A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 45

Tsk. Tilia came back to her senses as the clicking of someone’s tongue grew louder.

When she forced her heavy eyelids open, she saw a beautifully carved ceiling.

“Tsk, tsk, young people these days…”

She turned her head towards the unfamiliar scolding voice, and there she saw the deeply furrowed face of a woman. The face belonged to an elderly priest, her hair streaked with gray, who might normally have a gentle expression.

The woman looked at Tilia disapprovingly, but when their eyes met, she quickly changed her expression, as if she had never been scolding her.

“The treatment is complete. No bones are broken, and no muscles are stretched, so you should recover your strength quickly. Then, I shall take my leave.”

The priest’s hurried manner of packing up and leaving, as if she didn’t want to get involved, proved that the disdainful tone Tilia heard wasn’t an illusion.

A priest. The sound of clicking tongues. Recovery…

As Tilia, her head still foggy, tried to make sense of the situation, she heard another woman’s voice—this one higher in pitch.

“The bathwater is ready. Shall I assist you now?”

She turned her eyes to the soft voice and saw a maid dressed in spotless attire. When their eyes met, the maid smiled gently and spoke in a sweet voice.

“Young Master Ilex has instructed me to escort you to the dining table once you’re ready. Are you still feeling unwell?”

Ilex. Hearing that hint, Tilia finally let out a groan and covered her eyes with both hands.

She remembered now—what happened last night.

Damn holy water. Damn Ilex Davenport. And… damn myself for the choices I made.

While Tilia cursed everything in the world, the maid waited patiently, ready to assist her whenever she was commanded.

“No need for a bath. I’ll just take a quick shower. I don’t need any assistance.”

Realizing the maid’s presence again belatedly, Tilia sighed and rose from the bed. The middle-aged maid with brown hair bowed her head in acknowledgment and quietly withdrew.

But something felt wrong with her body.

She had expected her joints to ache all over. She had expected her whole body to be covered in bruises far worse than before.

Yet her body, even dressed in pajamas, felt surprisingly light. Even below—where she expected to find at least some trace—was clean.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Tilia narrowed her eyes slightly at the priest standing respectfully beside the bed. Treatment.

Her narrowed gaze then shifted to the maid standing beside the priest. And cleaning.

Ha. Tilia stood up with a wry smile, easily guessing why her body felt so “normal.”

The priest must have treated her broken body, and the maid must have cleaned her sullied one.

Her body was now spotless, without a scratch, but inside, she felt filthy, as if she had been doused in sewage.

It was always like this after receiving a priest’s healing. Her body, forcefully erased of its past, always made her feel this way.

With an expressionless face, she crossed the spacious room and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

The bathroom, where she and Ilex had intertwined their bodies in passion the previous night, was also spotless.

‘Money really does work wonders,’ Tilia thought as she opened the valve and let the lukewarm water wash over her, closing her eyes.

The elderly priest, clearly a high-ranking one, had been exceedingly polite—quite different from the junior priests who visited her home. Though it was clear she looked down on Tilia, the fear of causing trouble made her act meekly.

The maid was the same. Dressed in stiff, spotless attire, the middle-aged woman obeyed Tilia with a gentle demeanor—different from the arrogant servants in the Ambrose household.

‘With just a gesture, they all bend over backward. No need for useless concerns.’

Seeing her body as if nothing had happened, Tilia lifted one corner of her mouth.

‘And any trace, no matter what it is, can be wiped away completely.’

***

“Shall I brush your hair…”

“No. Where are my clothes?”

“They’re right here.”

“I don’t need assistance… Never mind, just do it.”

Tilia, initially intending to reject those who approached her, let out a small sigh and extended her arm when she saw the maids looking troubled after her repeated refusals.

Accustomed to dressing herself, she found their help uncomfortable but didn’t show it. They were merely doing their jobs, after all.

While waiting for the dress laces to be fastened, hoping they would finish quickly, she heard giggling from below.

Lowering her head, she saw a young maid, her face particularly youthful, trying to stifle her laughter as she exchanged glances with a colleague.

“Tina.”

The middle-aged woman beside Tilia called out the young maid’s name, as if scolding her.

But her tone wasn’t harsh, almost as if she understood the maid’s rudeness was inevitable.

At this, Tilia turned her quiet gaze toward the brown-haired maid who had spoken to her first when she awoke.

She too wore a gentle smile—a smile with an odd meaning, unlike a typical, polite smile.

Tilia, who had been watching her silently, let out a sneer.

That’s right—loyalty is reserved for those in power, not for a woman wearing a worn-out dress like me.

Despite mocking them inwardly, Tilia spoke softly, displaying the same polite smile the maid had shown her moments earlier.

“My name is Tilia Ambrose.”

The maids looked up, startled by her sudden introduction.

“I’m attending the same academy as Ilex. We’re in the same graduating class.”

“Oh, I see. You do carry yourself like a student of the Royal Academy…”

“Yes, I’m a fellow academy student.”

Tilia added gently toward the maid, who had quickly offered a seemingly prepared compliment.

“I’m not a mistress or a prostitute as you may think.”

Tilia smiled brightly and took the lace from the young maid, tying it more skillfully than her.

“I think I’m ready now. Excuse me.”

“Miss, it’s not like that…!”

Hearing the maid’s flustered voice behind her, Tilia didn’t look back. She forcefully opened the door with an impatient hand.

There, leaning against the doorframe, was a man.

She didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, but his blue-gray eyes, devoid of emotion, met hers. His plain features looked icy, almost cold enough to seem like carved ice.

As if her memory of him losing all reason and lunging at her the previous night was a lie.

“Have breakfast.”

The moment their eyes met, Ilex Davenport’s words were absurd beyond belief.

“It’s set in the dining room. Come with me.”

Tilia looked at him quietly for a moment before speaking, “Is this part of the routine?”

“What?”

“Is serving breakfast after a night together part of the routine for the women you bring to this annex?”

Ilex seemed not to understand her words, remaining silent for a while.

Only when Tilia decided to push him away and leave did he let out a sly smile.

“Yeah, it’s part of the routine.”

Ilex replied in a rough voice, almost spitting out the words.

“So eat. Come with me.”

“No, thanks.”

But Tilia had no intention of responding to his demands outside the bedroom. She had fulfilled her obligation to the one who saved her last night.

“I’ll pass. I’m not so foolish that I can’t feed myself.”

With that, Tilia tried to walk past him.

But Ilex Davenport moved first. Straightening from his leaning position, he easily blocked her path, giving her an intimidating stare.

“Eat.”

“Don’t annoy me.”

“You need to take a contraceptive. Eat first.”

Just as Tilia was about to lose her temper, she froze, looking up at him at the unexpected word.

“…Give it to me.”

After a brief hesitation, she extended her hand.

“I’ll take it now, so just hand it over.”

“Eat first, then take it. It’ll mess up your stomach.”

“Last time, I took it without eating. What’s the difference now?”

“It’s different. Do you think this one is the same as that one?”

At her words, Ilex laughed cynically, as if looking at a naive child.

“Think about it, Tilia.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear.

“Did it seem like the amount I came inside you last night was normal? Hm?”

“……”

“It was enough to get you pregnant, even now. I ordered the strongest dose available to erase that possibility. If you take it on an empty stomach, skipping dinner and breakfast, what do you think will happen?”

His cold blue-gray eyes swept over her face, checking her reaction.

“It won’t just ruin your stomach—it might even ruin that precious brain of yours.”

Seeing her bite her lip, Ilex straightened up and gestured toward the stairs.

“Come down. Unless you want to end up a complete idiot.”

Leaving those words, he turned his back, knowing she had no choice but to follow.

Watching his broad back retreat without a backward glance, Tilia finally sighed in frustration.

Before long, the sound of her heavy steps followed his, echoing like a muttered complaint.