A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 26

On the topmost floor of the mansion, lying in her bed, Tilia sighed softly as she looked at the ceiling.

The old wallpaper was worn, bearing witness to the years it had endured. In the corners, hastily cleaned, there were traces of cobwebs that hadn’t been fully removed.

‘Ugh, my head hurts.’

Tilia slowly turned onto her side, feeling the ache in the spot her father had struck earlier.

The narrow, old bed creaked under her, making a noise as if it were protesting in pain more than she was.

And with that rusty sound, her mother’s voice echoed like a ghost.

“Tilia, being smart is not a sin. Show them how much of a blessing it can be.”

“No, no! Forget it all! Drop everything and just go look in the mirror! There’s nothing you can choose for yourself anyway!”

A cry that was neither laughter nor tears echoed deafeningly in her ears.

With her eyes tightly shut, Tilia thought of her mother, who must be wandering the mansion like a ghost.

Evelyn Palmer.

Her mother’s maiden name was Evelyn Palmer.

She was the third daughter of the wealthy Palmer Count family and was said to be beautiful enough to make anyone turn their head at least once.

But that wasn’t all. Despite the societal views, which were even more conservative than today, she had graduated from the Royal Academy of Arkansis as a brilliant student.

There was only one future Evelyn Palmer wanted, one that shone so brightly.

To live as herself, as “Evelyn,” proving her worth, rather than just being someone’s wife like other women.

It was during a time when Arkansis, for the first time, had a queen instead of a king, and many reforms were taking place.

Queen Fidelia wanted women to be employed not only in the palace but also in the administration, and she actually pushed that administrative bill through.

Evelyn believed it was an opportunity made for her, a path that God had opened for her talents.

But on the day she told her family that she intended to apply for a position in the central government, Evelyn learned the truth.

Her father, who had been prouder than anyone of her academy graduation, had only educated her to sell her off under better terms.

When she learned that she was to marry a marquis from the frontier, Evelyn Palmer came up with a plan.

She decided to marry the man who had persistently courted her, the one who had most passionately confessed his love.

Naively, Evelyn believed that although he was poor, she could live a life of respect if she married a man who loved her. She believed she could live a happy life as Evelyn, not the stifling life of a marquis’ wife.

But as everyone knows, that was a delusion.

The day after she secretly fled to the temple to marry, Evelyn realized.

Baron Bradley Ambrose had no intention of respecting her, nor did he ever love her.

When Bradley revealed his true nature, he trampled on Evelyn mercilessly.

He only wanted Evelyn to live as Baroness Ambrose, only to exist as his possession, to live as the trophy he had claimed.

A job in the royal city was out of the question.

Not long after, Evelyn’s family, worn out from their daughter’s reckless marriage and her husband’s constant demands for money, severed ties completely.

When the count’s family stopped providing money, Bradley’s disdain grew even more blatant.

And while she bore him a son and then a daughter, Evelyn slowly lost her sanity.

The reason Tilia knew her mother’s story so well was that her mother had had a significant impact on her during her childhood.

From the age of seven to ten, Tilia had practically lived in her mother’s study, learning about the world through Evelyn.

From learning to read letters to interpreting texts, from developing a clear perspective to expressing it.

And eventually, she learned how all those carefully built aspects of oneself could shatter.

Murmuring her mother’s name, Tilia unconsciously recalled her mother’s last moments.

The vivid image of her bloodied body, as if it were lying discarded at the bottom of the stairs, filled her mind.

Ugh.

Tilia felt a sharp sensation as if something were rising in her throat.

She got up, covering her mouth, and quickly rushed to the bathroom.

Though she hadn’t eaten anything, only bitter liquid came up from her mouth.

As she retched that murky fluid until her stomach was empty, Tilia silently prayed in her heart.

That there was no such thing as a soul.

And that her mother, hopefully, wasn’t still bound to this place even after death.

It took a while for the nausea to subside.

Tilia staggered and barely managed to sit on a chair with a dazed expression.

Was it because she had remembered her mother’s corpse so vividly? Or was it because she had been hit so hard in the head earlier? The throbbing in her temple was unbearable.

‘…It’s okay.’

Tilia sat with her feet pulled up on the hard chair, wrapping her arms around her knees as if to comfort herself. She murmured out of habit.

This isn’t the real life. My real life hasn’t started yet.

Her grip on her knees tightened.

With her eyes tightly shut, Tilia imagined herself in Ontaroa.

As she pictured herself living in a place where no one knew her, where no one knew her past, she felt her queasy stomach gradually settle.

Slowly exhaling, Tilia lifted her head.

In her tired eyes, she noticed something she hadn’t put there.

‘Again.’

It seemed the inattentive maid had once again entered without permission and left a letter for her.

Tilia sighed and reached for the letter.

On the red sealing was the Wells family crest.

***

“Tilia, thank you for coming!”

Judy, wearing a bright dress instead of the dull school uniform, greeted her friend warmly with her arms spread wide. Then, in the next moment, she furrowed her brows in apology.

“Sorry. I invited you too hastily, didn’t I? I originally wanted to meet next week, but Mom insisted on seeing you as soon as possible.”

Judy hugged her friend’s thin body tightly, grateful that she had come despite the sudden invitation.

“No, I didn’t have anything to do anyway.”

Releasing her friend, Judy cautiously studied Tilia’s face as she responded calmly.

Was it just her imagination? Or had something really happened? Her complexion seemed paler than before.

In fact, Judy had noticed.

That her friend wasn’t treated so well by her family.

Even as clueless as she was, Judy had lived in the same room as Tilia for four years.

Tilia, who was indifferent to everything, had never shown it, but Judy could tell from her extreme reluctance to talk about her family, and from the bruises that appeared only at the beginning of each term, as if she had been hit by someone.

But Judy couldn’t bring up what Tilia had chosen not to share. All she could do was invite her friend to her house as often as possible to spend more time together.

“Hearing you were coming after such a long time, the chef got all excited. He’s been so busy since dawn! You might want to be prepared to roll back home today.”

Hearing that, Tilia smiled as if exasperated.

Judy was so pleased to see that smile that she acted more playful than usual as they walked together down the hallway to the drawing room.

“Welcome, Tilia.”

When the door to the drawing room opened, a lady who matched the elegant decor greeted Tilia with a smile.

Tilia gave a slight bow, bending her knees.

“It’s been a while, Countess Wells.”

“Oh, don’t be so formal.”

Grace Wells, Judy’s mother, rose gracefully from her seat and approached Tilia.

“My, Tilia seems to grow more graceful each time I see her. I wish Judy would be a bit more like you. I don’t know what to do with such a tomboy.”

“What did I do! What did I do!”

Grace ignored her daughter, who puffed her cheeks playfully, and held Tilia’s hands, studying her face with concern.

“Why are your hands so cold? Are you feeling unwell?”

“They’re always a bit cold.”

“Come, have some warm tea. Are you sure you’re not feeling ill?”

Grace kept rubbing Tilia’s cold hands, then had her sit beside her.

“It’s a pity, but it seems it’ll just be the four of us having dinner today. I received word that due to knights’ duties running late, the other family members won’t be able to join us.”

“Four is just fine.”

Grace looked warmly at Tilia, who sat there with a slightly awkward expression.

The countess’s eyes were sincere. She genuinely felt grateful to her daughter’s only friend.

Was it because she had pampered her youngest daughter, born after three sons, too much?

Judy had become excessively timid and shy. She was so reserved that she barely had any friends, and her frail health often caused her to experience sleep paralysis at night.

The first day Judy insisted on leaving for the academy, Grace had been so worried she had shed tears.

It was Tilia who had comforted her, who had become Judy’s friend. Since Tilia had become her friend, Grace had been able to sleep soundly even on the last night of breaks.

Judy had become so cheerful and lively after befriending this girl.

When she thought of that, Grace wanted to shower her daughter’s precious friend with dresses and jewels.

But she knew that Tilia, who easily felt burdened, wouldn’t accept such gifts.

So, all Grace could do was give her small gestures of help, and she spoke again, her voice full of concern.

“You seem to have lost a bit of weight. Are you eating properly?”

“Yes. I had a hearty breakfast.”

“Oh dear. You’ll still need to eat a lot later. The chef heard you were coming and prepared to fill the table. It’s best to give up any hope of walking back today.”

Hearing Grace say the same thing as her daughter, Tilia couldn’t help but forget her awkwardness and laugh.