A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 139

“I was so curious. How much I longed to see you!”

Tilia’s expression stiffened, but this time it was for a different reason. The woman’s overly familiar attitude made it hard to read her intentions, and Tilia felt on edge.

Tilia stared sharply at Seraphine for a brief moment, then belatedly realized her own rudeness and gave a slight curtsy.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Davenport. I’m Tilia Ambrose—”

“Mm. No need for such formal greetings, not between us.”

Seraphine’s overly familiar behavior came crashing down on Tilia again. She flinched away from Seraphine’s outstretched arms but, confirming that the woman held nothing, quietly allowed the embrace.

It was an uncomfortable touch. As the thick scent of lilies clung to Seraphine, Tilia involuntarily furrowed her brows ever so slightly.

Then she noticed it—a slightly ajar door caught her lowered gaze.

Only then did Tilia realize that someone was standing outside, listening in on their conversation.

Likely a butler. Since Seraphine Davenport had barged into the drawing room uninvited, Ilex’s instructions to keep her and Tilia apart had been ignored. The butler was probably trying to catch whatever conversation he could to report back.

With that realization, Tilia finally understood why the woman was acting so affectionate.

She’s aware of the surveillance outside. That’s why she’s using a sweet tone and affectionate gestures.

What kind of relationship do Ilex and his mother have? The curiosity she’d felt a moment ago, like she was peering through mist, now gave way to a vague sense of fatigue. A hunch passed through her that discovering the truth between them would require enduring no small amount of tension.

As Tilia stood still, lost in complicated thoughts, Lady Davenport pulled away from their brief embrace and met her eyes.

“Ah, so this is what you look like…”

Those bluish-gray eyes—so like Ilex’s—swept over Tilia’s features: her eyes, nose, lips, and figure.

Same hue, same tone, yet they felt so different. Tilia forced herself to meet her gaze, suppressing the unpleasant feeling of being evaluated.

“Truly, I was so very curious about you, Miss Tilia.”

As if that brief eye contact proved mutual fondness, Seraphine chattered on cheerfully.

“I couldn’t sleep at night, wondering what kind of woman had so thoroughly enchanted my son, turned his head so completely!”

“…Did Ilex ever mention me to you?”

“No, he never says a word about things like that. He’s quite shy, you see.”

Then how… The question was on Tilia’s tongue, but the woman—who looked far too young to have an adult son—just smiled knowingly.

“I heard the rumors. You two had quite the reputation, even back in your academy days, didn’t you?”

Just a moment ago she called him ‘my son,’ and now she refers to him like a stranger. Tilia found herself paying attention to that subtle but unmistakable shift in tone.

Just what is she? Could she really be the unworthy family member Ilex described? If not…

“But.”

Seraphine cut off Tilia’s deepening thoughts in a voice so quiet it couldn’t be heard beyond the room. Her bluish-gray eyes, which had stared at Tilia like she was some strange foreign creature, suddenly glinted with something unplaceable.

“Do you really still believe you got that foreign consulate job on your own merits?”

The whispered question shattered the polite mask Tilia had been wearing.

“What did you just—”

“Oh my, look at the time.”

Tilia was about to demand an explanation, her anger boiling over, but Seraphine stretched and yawned as if nothing had happened, then feigned surprise after checking the time.

“Sorry, I’d love to chat more, but I absolutely have to sleep at this hour for my skincare routine.”

She made it sound like she truly regretted leaving, then moved to embrace Tilia again. Tilia instinctively flinched away, but froze at the shape of Seraphine’s mouth.

“Let’s meet again soon.”

As if to melt the stiffened Tilia, Seraphine hugged her tightly.

The strength behind that slight frame was astonishing. It pressed into her back with surprising force.

Still doubting what she’d just seen on the woman’s lips, Tilia stiffened again at the cold metal slipping into her waistband.

“It’s okay if you go to bed a little late, Miss Tilia. You’re still young.”

As soon as Tilia grasped the object slipped into her waist, Seraphine pulled back and added nonchalantly, “Do a bit of work, take a look around. Then sleep. It won’t be too late.”

She yawned again, this time languidly, and gave a flippant little wave as she turned away.

“Well then, goodbye.”

***

Even after Seraphine skipped out of the drawing room with light steps, Tilia stood frozen, unable to move.

Did I really read her lips correctly just now? Did she truly say that to me before she left?

Tilia remained still, like a statue, caught in her disbelief. Then she realized—too late—that the butler was still behind the door. She hurriedly hid the key Seraphine had slipped her under her petticoat.

The chill of the metal at her lower back seemed to seep straight into her mind. Forcing herself to ignore him, Tilia walked out of the drawing room with deliberately casual steps.

She wasn’t sure how she made it through the corridor or down the stairs. By the time she came to her senses, she was already in the lobby.

But it wasn’t the fact that she had reached the mansion’s exit that made her body suddenly tense.

The moment she saw the man staring at her from across the luxurious lobby, her jaw clenched, and her lips bit down hard of their own accord.

Ilex stood there like the most splendid ornament in a mansion so grand it could crush you.

He looked so perfectly natural in that space that, for a split second, Tilia thought he might’ve been part of the structure itself—like he’d been built into the framework when the mansion was first constructed.

No wonder she hadn’t sensed anything out of place. He belonged there. He stood like someone who should be there.

“Tilia.”

Even her rational mind agreed—it made sense. This was his home. Of course Ilex would be in the Davenport mansion.

Even her plan assumed as much. She’d come here expecting one of Ilex’s people. She needed someone to help her if something happened—and she knew he would protect her, no matter what.

Whoever he’d stationed here, they’d act for her unconditionally. He would do anything, use any means, to keep her safe.

“I came to get you.”

And yet, why did his voice feel unfamiliar as it reached her ears? Why did his unwavering love feel almost frightening?

“Let’s go home together.”

Save me.

That refined, elegant woman—was it because of the shape her lips formed when she pushed that key into Tilia’s waistband?

Save me, Tilia.

Tilia hadn’t even heard it, yet those words seemed to echo in her ears.

Like someone desperate to escape from the echo, she squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again—then looked at the man standing just a few steps away.

Ilex’s eyes were a beautiful bluish-gray. The same hue and tone as the woman she’d just left. Staring into them felt like she might be able to read every secret hidden inside.

After a long moment of hesitation, Tilia finally opened her mouth.

“…Okay.”

As soon as she spoke, his hand reached out, as if it had been waiting. His large fingers wove tightly between hers, holding them in an unyielding grip.

Led by the heat of his hand—as if it had just been pulled from a flame—Tilia stepped out of the dazzling mansion, acutely aware of the unfamiliar weight at her waist.

The key Seraphine had given her wasn’t big. Enough time had passed for her body heat to take the chill off its small metal surface.

And yet, as she still felt that lingering cold, Tilia recalled Seraphine’s parting words:

“Do a bit of work, take a look around. Then sleep. It won’t be too late.”

Work, meaning Ilex’s office. Look around, probably the hidden documents.

Muttering those clues to herself—those generous hints left behind—Tilia bit her lip sharply once more.