A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 127

“Did you throw it away?”

Perhaps interpreting her silence differently, Ilex asked.

“No, I still have it.”

“Then just give that to her.”

As she hurriedly answered, a listless voice followed.

“If you give her the letters you wrote, things will mostly work out.”

“…Did you even listen to what I said? I told you Judy cried and got really angry. I’ve never seen her like that before.”

“She got angry because she cares. She felt betrayed because there was trust.”

Unlike Tilia, who turned around with an incredulous expression, Ilex wore an indifferent face.

“The reason she cried and got mad was because she wants you to resolve it. You have the will to make up, and you have proof you can.”

“……”

“So just bring her the letters. Go apologize and explain. Then it’ll be solved.”

After a brief silence, Tilia hesitantly spoke, “…What if it doesn’t work?”

Her voice, asking back, was as faint as the sound of grasshoppers crying far away.

“If it doesn’t work out, what do I do?”

Ilex answered with the clarity of someone solving a very simple math problem, but Tilia’s heart was not so simple.

Until now, she had rarely apologized to others. It wasn’t because she had never done anything wrong, but rather because she had never really wanted to maintain a relationship badly enough to apologize.

“But if Judy sees the letters and still doesn’t forgive me… if she remains disappointed in me, what then?”

However, Judy was different. For the first time, it wasn’t the apology itself she feared—it was the fear that the apology might not be accepted. She was afraid that the mistake she had made would remain a permanent scar, making it impossible to restore her friend’s heart.

She wanted things to go back to the way they were, back when they shared a room. She wanted to stay close friends.

“Even after seeing the letters, she might still hate me…”

Ilex, sensing the child hiding within Tilia—the one who hadn’t been able to grow properly due to an abnormal childhood—quietly hugged her.

“I envy you, Judy Bartlett.”

Yet even as he embraced her, he couldn’t hide the sharp tinge of jealousy in his voice as he lightly bit her shoulder and whispered.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry. She’ll forgive you.”

“……”

“If you’re really anxious, bring her a bouquet and some jewelry too.”

“…Isn’t that something men give when they confess?”

“Why do you think only men give that stuff when confessing?”

Muttering like a beast grinding its teeth, he couldn’t leave her shoulder and neck alone as he grumbled.

“Women like that kind of thing, that’s why.”

Is that so? Thinking it was a bit strange but pushed along by his momentum, Tilia unknowingly nodded.

Jewelry and a bouquet…

What should I buy?

Tilia absentmindedly tried to recall what kind of flowers Judy liked, when she realized she was stroking Ilex’s arm without thinking and lowered her head.

On his solid arm, which naturally wrapped around her belly, there was an old scar. It was a burn mark, a little too large for the body of a noble son of a duke.

“…When did you get this scar?”

Recalling the mismatched scars scattered across his beautiful body, Tilia gently caressed the burn and asked quietly.

“Who knows.”

The man, too preoccupied with nibbling on her shoulder, gave an insincere reply.

“I don’t remember.”

“It’s so big though… How can you—ah, don’t bite there.”

Tilia, about to protest that there’s no way he couldn’t remember, frowned slightly as his teeth grazed near her collarbone and pushed him away.

“It’ll show when I get dressed tomorrow.”

“……”

“Ah!”

But that was a comment she would have been better off not making.

He stared at her silently, then smirked wickedly and began scattering red marks all over her neck.

“Punishment.”

In the murmured voice of the man, there was a deep, unmistakable tinge of resentment that even Tilia could no longer fail to notice.

***

In the end, the next day, Tilia, wearing a blouse that came up to her neck, stood once again in front of the Bartlett estate with a tense face. In one hand, she held freesia, one of Judy’s many favorite types of flowers, and in the other, a luxurious box decorated with a satin ribbon.

Refusing the wallet Ilex had pressed into her hand, she clutched the gift box she had bought from a specialty jeweler using her saved-up salary, her face set with determination.

Following the familiar-faced butler with the same kindness as before, her bag, filled with letters, bounced vigorously on her shoulder with each of her footsteps.

“Oh my, Tilia.”

In the Bartlett mansion’s drawing room, decorated warmly, there was one more person sitting there than last time.

Seeing Judy, Tilia, who had been full of resolve, faltered the moment she belatedly recognized the face of the person sitting beside her.

“…Lady Wells.”

The title she had often thought of along with Judy, the one she had dearly missed, slipped from her lips, and as soon as she muttered it, the Countess rose from her seat and hurried over to her.

In that moment, Tilia, instinctively tense, hunched her shoulders tightly.

“Tilia.”

But what touched her stiffened shoulders was a gentle hand. It was a warm touch that reminded her of the spring that had already passed.

“Oh dear. Tilia, Tilia.”

Repeatedly murmuring her name, the Countess Grace Wells embraced her and released her again and again, her eyes soon moist with tears.

“Have you been well? How could you not send even a single letter? Do you know how much I waited?”

“…I’m sorry. It’s just that…”

“It’s alright, as long as you’ve been healthy and well. That’s all that matters.”

Grace let out a long sigh, a mixture of complex emotions but most of all, overwhelming relief, and as she gently caressed Tilia’s slightly reddened eyes, she muttered,

“Yes, as long as you’ve been healthy and well, that’s all that matters. What more could I ask for?”

“……”

At that endless affection requiring no excuses, Tilia’s nose burned with emotion.

Auntie. Overwhelmed by such undeserved kindness, Tilia almost voiced the affectionate title she had never dared to say despite countless encouragements.

“…Ahem.”

Behind Lady Wells, an uncomfortable cough sounded.

Only then did Tilia and Grace realize that this was not the Wells estate’s drawing room, nor a private place just for the two of them, and they hastily pulled apart.

“Well, I’ll step out for a moment.”

Watching her daughter’s uneasy expression, the Countess cautiously retreated.

“I’ll be in the drawing room on another floor, so be sure to come find me after your talk.”

Even as she said this, she didn’t forget to tightly squeeze Tilia’s pale hand.

After Tilia nodded meekly in understanding, she heard the hurried footsteps fade away, followed by the sound of the door closing.

“……”

After that, only silence remained.

Immersed in the stillness that floated through the room, Tilia fiddled with the gift box and bouquet in her hands.

Even though she was well aware that Tilia was watching her, Judy stubbornly kept her eyes fixed on the book before her, not realizing it was upside down.

“Um…”

The dust floating in front of her eyes settled, and the sunset streaming through the window shifted slightly in angle. It was then that Tilia finally opened the apology she had been mulling over since the night before.

“I’m sorry.”

Yet despite her long contemplation, it was a terribly plain beginning.

Why is it that feelings of regret can only be expressed with the words ‘I’m sorry’?

While blaming the poverty of her own vocabulary, Tilia uttered the next clichéd line.

“I… was thoughtless.”

But that was all she could say. She couldn’t find any other way to express her feelings.

She had indeed been thoughtless. Each day had been a struggle just to survive, and she hadn’t even considered looking around her. To be more honest, she had thought it was acceptable for her to behave that way.

Because unlike the others at the academy, she bore the weight of a harsh environment.

Because unlike those who only needed to study, she was fighting for survival every single day.

Every day had been a desperate battle to stay alive.

But in the end, that was just an excuse. It didn’t justify ignoring those who had been kind to her.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Only after leaving for Ontaroa and becoming a true outsider, belonging nowhere, did she realize.

She hadn’t been alone after all. She had thought she had survived purely on her own strength, that she owed her survival to no one but herself.

It was arrogance. It was only after witnessing people sneering and turning away at her bare circumstances that she finally understood.

She realized how precious the ones who had embraced her without expecting anything had been. How invaluable were those who, on days when she was too exhausted to desire anything, had taken her hand and led her out into the sun.

It was arrogance. It was only after witnessing people sneering and turning away at her bare circumstances that she finally understood.

She realized how precious the ones who had embraced her without expecting anything had been. How invaluable were those who, on days when she was too exhausted to desire anything, had taken her hand and led her out into the sun.