A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 46

Tilia looked at the dishes filling the large dining table with an indifferent expression.

“Is this a banquet or something?”

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a guest, so the chef went overboard. Just pick and eat whatever you like.”

At that absurd statement, Tilia gave a small smile and picked up her cutlery. The luxurious silverware gleamed as if it were brand new, incomparable to the ones in the Ambrose household, only brought out on the rarest of important occasions.

She could understand why the founder of the Royal Academy, who preached equality, had implemented the uniform system. The small differences that seemed insignificant when everyone wore the same clothes became glaringly apparent the moment they took them off.

A massive annex. A master who wore absurdly expensive clothes as everyday attire. Rare and costly ingredients, generously served even to an unimportant guest.

Since this morning, the moss-like shadow in her heart, which had been bothering her, seemed to grow wider and wider.

The inferiority complex that thrived within Tilia twisted and writhed inside her whenever she became keenly aware of the gap between herself and Ilex—each time she realized she was in no position to so much as scratch him.

The more it happened, the more she failed to notice how she herself grew uglier as the master of such lowly emotions.

With an inward sigh, Tilia reached out for the nearest dish without saying anything.

As Tilia began eating, Ilex, who had been watching her in silence, also moved his utensils.

In the dining room, with its notably antique atmosphere, only the sound of cutlery clinking against dishes echoed.

“You can leave the asparagus to the side. You don’t have to eat it all.”

The man spoke up when she reached for the grilled asparagus in front of her.

“Why?”

Though the table was filled with her favorite foods, for some reason, she had no appetite. Tilia, who had been picking at her plate, raised her head.

“If I want to eat it, what does it matter to you?”

Her tone came out sharp on its own. Tilia looked directly at Ilex Davenport’s composed face and deliberately put the asparagus into her mouth.

Ilex, who was staring at her despite her provocative attitude, casually spoke, “Do you like asparagus?”

After a moment of contemplation, she answered in a small voice, “No.”

She wanted to say yes, just to irritate him, but a meaningless lie didn’t come easily.

Tilia hated asparagus. Whenever it showed up in the school cafeteria, she would subtly push it aside and pretend not to notice.

“I don’t like it.”

As she swallowed the vegetable, feeling strangely defeated, Ilex asked again, “Then why are you eating it?”

“I can eat it if it’s grilled.”

“Ah.”

As if he’d learned something insignificant, Ilex nodded lightly and focused on his meal again.

Watching him eat with such elegant manners—something out of an etiquette book—Tilia frowned slightly.

“By the way.”

It was Tilia who broke the long silence. She tried to sound nonchalant, stirring her meatball soup without much enthusiasm.

“Do you usually call a priest?”

“…No.”

His answer came a beat late, the same as hers had been. Ilex, who had lifted his head the moment she spoke, lowered his gaze again as he set down his utensils.

“I don’t usually call one. I only called one yesterday because I thought there might be some aftereffects.”

“Ah.”

This time, it was Tilia who nodded as if she had learned something trivial.

Right, it made sense given what they had done. And it seemed it wasn’t normal either. Well, if it was always like that, it would wear everything out.

With that mundane thought, Tilia lowered her head again and resumed her meal.

After that, she never looked up or spoke again.

On the other hand, Ilex, sitting across from her in his uncomfortable formal attire, periodically glanced up to check what and how much food his lone guest was eating.

However, throughout it all, the ever-cautious Ilex never once let the woman across from him catch his gaze.

***

Tilia had stubbornly refused the Davenport carriage, and in the end, she left in a hired coach that Ilex had called for her.

What’s the point of pretending we aren’t connected? Soon, a gift bearing the unmistakable Davenport insignia will arrive at her house.

“When is it supposed to arrive?”

“It would be prepared and delivered as soon as possible, so it should reach the Ambrose residence before this evening.”

“Tell them to deliver it sooner.”

Ilex gave the command before Benjamin Rogers, the old butler, had even finished speaking.

“Tell them to deliver it before Tilia gets home if possible. No later than 1 p.m.”

“That might be difficult considering the quantity that needs to be prepared… Understood.”

The butler, who had been about to say it was impossible, looked at his young master’s face, sighed lightly, and bowed his head.

“I’ll make sure to tell them to deliver it before Lady Tilia returns home, no later than 1 p.m.”

“And summon all the servants. Every single one, without exception.”

Now that Tilia had left, it was time to deal with what he had put off until she was gone.

With a hardened expression, Ilex added in a cold voice to the one familiar face among the household staff.

“Especially make sure to bring in the maids who attended to the guest this morning.”

***

Nancy, who had secured a position as head maid after twenty years of service, was enjoying quite a satisfying life.

The elegant townhouse in the capital where she had been appointed as head maid—Essentine House—was owned by the renowned Davenport Ducal family. This association brought her even greater prestige, filling her days with contentment.

At least, that was the case until yesterday, when the second young master of the Davenport family brought home a fierce woman.

The mansion, where the late Duke Davenport had spent his final years, was said to be the second son’s property. The late Duke, who had been particularly fond of his second grandson, had gifted him several villas and valuable estates, of which this stately mansion was one.

But it was said—or rather inferred—that the Essentine House was only nominally the second son’s; the real owner was the current Duke Davenport.

After all, it was Duke Davenport who had fired the former head maid and many of the previous servants, excluding the butler, and hired Nancy.

“Take good care of Ilex. He worries me greatly, so if you notice anything unusual, report it to me at once.”

The Duke, with his strikingly handsome face, had said this as he hired Nancy as the new head maid.

“Everyone but the butler is newly hired, so it’ll be a challenge for you. But I trust you’ll do well.”

His warm encouragement accompanied his words. It was only natural that Nancy ended up swearing her loyalty to the generous Duke.

Thus, the ordeal she was experiencing now was even more unpleasant. Lined up in a row like the rest of the servants, as if being punished, and facing Ilex Davenport, who acted as if he had just become aware of her existence—

The Duke’s second son, even more handsome than the portraits she’d seen, surveyed the gathered servants with cold eyes.

His gaze was so icy that even the usually playful youngest maid seemed frozen.

After observing the staff for a while, Ilex let out a small, mocking laugh.

“Is it the Duke, or the heir to the Dukedom?”

Nancy blinked in confusion at his puzzling words, watching as her young master stepped forward and came to stand directly in front of her.

“Was it the Duke or the heir who fired the previous staff and hired new ones?”

“It was His Grace, the Duke, who hired me.”

Finally understanding his question, Nancy bowed her head as she answered.

“I was appointed head maid here two weeks ago. I hope to be of service…”

“So, everything that happened today will reach my father’s ears, won’t it?”

Ilex cut her off, sneering.

“Since you’re my father’s new ears, after all.”

“…I am merely loyal to House Davenport…”

“I don’t know when the meaning of loyalty changed.”

It seemed her young master had overheard Tilia’s biting words from earlier that morning through the door.

Looking down at her, he murmured coldly, “Apparently, loyalty now includes actions that defy the master’s intention to treat a guest with care.”

Nancy’s face hardened as she found herself being chastised by the young master in front of all the other servants.

As the memory of the young man, intoxicated and disoriented, stumbling in last night came to mind, a sense of humiliation flared in her.

He hadn’t even recognized her as the new head maid, seemingly only focused on taking that woman into his room—utterly consumed by his desire for her.