A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 7

She had always known Ilex lived by his own rules, but to think he’d skip an exam.

Tilia recalled seeing her name at the top of the freshman cultural studies final exam scores and then, much later, watching Ilex Davenport stroll in, met with playful teasing from his friends.

“Ilex, what were you doing that you missed the exam?”

“I was sleeping.”

“What? This guy’s hopeless!”

Tilia would never forget the sense of defeat she had felt in that moment, overhearing that conversation. She had been so proud and pleased, even believing for a second that she had finally beaten him. She had felt so satisfied, so triumphant, after checking the results on her report card. And yet, for this man, the very thing she had been so desperate to achieve was less important than a nap.

From that day on, Tilia half-abandoned the hope that she would ever surpass him. In its place, she planted the seeds of inferiority and jealousy. And those feelings grew like moss, spreading inside her every time she saw Ilex effortlessly take the things she desired so deeply.

Like now.

“Oh, we’ve arrived.”

Tilia snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Cecilia’s voice from behind. She had been lost in her memories for so long that she hadn’t noticed they had nearly reached the brightly lit lobby of the women’s dormitory.

Finally, this ordeal was over.

With a lighthearted expression, Tilia turned toward the building of two-person rooms, quickening her pace. She wanted nothing more than to leave them behind and retreat to the comfort of her own room. The faster she walked, the closer her escape felt.

“…Ilex.”

Finally, at the fork in the path just before Tilia disappeared into the women’s dormitory building, Cecilia’s voice rang out quietly.

“Do you want to come inside?”

She asked in a soft voice, her eyes slightly lowered. Her damp lashes fluttered lightly, as if with both excitement and nervousness.

“It’s cold outside. Maybe a cup of tea…?”

“Cecilia Clayton.”

“Huh?”

Cecilia’s blue eyes widened in surprise as she lifted her head at the sound of Ilex’s voice. But what she saw wasn’t the warm smile she had hoped for.

No, Ilex’s expression was colder than the frost-covered ground.

“Did I wait for you?”

It would have been better if he had been simply cold. At least then, it would have meant he had once felt warmth.

“Tell me, did I wait for you?”

There was no emotion on Ilex Davenport’s face as he stared at her. There was only a vague sense of boredom and annoyance with the situation.

“I never waited for you.”

With a blank expression, Ilex Davenport laid out the truth.

“And I never will. Not now, not ever.”

***

“The exam lasts 90 minutes. As you know, only black pens are allowed, and any cheating will result in a retake for everyone. This is the graduation exam, so I know you’re all nervous, but I’m sure you’ll do great. Alright then, begin!”

As soon as the bespectacled teaching assistant finished speaking, the sound of pages turning echoed through the room. Tilia, seated by the window, quickly scanned the entire exam paper before taking a deep breath and picking up her pen.

The scratch of her pen on the paper filled the air as she started writing without hesitation.

From his seat at the very top of the amphitheater-style lecture hall, Ilex, who had been resting his chin in his hand, turned his head slightly. His blue-gray eyes moved directly toward one spot.

Tilia Ambrose.

There was a faint trace of tension in Ilex’s expression as he watched her.

His gaze landed on the furrow between her brows as she focused on the exam questions, then drifted to her serious green eyes and finally to her red lips, which she bit lightly as she chewed on the tip of her pen.

Soon, as if she had figured something out, Tilia’s previously still hand moved quickly across the page.

Watching her, Ilex’s own tension eased. He smirked faintly before spinning his pen once between his fingers and lowering it to the paper to begin answering the questions. His exam sheet, like Tilia’s, began filling with neat black letters.

***

Tilia muttered quietly to herself as she flipped through her notes, reviewing them one last time. The first graduation exam at the academy consisted of eight required cultural subjects and four elective subjects. To proceed to the next semester and take the second round of exams, students had to pass all twelve subjects with a minimum grade. Failing even one would mean repeating two semesters.

“I’m done for. I totally failed.”

From the very first day of exams, the lecture hall was filled with students’ sobs, and this was why.

It didn’t matter how well you did on the other exams—if you failed just one, it was over.

I wonder how Judy did.

Tilia tapped the edge of her notebook with her pen, worrying about her roommate, who had been placed in a different class.

But she quickly pushed that worry aside. She had to focus on the words in front of her if she was going to get through the next test.

Her next exam was rhetoric—the subject she struggled with the most.

‘Damn those feudal lords.’

Tilia, who aimed for high scores in almost every subject, could only hope to scrape a passing grade in rhetoric. In fact, given that over 80% of repeat students were held back because of this subject, passing it alone would put her in the upper ranks.

‘If they want to claim power, why can’t they just say so directly? Why do they have to twist their words like this?’

As she frowned, trying to decipher the convoluted classical texts, Tilia’s thoughts turned dark.

If I could travel back in time, I’d kick that sycophantic noble straight in the backside.

Even as she cursed the ancient text, she was still diligently memorizing its rhetoric when she overheard a whisper from behind her, just a little off to the side.

“Cecilia, did you take it? That… potion?”

I should have brought earplugs.

Scolding herself for not being more prepared, Tilia quickly flipped another page in her notebook.

“Yes, I took it. How could I not? This is the graduation exam.”

But once you start noticing a conversation, it’s hard to ignore.

That potion… It must be the holy water that’s so popular in high society these days.

“Who doesn’t take it nowadays? I’d be at a disadvantage if I didn’t.”

The lecture hall was filled with students cramming for their next exam, but Tilia’s ears were only focused on the quiet whispers led by Cecilia.

“True. Everyone else is practically racing ahead on horseback, so I can’t be the only one running barefoot.”

“But Cecilia, where did you get yours from? There are so many fakes going around these days.”

Stop listening to them. Focus on your notes.

Tilia forcefully pushed the conversation from her mind, returning her focus to her study materials.

Here, the pale moon symbolizes an objective correlative, deepening the speaker’s sense of pessimism…

“I just drank what my parents brought. I don’t know where they got it from. They don’t really tell me that sort of thing.”

…This speech is strong in ethos and pathos but lacks logos, as evidenced by…

“Tilia. Tilia!”

Just as Tilia was regaining her concentration, a voice called out her name. She looked up to see Cecilia, as immaculate as ever, standing nearby with a slightly flustered group of followers behind her.

Why would they be calling me?

“What is it?” Tilia, her smile laced with a bit of caution, looked at Cecilia. “Is there something you want to ask?”

“No, I was just wondering how your studying is going. Not that I need to ask. You’re probably doing fine, right?”

With a bright smile, Cecilia glanced down at Tilia’s notebook. “Wow, your notes are really organized. You could sell these.”

“No way, who’d buy them?”

“Why not? I’d buy them.”

Cecilia laughed lightly, her eyes lingering on Tilia’s notes before she pulled something out of her pocket.

“Actually, I didn’t come over just to ask how you were doing. I wanted to give you this.”

“What is it?”

“It’s something that helps with concentration. From the look on your face, I guess you haven’t tried it yet. Good. Give it a shot. You’ll notice a real difference.”

Tilia looked at the small transparent bottle Cecilia placed in front of her notes, then back up at her.

“And why are you giving this to me?”

Why give this to me? There’s no reason for you to do something like this.

Even though the question was unspoken, it was clear in Tilia’s eyes. But Cecilia’s expression remained warm and gentle as she gazed back at her.