A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 53

Incompetent or foolish. It should be one or the other. Why must he be both incompetent and foolish?

Even though she knew those two qualities inevitably went hand in hand like twins, Tilia resented her contemptible father’s nature.

However, it wasn’t this realization that kept her up at night.

What bothered Tilia about his words wasn’t related to that but rather to the attitude that Cecilia and her entourage had shown her today.

Mistress. Tilia’s fingers slightly crumpled the corner of her notebook as she recalled Bradley’s resentful outburst.

Even though George had said it openly, her father had believed she and Ilex Davenport were in a relationship.

After all, Baron Ambrose had always dreamed of making a big profit from her marriage arrangements.

Yet even he had lashed out at her, calling her Ilex Davenport’s mistress.

To her greedy father, this meant that even he couldn’t see her becoming anything more than the second son’s mistress.

Though she had responded with sharp words, she couldn’t help but feel that Cecilia Clayton’s reaction might have been justified.

It must have been easier for his fiancée to see the truth. She must have seen what kind of gaze Ilex Davenport directed at her.

As the corner of her notebook threatened to tear under her grip, Cecilia’s words echoed in her ears.

“It’s alright, Hailey. It’s not like he’s only had one or two women.”

Those words were true as well. Ilex Davenport was known to be the academy’s most notorious scum.

The reason she had gotten involved with him in the first place was because of the rumors about him bedding numerous women.

Despite knowing all of this—despite even experiencing those rumors firsthand—she found herself foolish for doubting his intentions for so long.

There was no point in thinking about it. Everything must have been the result of coincidence or misunderstanding.

The chocolates, the asparagus, the ice cream shop with the grand opening discount.

It was all just a misunderstanding.

And even if it wasn’t, it didn’t matter. Even if he really had been watching her for a long time, it wouldn’t have made any difference.

After all, love from men was nothing more than fleeting lust, never holding any deeper significance.

‘Remember your mother’s death, Tilia.’

Punishing herself for the needless thoughts that had plagued her since visiting the ice cream shop, Tilia forced herself to recall the final moments of Baroness Ambrose.

The nightmare-like stench of blood and the excruciating stomach pain seemed to come alive once more. But Tilia faced that painful memory, using it to remind herself of harsh reality.

‘Remember the price paid for being deceived by falsehoods.’

Her sunken eyes blinked once, hiding beneath her eyelids before focusing again on her notebook.

Carefully smoothing out the crumpled corner, Tilia refocused her determined gaze on the notebook.

It was late at night, under the bright moon, when she, fully immersed in generating arguments, first detected the noise coming from afar.

She was reading the lines, pointing to each word with her finger, when she lifted her head to see who was wandering around the dormitories at such a late hour.

Perhaps it was a freshman having too much fun with friends, or maybe it was a night guard on patrol.

But her guesses were all wrong.

‘…Why is he here?’

The moment she recognized the tall figure approaching under the gaslight, Tilia’s expression hardened.

I have to hide. The thought struck her the moment she identified the tall man’s identity.

‘Where… where can I hide?’

The instinct to hide from him overwhelmed her. Without even understanding why, Tilia hurriedly concealed herself beneath the thick leaves of a shrub.

Step by step. The man with long strides soon stood directly in front of the two-person female dormitory.

She could feel his footsteps halt on the stairs leading to the main entrance.

Unfortunately, the spot Tilia chose to hide was a low bush, easily visible if he turned his head.

‘Go away. Just leave.’

Crouching low, Tilia crossed her arms, fearing he might hear the sound of her heartbeat, as she monitored his movements.

Once she had hidden, the reason for her hiding ceased to matter. Now, what mattered was not being discovered—not allowing her hiding to be known.

‘Just leave already…’

As no sound of retreat came, Tilia crouched even lower in frustration.

It was then, beneath the shrubs already turning to autumn, that a fallen leaf crunched softly under her foot.

AT that moment, Tilia froze behind the cypress tree, holding her breath.

Did he hear it? She strained to sense any movement from ahead, antennae-like instincts at full alert.

No sound came, even after a long time passed.

Believing it must have been covered by the wind, she let out a small sigh of relief.

It was then that she noticed the light from the streetlamp above had dimmed slightly.

Before she could process it, a chill ran down her spine.

Carefully lifting her head, she saw the man’s face, blocking the streetlight as he stood above the tree.

The eyes that seemed even more otherworldly in the backlight.

Those beautiful blue-gray eyes belonged to none other than Ilex Davenport—someone she hadn’t seen since that day.

At the moment she met those artistically handsome eyes staring at her, Tilia realized why she had been so desperate to hide.

No excuses were necessary.

She simply didn’t want to meet this man.

The man who would soon be engaged to Cecilia Clayton. The man who seemed to want to make her his mistress.

She wanted to avoid him at all costs.

As she grasped her reason for hiding, a sense of wretchedness settled in.

Why must this man persistently find me, only to make me feel so pathetic?

Her aimless anger targeted Ilex Davenport.

The rage was surely evident in her glaring eyes, yet Ilex Davenport spoke without any care.

“What are you doing there?”

His voice even seemed cheerful.

Deflated by his carefree demeanor, so different from her own, Tilia abruptly stood, brushing the leaves off her skirt.

I should have just turned and walked away the moment he saw me.

Regretting her attempt to hide, she watched as he approached her, standing on the steps and looking up at her with an amused smile.

Why is he smiling? She lifted her head in exasperation, noticing his gaze fixed on her notebook.

“Studying all the way out here?”

His words, as if complimenting her diligence, irritated her even more.

Yes, you’re a genius who doesn’t need to make such efforts. One more reason to turn her back on him, and she didn’t hesitate.

But Ilex was faster.

Before she could turn, he snatched the notebook from her hand, quickly scanning the topics she’d been reviewing.

“What are you doing?!”

“It’s well-organized.”

Dodging her attempt to grab the notebook back, Ilex continued, “But this topic won’t come up.”

He pointed to the one Tilia had been studying most intently.

She momentarily forgot about retrieving the notebook and snapped at him.

“How would you know? Are you on the exam committee?”

“It was covered in detail in the first exam’s written section. Unless it’s a mandatory course, it won’t come up again in the second exam if it was already in the first.”

His explanation, while flipping through the pages, left her at a loss for words.

She wanted to argue by citing examples of first-round questions that reappeared as second-round debate topics, but none came to mind.

Even though she had memorized every topic that had appeared in the second round thus far.

Why didn’t I notice this before? A comparison between the first and second exams of the same year would have easily revealed this.

As she sank into a feeling of futility, Ilex’s voice reached her ears again.

“Memorize this one. I think it’ll come up.”

“…Why? That was also on the first exam.”

“Philosophy is a required general course. And to connect it to the recent uprising in the southern region, only this ancient philosophy topic fits.”

Tilia stared silently at the debate topic his steady finger pointed at.

He was right again. She had dismissed it as an obvious topic, merely mumbling a few points to herself before moving on, but relating it to the recent uprising in the south would indeed change everything. The supporting arguments would inevitably be richer.

“And also…”

The quickly flipping pages caught her weary eyes.