A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 62

The wind blowing from the lakeside on a winter night that seemed like it would snow was cold. Even though the man’s large back somewhat shielded her, the chill was undeniable.

It was a freezing wind, sharp enough to make one forget the thought of spring. It grazed her exposed ears, nose, and neck, leaving her skin stinging as if the cold had seeped in for too long.

However, the air between the two of them, locked in each other’s gaze, was different. Amid the peculiar tension, there was an incomprehensible heat surging.

In her ears, she could only hear the cold wind running over the surface of the water. The silence was so profound that she feared even the sound of her swallowing might be audible.

In the darkness resembling the quiet of night, Tilia looked up at Ilex with vacant eyes, watching him fiddle with the ring on his finger as if trying to endure something. 

She had no idea what thoughts were running through his mind, marked by his occasional throat movements. Nor could she fathom what desires filled his misty gray-blue eyes, which resembled a sky cloaked in fog. Just as it had always been since she met him, Tilia found herself at a loss.

But there was one thing she was certain of: the man was on the verge of unleashing something he had been suppressing for a long time.

“…Tilia.”

Breaking the prolonged silence, his voice was low, like a candle’s flame trembling in the breath of wind.

“When you go to Ontaroa…”

But Tilia instinctively knew. The spark he was about to throw at her was not something that could be easily extinguished. It was a blaze capable of consuming her life entirely, leaving her with severe burns.

“With me… together…”

A sense of impending doom gripped her. She felt as though she were facing a disaster that would scar her body and soul alike. But despite knowing this, Tilia was helpless. She didn’t know how to stop him. Perhaps she didn’t even want to stop him.

Even as she realized her fate was about to plunge into the mire, she stared blankly at his lips. Just then, a voice called out from beyond the path they had ignored.

“Ilex.”

Startled, Tilia’s head shot up, and her eyes fell on an unexpected figure.

With red hair as vivid as her teary, red-rimmed eyes, Cecilia Clayton stood before them.

Quickly alternating her glare between Ilex and Tilia, Cecilia walked toward them briskly.

“It was true.”

Her white breath, expelled in fury, made it clear she was not merely trembling from the cold.

“The rumors about you two meeting every dawn and doing all sorts of things…”

Cecilia’s voice, trembling faintly, made Tilia’s face flush with embarrassment.

A few months ago, after visiting Tilia’s spot and staring at her for an extended time, Cecilia had shown no further reaction. After much contemplation, Tilia had concluded that Cecilia’s calmness stemmed from Ilex’s intervention. He must have spoken to her in advance, promising to always wear her ring as a token of their engagement during his nighttime lessons.

Otherwise, Cecilia’s tolerance couldn’t explain why the feminine ring, which disappeared during the day but reappeared on his hand at night, hadn’t incited her anger.

Thus, Tilia had thought of the lessons as somewhat permitted by Cecilia, the future fiancée. But the rage emanating from Cecilia now left Tilia dumbfounded.

Cecilia glared at her with murderous intent. Under the icy blue fury, Tilia’s shoulders shrank slightly. It wasn’t the first time she had been treated as a mistress. She had already tasted such humiliation in front of Cecilia’s friends on the day before school started.

But strangely, her feelings were different this time. Though her lips trembled slightly, her heart felt uneasy, as if she truly were guilty.

What was it? What made her avoid Cecilia’s gaze? Was it because she felt like she truly was coveting someone else’s man, as if she really were an illicit lover?

Just as she stopped biting her lips, startled by her own thoughts, her vision was suddenly filled with someone’s back.

After blinking several times, Tilia realized Ilex had stepped in front of her, blocking her view.

A faint laugh escaped Cecilia, as if she found this situation ridiculous. Even as she confronted Cecilia, Tilia had managed to maintain her composure until now. But her heart wavered dramatically at the sight before her.

What are you doing?

It was as though he were shielding a mistress from her rightful rival. Tilia grew agitated and irritably pushed against his shoulder as he blocked her.

“I don’t care. Men having mistresses isn’t exactly rare.”

As if driving a wedge, Cecilia muttered in a cold voice. Her words caused Tilia’s hands, which had been roughly pushing against the man’s solid shoulders, to freeze in place.

“That mouth of yours…”

But the reason Tilia stopped wasn’t due to Cecilia’s remark.

“You’d better keep it shut.”

Under her palm, the man’s muscles radiated heat, hardening like iron. It was the reaction of someone who had heard an unimaginable insult, stiffening with fury.

Pausing for a moment, Tilia cautiously pulled her hand away from his shoulder and stepped to the side to look at his face. But once again, Ilex moved first. He shifted his body to block her view, positioning himself between Tilia and Cecilia.

Beyond his broad back, Cecilia’s trembling voice came through.

“Even if you glare at me like that, it doesn’t change anything. You know this, Ilex. In the end, you’re going to be my fiancé…”

“Cecilia Clayton.”

Trapped behind his back, Tilia couldn’t see Ilex’s face. But one thing she could tell for certain was that the expression he wore now was one he had never shown her before.

“It seems my words don’t get through to you.”

The voice, emerging from the owner of that broad back, was smooth. Yet it carried a tension so heavy with suppressed anger that no one could miss it.

As she listened quietly, Tilia’s expression gradually changed. It was strange. Despite standing before an enraged man and hearing his threatening voice, she didn’t feel the least bit afraid.

Rather, a warmth began to rise somewhere within her chest. It felt like…

“If you open your mouth one more time, you’ll witness the worst man you’ve ever met in your life.”

Protection. Yes, something she had never experienced before—it felt as though she was being protected.

At the sound of his voice, trembling with barely-contained fury, Cecilia let out a sob and turned to flee. Ilex, standing like a wall in front of Tilia, remained in place for a long time even after Cecilia disappeared.

Only after some time passed did he seem to gather himself. Slowly turning his head, he looked down at Tilia.

“…Let’s go.”

His voice, directed at the woman trembling slightly as if from the cold, was subdued, as though it were submerged underwater.

***

Though their meeting place before lessons often changed, the path back was always the same. A dark alley leading to the dormitory’s back gate, used only by supervisors. The quiet path, dimly lit by sparse gas lamps, was silent to the point of desolation.

Lost in their respective thoughts, they trudged along until they finally arrived at their destination.

“…I’ll go now.”

Standing before a large, leafless tree, Tilia spoke to Ilex, who remained silent, and turned to leave.

“Tilia.”

But his urgent voice stopped her in her tracks. Her hand, which had been reaching for the gate, froze as she turned to face Ilex, whose expression had grown grim.

“…Forget it.”

After a prolonged silence, his words carried a vague meaning.

After a moment of contemplation, Tilia spoke without letting go of the iron gate she was holding.

“Forget what? That Cecilia said dirty rumors about the two of us are spreading? That she treated me like a mistress? Or that you’re going to be engaged to her soon?”

She had only wanted to clarify his words, but Ilex’s face instantly turned pale. For a while, he seemed at a loss for words, staring at her in silence before furrowing his brows in frustration.

“All of it.”

“……”

“Forget everything Cecilia Clayton said. None of it is worth remembering.”

As she listened to his brusque tone, Tilia stared at his face in silence. Ilex Davenport’s expression was somehow unfamiliar. He looked anxious, as if he were being chased—or perhaps chasing something himself.

At the realization that the composure was gone from his face, a strange impulse stirred within Tilia’s chest. Why? Questions she had to suppress during their rare lessons rose to the surface like fish jumping from a blue sea.