A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 51

The road outside the bookstore, where Tilia had left earlier than expected, was being warmed by the summer sun.

Though the sun was hot, Tilia had no intention of going back home just yet.

Her father was still inside the mansion, impatiently waiting for the chance to parade her as a trophy to their guests.

If that was the case…

About to move on to another bookstore, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, struck by a thought.

Maybe it was because of the heat. The memory of the ice cream that the man had bought for her not too long ago suddenly resurfaced.

‘It was really good.’

Recalling the taste of the best ice cream she’d ever had, Tilia’s eyes wandered aimlessly.

Her white hand fumbled in her quite stuffed pocket. With her life now more comfortable, Tilia’s financial situation had improved as well.

She no longer had to hand over money to George Ambrose, which meant she could keep her entire allowance from the academy. Plus, the unexpected gift of books had drastically reduced her expenses.

With her newfound wealth, Tilia decided to indulge herself a little.

‘Should I go buy some?’

Of course, her desire to go to the ice cream shop wasn’t purely driven by her appetite.

‘Judy would love it too…’

The face of her one and only friend, who liked sweets as much as she did, floated into her mind.

Throughout the years they’d spent as roommates, Tilia had often been indebted to Judy. She had taken countless snacks from Judy without the slightest shame.

‘Anyway, I’ll be getting my allowance again once the next semester starts.’

Opening her pocket to count the money, Tilia resolutely set off with a determined look.

Her destination was the ice cream shop with the fresh strawberries—the one Ilex Davenport had shown her.

It’s more expensive than I thought.

That was the first thing that crossed Tilia’s mind when she looked at the price list outside the shop.

I can’t afford it.

After calculating how many ice creams she needed to buy and comparing that to the money she had, that was the conclusion she reached.

Suppressing the disappointment she felt at her obvious failure, Tilia kept her composure and shoved the money back into her pocket.

She couldn’t even afford one, let alone buy some for Judy and Countess Wells.

Too bad. Despite thinking that, Tilia put on a brave face, acting as if it didn’t bother her, and just as she was about to turn away, she noticed the sign.

‘This is…’

Staring at the colorful advertisement for a moment, Tilia hurried into the shop.

“What would you like to order?”

“Um, about the sign outside…”

“Oh, are you referring to the promotional giveaway running for a month? Yes! If you buy three or more, we give you a free vanilla ice cream. Would you like to add three to your order?”

“Oh, no…”

Tilia hesitated for a moment before cautiously asking the friendly shop assistant, “Is this shop a branch of a larger store in the capital?”

“No, miss! This ice cream shop was first opened by my uncle. Strictly speaking, it’s the main store—at least until we can open a branch.”

Hearing the shop assistant’s bright response, Tilia looked at her blankly for a moment, then nodded slowly and left the shop.

Ah. Trying to leave quickly, her foot caught on the wooden stand supporting the sign outside the shop.

Tilia quickly grabbed the sign, setting it upright again. As she carefully released her grip, she read the beautifully painted words.

Grand Opening Giveaway. Buy three, get one free.

‘He definitely said he came here with his ex-girlfriend. He said he’d been wanting that ice cream for a long time.’

Recalling Ilex’s words, Tilia trudged along the heated pavement.

There wasn’t another branch. This was the only one.

‘Then why?’

Chasing after the question that now confused her even more, Tilia kept walking.

She could feel the confusion she’d barely managed to set aside buzzing loudly in her mind again.

Walking down the hot midday road, it felt like she was trying to untangle a knot that just wouldn’t come undone.

Maybe it was because the sun overhead was so unbearably bright.

For some reason, her throat felt dry.

***

The day everyone had eagerly awaited—or prayed would never come—had finally arrived. It was the first day back to school.

With the long summer break over, the Royal Academy of Arkansis was quite empty as it began the second semester.

The reason was obvious—the final-year students who had failed the first exam of the semester had not returned.

The unlucky fourth-year students who failed to pass the first exam had automatically been placed on academic probation. They would have to wait another half year before retaking the first exam.

Thus, the final-year students who walked the campus now—albeit with gloomy faces—were the chosen few who had managed to pass the first exam.

Unlike other academies that started their first semester in the fall, the Royal Academy of Arkansis was famous for beginning its academic year in the spring.

The reason also had to do with the graduation exams.

Unlike other academies that held formal exams or allowed theses as a substitute for graduation requirements, the Royal Academy of Arkansis required its students to complete a rigorous graduation exam consisting of two parts.

Most final-year students failed during the first part, not the second.

The sentimental first headmaster of the Royal Academy had hoped that even students who failed miserably during the first exam could enjoy a happy end-of-year and New Year.

To that end, the headmaster went against everyone’s objections and chose summer, rather than winter, as the season in which students would learn of their first failure.

Had he simply ordered that the graduation exams be made a little easier, everyone would have been happy.

He had taken the long way around instead of finding an obvious solution.

However, the spring semester—introduced for a seemingly trivial reason—had unexpected effects.

Spring was when the social season began and when the royal family and various government offices recruited new members.

Thus, Royal Academy graduates could either flaunt their shining certificates in high society or secure employment immediately after graduation.

Of course, the jobs nobles referred to weren’t typical employment.

What they meant by employment was usually…

“When I graduate, I want to work as the chief maid for the Crown Princess.”

An honorary position that paid no salary or pension.

“Don’t you need a recommendation to get that?”

“Mrs. Smith said she’d write me a letter of recommendation once I graduate. She said I could be her top student on the first try.”

Tilia couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between the girls next to her, and she smiled secretly.

If she explained her own ambitions to these noble ladies, they would likely be stunned.

Her goal was to work as a foreign consulate officer in Ontaroa—a position that offered money, not honor, and even included a residence.

Composing her expression, Tilia adjusted her worn-out bag.

Her luggage had been sent ahead by her father, who was, surprisingly, still showing kindness, making this an unusually relaxed move-in day for her.

In fact, it wasn’t just “unusual”—it was the “first” time she had experienced anything like it.

Reflecting on the string of incredibly good fortune she’d recently had, Tilia took a confident step forward.

Thinking about the official document tucked away inside her tattered leather bag, her stride felt lighter.

Just last week, she had loitered near the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in the capital, pretending she had some business there, when she got her hands on a certain notice.

The notice announced that the Ontaroa Foreign Consulate, to foster better relations with the Royal Academy of Arkansis, would be giving additional points to its graduates.

But that wasn’t the only good news.

On the next page, the hiring plan for next year stated that official residences would be provided for new hires.

Residences would be assigned based on the applicants’ distance from the consulate—priority would be given to those whose home was furthest away.

Unless every new hire happened to come from the opposite side of the continent, it was obvious that Tilia would secure one of those residences.

Tilia, who had planned to live in an inn for the first few months even if she did get the foreign consulate position, had been so thrilled by the hiring plan that she wanted to jump up and down right there.

On the day she carefully carried that notice home, she laid her hand on her pounding heart and let her imagination run wild once more.

She was glad she’d persevered, keeping her inner castle safe despite her father’s and brother’s violence.

In the end, the world always stood by those who endured.

But it was still too early to let her guard down.

She still had to graduate from the academy—the crucial stepping stone to reaching her dream.

With that final obstacle in mind, Tilia tightened her grip on her old leather bag’s handle.