A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 128

Of course, a life without her father and brother was comfortable. A life where she didn’t have to endure beatings for no reason was pleasant.

However, in the true life she had longed for and dreamed of, Tilia couldn’t help but look back on the past she had lived by carelessly dismissing as fake.

There, hidden away, were the forces that had allowed her to endure hell. There were the hands that had brushed away her despair so she could dream of a future.

“…I’m sorry, Judy. I should have told you earlier.”

Realizing that there was no paradise to be found in the place she fled to, realizing that the place she had turned her back on and run from was, in fact, a hidden paradise, realizing that while she had spoken lies, there had never been anything fake about her life—Tilia did not want to repeat the same mistakes.

“I think I was just… too scared.”

Be brave, Tilia. Steeling herself, she began an apology that felt as though she were doing it for the first time in her life.

“To be honest, I was just too ashamed. To talk about my family. You know, my family… it was really a mess.”

It’s always hard to bare your true feelings. Even more so when it’s something you’ve ignored and avoided facing.

But Tilia pressed down on her trembling toes that desperately wanted to run away and steadied her shaking voice.

“No money, a father and brother desperate to sell me off. It hurt my pride too much to admit that my life was such that it was lucky if I wasn’t beaten instead of protected. Even though I knew you probably had an idea about it.”

Judy said nothing. She showed no expression either.

Just as Judy had only stared at the corner of the table the previous evening, Tilia now fixed her gaze on the edge of the table as she spoke.

“And about the matter with Ilex… I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but honestly, I wasn’t thinking at all back then. No, to be more accurate, I didn’t even understand my own feelings. Back then, all I wanted was to get away from the Ambrose family as soon as possible.”

“……”

“So when I ended up sleeping with Ilex after drinking holy water, I couldn’t tell you…”

“What?!”

It was then that a shrill scream rang out. Startled, Tilia raised her head and saw Judy’s face flushed bright red.

“What, what did you say? You drank something with Ilex Davenport and then what?!”

Maybe she had been too honest. Noticing the tears welling in Judy’s eyes, Tilia stammered for a moment, then spoke again in a much smaller voice.

“After Gregory Myers spiked my water bottle with holy water… I ended up sleeping with Ilex Davenport.”

“W-when. While we were at the academy? During the semester?”

“…Yeah. Right before the first graduation exam.”

At that, Judy looked like she might faint. Stomping down hard on the book she had dropped without noticing, she almost shouted.

“Why, why didn’t you tell me about something so serious! If you were the victim of a crime, you should have told me! We should have reported it together!”

“…I didn’t tell you because I knew you would react like this.”

Facing the agitated Judy, Tilia’s face was strangely calm.

“Back then, I had only two options. Either report it and miss the exam, or sleep with whoever and still take the exam.”

“……”

“My life was riding on that graduation exam, so I had no choice but to choose the latter.”

“…Even so, you could have told me afterward. You could have.”

“If I had, you would have gotten angry like you are now. You would have grabbed my hand and cried, unable to bear it, and if you had done that, I wouldn’t have been able to pretend it didn’t happen. I would have had to objectively face what had been done to me.”

After briefly meeting Judy’s eyes, Tilia’s gaze once again fell to the corner of the table.

“At that time, I was desperate. I couldn’t afford to fall apart.”

“……”

“That’s why I couldn’t tell you. And once I started hiding it, it just became harder and harder to be honest.”

I’m sorry.

With Tilia’s small whisper, silence fell again.

“…Are you okay now?”

But this time, the silence didn’t last long.

“Are you really okay now, Tilia… You’re living in the Davenport estate, right? I heard rumors, bits and pieces. I saw the carriage you ride in, too—it has the Davenport crest on it.”

Judy, studying Tilia’s complexion for a moment, cautiously continued, “Is the Duke of Davenport… treating you well?”

At the concern, so carefully wrapped in roundabout phrasing, Tilia smiled for the first time.

Judy was worrying about her relationship with Ilex, which had started in such an unusual way. Worrying whether Ilex Davenport was treating her poorly.

“Yeah. Quite well.”

At Tilia’s calm answer, Judy studied her for a moment, then finally let out a sigh of relief.

As she murmured softly, barely audible, “Thank goodness,” she seemed to realize belatedly how rude she had been, hastily pulling her body back from where she had leaned forward.

However, the mood between them had already eased. Both Judy and Tilia, in the slightly less awkward silence than before, shyly kept glancing at each other.

“…Here.”

It was Tilia who broke this round of silence.

Setting the bouquet and the ribbon-tied box down at the edge of the table, she pulled out a thick bundle of letters from her bag.

“I didn’t not write. I wrote them, but something happened and they didn’t get sent. They ended up coming back to me later.”

Tilia, pushing the letters toward her with a slightly trembling hand, sneaked a glance at Judy’s face.

Judy, with a dazed expression, reached out toward the pile of papers Tilia had placed down as if drawn by some invisible force.

Even before Tilia could say “look at them after I leave,” the white hand seized a letter envelope and tore it open.

It didn’t take Judy long to read through the randomly chosen letters.

“Ah, uh…”

In contrast, it took Tilia quite a while to hurriedly pull out a handkerchief when she saw Judy’s face, thick tears streaming down.

Though she could have just used her own handkerchief nearby, Judy stubbornly waited for Tilia to hand hers over, then quickly grabbed it and vigorously wiped her face.

Even after wiping her face up to under her nose, the tears began to well up again as she looked at Tilia.

“Why are you giving these now?”

“Huh?”

“You should’ve given them yesterday…”

After getting mad at you, I was so upset too.

At Judy’s grumbling, cheeks glistening with tears, Tilia couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

Watching her friend pout her lips, Judy then shifted slightly to the side, inviting her to sit next to her.

As soon as Tilia hesitated and sat down, Judy immediately threw herself into her arms.

From the friend she was hugging after so long came a familiar scent.

A sweet smell, like oranges soaked in sugar.

The nostalgic scent that used to fill their shared room.

Thinking back, they had laughed a lot while inhaling that scent.

So why had she always thought of that place only as hell, only as fake?

While Tilia hesitated, overwhelmed by sudden regret, Judy’s damp voice brushed her ear.

“I missed you, Tilia.”

At the whimpering mixed into the spoiled tone, Tilia made an expression that was neither laughing nor crying.

“…Me too. Judy.”

I really missed you so much too.

In the end, the tears became contagious.

The sounds of sniffles echoed like ripples in the twilight drawing room. The yellow freesia flowers Tilia had carefully chosen, and the box adorned with a satin ribbon, shimmered under the sunset.

And the letters that had finally found their rightful owner waited quietly beside the tokens of friendship, listening intently to the two friends’ shared weeping.

***

Inside the Duke of Davenport’s office, bathed in the same sunset hue as the drawing room overflowing with flowers, jewelry, and letters.

Though the density of the sunlight pouring into both spaces might have been the same, the atmosphere of the interiors where it settled was markedly different.

Whether light, which should fall equally, was influenced by space too—the sunset felt unnaturally red as it illuminated the Duke’s cold face.

“…You’re saying there’s no proper evidence.”

The pale blue-gray eyes looking at the aide, bowing his head in apology, were chilling.

Ilex tapped the desk with long fingers, then slowly reached out and lit a cigar. The strong smoke swirled through the air from the brown stick clamped between his red lips.

Last night, Tilia had trailed off while mentioning the letters she had supposedly written to Judy Bartlett.

“I did write them… but somehow they didn’t get sent.”

Tilia had definitely said so. That she hadn’t sent them—not that she didn’t write them. Pretending to nod as if he believed it, his mind had already been retracing old memories since then.

“But it wasn’t on purpose—!”

Even on the day they had run into Judy Bartlett after work, Tilia had shown a strange reaction when it came to the letters.

If suspicious behavior happened once, it could just be doubt—but twice became evidence.

Failing to catch such a clear circumstantial clue would be negligence. Convinced that Tilia was hiding something from him regarding the letters, Ilex immediately began an investigation.

“Strange.”

However, no evidence related to it could be found in the deceased royal spy’s room and office, nor at the foreign consulate where Norbert Karel had worked.

“There’s no way there’s nothing.”