A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 39

I should have refused.

With his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together, Ilex muttered those words for what felt like the hundredth time.

The interior of Ilex’s personal carriage, designed to his specifications, was spacious and comfortable. Even though he was tall, there was ample room for him to stretch his legs. Yet, despite the vast space, Ilex sat curled up, repeatedly mumbling the same words.

He should have refused, somehow. He should have just told her to go.

Ilex kept forcing his gaze downward with an almost violent determination.

He knew. He knew he should never have shared the carriage with Tilia, not after inhaling that disgusting smoke.

Even after consuming antidote after antidote, his increasingly clouded rationality should have kept him away from being in a confined space with Tilia.

But even if he could go back to that moment, he was sure he would have ended up climbing into this carriage with her as if he were under a spell.

He lacked the strength to refuse her. He lacked the will to trample on his own desires.

The burning heat inside him was eating away at his reason, leaving him incapable of considering the future.

Just once, just this once.

No matter how hard he tried to suppress it, his gaze kept drifting toward Tilia.

‘You’re insane. Get a grip.’

Finally managing to lower his gaze, Ilex clenched his hands so tightly that his fingers cracked. He shouldn’t look at her. Desire was like seawater—the more you drank, the thirstier you became.

Ilex gritted his teeth, desperately trying to divert his thoughts elsewhere.

‘It must have been potent.’

Thinking of Gregory Myers, Ilex’s eyes turned cold.

If the substance could affect him like this, someone with a similar physical constitution to a holy knight, then it must have left a serious impact on Tilia.

‘He wasn’t just trying to cause a reaction—he intended to kill her.’

As his thoughts reached Gregory’s intent, Ilex clenched his teeth again.

He should have made him suffer more. No matter how he thought about it, Gregory had died too peacefully. His end had been far too easy.

Of course, even that had seemed to traumatize Tilia.

“……”

Remembering Tilia’s terrified expression, Ilex’s gaze darkened once more. But the instincts driven by the holy water blocked any deep thought.

His mind quickly replayed the scene of Tilia opening the door for him despite her fear.

Her green eyes, filled with concern as she looked at him. Her hesitant demeanor, her white hands fidgeting with an innocent handkerchief…

Ilex once again clenched his hands so tightly that they cracked as he closed his eyes.

Who in the world made this stuff?

What kind of wretched priest created holy water that aroused such crude and desperate desires?

The devilish instinct, like a horned demon, circled his mind, whispering seductive thoughts.

‘Don’t you want to grab Tilia’s hair and kiss her right now? Don’t you want to take her small, soft tongue and suck on it fiercely?’

Ilex clenched his jaw so hard it felt like his teeth would shatter.

No.

‘Stop pretending. You want to rip off her dress, tear open those neat buttons, and shove your hand beneath her long skirt, don’t you?!’

The devil laughed wickedly, digging into his mind.

‘You know how heavenly it feels! How hot and soft it is inside!’

In his mind, past experiences replayed vividly.

He wished he’d never experienced it at all.

Because he knew, Ilex couldn’t stop his instincts from devouring his reason.

Yes.

Gazing hopelessly at the ceiling, Ilex muttered.

I want to be in there again.

Into that mysteriously soft, hot place. The place that was so intense he feared he might hurt her…

“…Ilex?”

It was Tilia’s voice that pulled his sinking mind back.

“Are you… okay?”

His half-loosened grip tightened unconsciously. Ilex forcibly expelled the devil that had invaded his depths, steadying his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“…You don’t look fine.”

“I can manage.”

But the dark instinct clung to him like a leech, no matter how hard he tried to shake it off.

Ilex stubbornly kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his throat tightening in resistance.

His eyes caught sight of Tilia’s small shoes. In that instant, his rationality blurred again.

Would she be upset if he took off those shoes?

With reddened eyes, Ilex imagined the small feet inside those shoes.

If he pulled out those white feet and put them in his mouth, biting down gently…

“Ilex.”

Lost in his sordid imagination, Ilex looked up unconsciously. As their eyes met, Tilia flinched and pulled away slightly.

It was the first time since getting into the carriage that she’d faced him, her voice tinged with confusion.

“Are you really okay?”

“……”

Ironically, Tilia’s wary reaction revived the reason he thought was lost forever.

…Right. Of course, she’d be disgusted. Even he found himself revolting for feeling lust all the way down to his feet.

Gathering the shreds of his crumbling patience, Ilex quietly issued a warning. “If I’m not okay, what are you going to do, sleep with me?”

He had to make her hate him even more. Strategy or whatever else—tonight, he needed to make her utterly repulsed by him.

“You can’t do it.”

His lips moved automatically, choosing the words she would hate the most. He didn’t even need to lie. All he had to do was state the truth.

His hazy eyes overlapped Tilia’s past self with her present one.

“You couldn’t handle me even when I wasn’t under the influence. How could you manage now?”

Tilia’s eyes widened briefly, then narrowed.

She was clearly recalling that day. A day he would carry to his grave, but for her, it was likely remembered as her worst experience.

That’s enough.

Lowering his gaze from Tilia, whose sympathy must have evaporated, Ilex let out a small sigh.

His gaze now fixed on the corner of the carriage. Where he couldn’t see Tilia’s shoes or the feet inside them—just an empty corner.

“……”

Yet, even after a long while, there was no word that they had arrived.

When on earth are we going to arrive?

The passage of time felt agonizingly slow, as if the carriage had stopped, or perhaps his perception of time had warped. Each second felt like a vast canyon stretched between them.

And with every passing moment, Ilex felt his senses sharpening further. It felt as if antennae were growing all over his body, all of them directed solely at Tilia.

Even without looking, he could sense her gaze.

He could feel her green eyes scanning his face, then drifting down to his shoulders and clasped hands. Her gaze paused around his waist before hesitantly moving lower.

Flinching, Tilia’s gaze shifted away after noticing the state of his lower body. She drew her feet back, as if wanting to distance herself, her small shoes pressing against each other as her hands clenched tightly.

Foolishly unaware that he had already noticed everything.

Just her realizing his state had shattered the last of his fragile rationality. His heightened senses ran wild, tracing every movement of Tilia’s body.

She crossed her legs uncomfortably. Moved awkwardly. Touched her neck, as if feeling hot, before quickly lowering her hand, seemingly conscious of him.

In the corner of the carriage, Ilex’s eyes twitched, a blood vessel bursting. To suppress the urge to reach out, Ilex bit the inside of his mouth until his gums felt shredded.

Even if his tongue ended up split in half, he had to endure. He had already messed up the first time. He couldn’t let it happen again.

This girl, sensitive and fearful like a wild rabbit, required patience. He needed to earn her trust.

‘So I can’t, I can’t let myself be intoxicated by this damn holy water…’

“Ilex.”

But just as he was desperately trying to rein in the beast within, clinging to the last vestiges of control…

“I…”

She, who had been fidgeting continuously, spoke in a trembling voice, “I think… I might have inhaled some of that smoke too.”

And with that, he heard the sound of his reason snapping.

His head jerked up. Tilia flinched as their eyes met, trembling slightly.

Ironically, at that moment, the first thought that crossed Ilex’s mind was about Gregory Myers.

That bastard. Did he die?

No one to shield him from the smoke, so he’s likely long dead by now?

…Could I revive him, just to kill him again?

Like a rabbit caught by a hunter’s trap, trembling, Tilia’s eyes locked with his as he reached out with his long arm.

Thud. The wall of the carriage shook, and a low voice slipped out.

“Not the Ambrose estate. Go to the annex.”