye half-closed, the sunset was letting out its final scream as it set.

The man who suited the brilliant sunlight—now about to vanish—so well that it was almost frightening, caught Tilia’s gaze in a daze.

It was only a little belatedly that she managed to reply.

“No, that’s not it.”

Of course, even if she denied it like that, Ilex wasn’t listening in the slightest.

“Why the face? Did something bad happen at your rendezvous, leaving your lover behind?”

He lightly asked as he naturally wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her toward him.

“The coachman said you went to the Bartlett mansion.”

“……”

“Did your meeting with Judy Bartlett end badly?”

That’s strange. Unlike me, a friend who even wrote you letters shouldn’t have treated you coldly.

Though he spoke as if it were nothing, there was a sullen tone hidden all throughout his words.

Yet Tilia, half-draped in his arms as they headed to her room, didn’t even notice that easy-to-read signal of jealousy.

Still trapped in the same loop of thoughts she had been stuck in during the carriage ride, she finally couldn’t hold it in and blurted out,

“Ilex.”

“Yeah?”

“You… do you have a lot of friends?”

At the sudden and random question, the man measured her with his eyes for a moment, then replied in a casual tone, “I have a lot of subordinates.”

“……”

“Subordinates around my age, too.”

“……”

“Isn’t that enough?”

As if. Tilia made a genuinely displeased face, shrugged off his arms, and stepped out of his embrace.

It’s my fault. I should’ve asked someone else. Why ask Ilex Davenport of all people.

Ignoring him as he tried to cling back onto her, Tilia trudged forward with heavy steps.

***

“…So, that’s how it happened.”

But in the end, Tilia had no choice but to seek advice from Ilex Davenport after all.

The first reason was that he was the only one who knew about her complicated situation.

The second was that he had been doggedly pestering her about it all through dinner.

And most importantly, the third reason was that, truthfully, Tilia herself didn’t have many friends.

For such critical reasons, Tilia ended up confessing the story to him, muttering while rubbing the back of her head against his chest.

“Judy cried. I couldn’t even properly say I’m sorry.”

The place where the two of them sat was an armchair placed in the backyard, surrounded by the sounds of insects.

Normally, they would have lain together in Tilia’s bedroom and chatted, but because of the events of the previous night, Ilex was currently banned from entering her room for a week.

Having firmly blocked Ilex’s subtle attempts to slip in, Tilia had dragged him out to the backyard instead.

However, she hadn’t managed to stop him from slyly pushing one of the chairs closer, so she was now perched on his lap as if indulging him.

“Judy Bartlett knew you were sneaking out to meet me at dawn, huh.”

Ilex seemed to share the same surprise she felt.

“Yeah.”

She answered glumly, and Ilex lightly stroked the area near her fingernails as he asked, “And the letter?”

“Hm?”

“The letter you said you wrote but couldn’t deliver. Where is it?”

“Ah, that…”

Tilia trailed off and subtly glanced behind her.

She had confessed everything else honestly—but not about the letter. She couldn’t even explain how the letters she had sent had ended up in Norbert Karel’s hands.

‘Though I have a pretty good idea who the culprit is…’

Biting her lip, Tilia recalled the name of the one she suspected—the one tied to the secret she had uncovered in Norbert Karel’s cabinet—something she could never tell Ilex.