A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 60

The place where he led her, in her flustered state, was a secluded path through the woods behind the lecture hall.

Dim gas lamps sparsely lit the dark path, making it just the kind of secret spot for lovers that he had mentioned.

‘He sure knows these hidden spots well.’

Looking around briefly, she turned her head to glance at the man walking beside her.

Without his jacket, Ilex Davenport, in his white shirt, seemed to glow even in the darkness. His blue eyes, which seemed lost in thought, were framed by long lashes, delicate and striking. His nose, elegantly straight, gave him a profile as beautiful as a painting.

Watching his face, it no longer seemed strange that he knew his way around secluded places in the academy.

Perhaps he’d come here before, though for different reasons than tonight.

Maybe that jacket of his had served as more than just something discarded, like tonight—maybe it had been a proper blanket.

As she walked, idly kicking a pebble, Tilia thought she had been foolish to worry about his reputation.

“How’s your Ontaroan conversation practice going?”

After a moment of silence, he abruptly asked a question that touched on her secret.

Tilia studied his face intently, as if trying to pry out the intent behind the inquiry, much like an interrogator dispatched to uncover a spy’s true motives.

“Did you finish the books you bought before?”

However, there was nothing to read from his expression. He spoke lightly, as if he meant nothing by it.

“Still, practicing with books and having real conversations are different things.”

Of course, why would he reveal anything? She’d had countless questions for him, but she’d never once received a proper answer to even one “why.”

“…I’ve read them.”

Tilia answered after a long silence, sighing.

“Like you said, practicing conversation from a book doesn’t mean much.”

“Why not find someone to practice with and improve your skills?”

“Easier said than done.”

She mumbled, her face clouded with frustration.

“Do you think it’s easy to find someone fluent in Ontaroan to help me practice for an interview? On top of that, I have to hide my motive—preparing for a consulate position. It’s impossible.”

“Why impossible?”

Ilex, who had quietly been listening, spoke before she finished.

“There’s someone right here.”

Hearing this, Tilia halted, her steps freezing mid-stride. She looked up at him.

Seeing her stop, Ilex also paused, looking down at her.

For a while, they stared at each other, as if trying to read one another, the chill autumn air filling the space between them.

His blue-gray eyes were as beautiful as glass marbles, yet not as transparent.

Sometimes, she felt an urge to dig deep into Ilex Davenport’s gaze, just to see what lay hidden within.

“Practice with me.”

Matching her silence, he finally spoke slowly.

“I’ll help you, so…”

For a fleeting moment, something incomprehensible seemed to smolder beyond those clear blue-gray eyes.

The intensity that emerged—like a bonfire blooming on a winter night, or perhaps a house fire threatening to engulf a cozy home—radiated from his cold gaze, and Tilia felt it spreading toward her.

“All you have to do is nod.”

The warmth from his gaze felt like it would leave a burn. The heat began at her temples, spread over her face, down her neck, and to her chest.

Tilia couldn’t understand this strange warmth. The erratic pounding of her heart made her uneasy. The feeling of her throat swelling, as if a large almond were lodged there, was unfamiliar.

“That’s all it takes.”

As if unable to endure her discomfort, she lowered her head, and his muffled voice echoed in her ears.

“Then I’ll help you however I can.”

Upon hearing this, something sprang up from her chest like a spark.

Why?

This single question, branching into countless doubts, surged within her, trying to make its way out.

Why are you helping me? No, before that—what was that ice cream shop holding a grand opening? Why do you act wary of Mackenzie Fitz? No, more than that—what was that food served at the annex? No, no. Even before all that…

Why did you sleep with me?

The flood of questions threatened to crush her, and she felt as if she might die if she didn’t voice them.

But Tilia stubbornly pushed down all the questions raging at her throat. She clenched her teeth and swallowed them, making sure they could never emerge.

It was an instinctual reaction. It was her survival instinct, trying to protect the life she desperately wanted to continue—the same instinct that told her she wouldn’t be able to handle the truth if she dared ask.

Heeding the warning, Tilia took a deep breath, closing and then opening her eyes.

She still had no idea what his true intentions were. But she chose to act as if she knew nothing—to cover the truth with dirt, like burying an empty grave.

But she needed his help. Paradoxically and selfishly, she needed him.

Even though she couldn’t tell what lurked within him, she needed Ilex Davenport’s help to escape this place and live the life she dreamed of in Ontaroa.

For survival, for a chance at a real life, Tilia was willing to do anything.

And so, instead of opening her mouth and demanding a reason, she nodded slowly.

Just as he had told her, just as her instinct told her to do—she quietly nodded.

Even at that cowardly affirmation, a relieved smile spread across Ilex’s face.

It was an exceptionally gentle smile—one that Tilia, her head bowed, failed to see.

***

The final semester for the graduating students of Arkansis Royal Academy flew by without a moment’s respite.

Before they could even fully admire the colorful autumn leaves, the trees had shed their coats, and the winds went from cool to chilling, turning bitterly cold overnight.

Unlike the other grades, the seniors barely noticed the passing of seasons and time, as they were cloistered in the library.

The second graduation exam was drawing near.

Even those final-year students who had once complained about their hectic schedule had stopped grumbling. Everyone was putting in the extra effort, reducing their sleep to get in just one more debate practice, and their faces bore signs of the exhausting journey.

The dark shadows under their eyes marked them unmistakably as fourth-year students.

Yet among these students, with their weary expressions, the one bearing the darkest shadows was none other than Tilia Ambrose, who was juggling exam preparation and preparing for the consulate interview.

During the early morning hours, after Judy had gone to sleep, secret lessons were conducted under the cover of darkness in secluded areas.

Typically, it was along the dark path behind the women’s dormitory, used by the dorm supervisors, but sometimes they practiced in the secluded corridors of the main building or even in the gymnasium storeroom.

As the seasons changed, the places people frequented also shifted, and Tilia and Ilex often found themselves wandering around in search of suitable locations for their lessons.

Tonight, they ended up at a lakeside, lined with pergolas—a place they had stumbled upon after losing the rehearsal room of the grand auditorium to an amorous couple.

“Put this on.”

On a cold night at the start of winter, not a soul could be seen near the lakeside, where the cold river wind blew freely. Since she hadn’t anticipated practicing outside, Tilia hadn’t brought a thick coat, and Ilex promptly offered her his.

“You’ll only lose out if you catch a cold. Wear it.”

At his insistence, Tilia reluctantly accepted the jacket. The garment, which the man—who seemed to hold summer’s warmth even in winter—had worn, felt as warm as a stove.

Right, not wearing it would be my loss. After all, Ilex Davenport would never catch a cold easily.

Trying to brush it off as no big deal, Tilia answered his question.

In the past few months, her Ontaroan skills had improved dramatically—enough to justify the dark shadows beneath her eyes.

Once again, his advice had been correct: practicing in real conversations differed significantly from learning through books. Her once awkward sentences now flowed smoothly, and her foreign accent had noticeably diminished.

It was all thanks to the lessons with Ilex Davenport.

[I believe the most important qualities in fulfilling my duties are responsibility and perseverance. I will strive to complete the tasks assigned to me for the good of the organization.]

Tilia glanced at him as she answered his question.

Her Ontaroan was full of traces of her teacher.

She pronounced like Ilex Davenport, structured sentences like Ilex Davenport. Her practice, imitating him like a parrot, had left its mark.