A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 72

The child, having received healing from the priest to be presented before others, gazed down at the coffin with an expression devoid of emotion.

Just as the traces of violence on her body had been erased, the bruises on her mother’s face had been delicately concealed by the undertaker’s makeup.

Surrounded by white flowers, her mother finally appeared to be at peace.

Only then did the child truly realize how utterly pointless it had been to seek out her father. Even if she had managed to call for a doctor, her mother, upon surviving, would not have felt even the slightest joy.

“It’s all right, Tilia. It’s all right. Daddy is here. You still have your father by your side…”

Conscious of the Count of Palmer and his wife, who had only come to see their daughter after her death, her father shed false tears as he embraced the child.

As she inhaled the nauseating scent of his cologne, Tilia made a resolution with empty eyes, no longer able to remain in childhood.

She must never harbor expectations of others again. She must never be deceived by hope.

She must never believe in love, never think that affection untouched by deceit and desire could exist.

That resolution was the final lesson her wise mother had taught her, the guiding principle of her life.

It was the only weapon and armor that allowed her to barely protect herself in a life only marginally better than hell.

Thus, after closing the eyes of a mother who had met death neither by suicide nor by murder, Tilia’s goal had remained the same.

Not to die like her mother. Not to choose the same foolish path her mother had taken. Never to be deceived by fleeting emotions and optimism, never to arrogantly believe in anything.

That goal had protected her throughout her short yet long life.

Both physically and mentally.

Expectations she never foolishly held safeguarded her in moments of crisis, and her habit of constant doubt had saved her in unforeseen moments.

It was not a curse. It was not a scar. Her inability to believe in love was the final gift her mother had left her—a blessing.

At least, until she met him.

She was certainly moving farther from Arkansis. As if something that had been lurking in darkness was now beginning to be illuminated, a faint light of realization started to seep into her vague emotions.

With vacant eyes, Tilia reached toward the deceit buried deep within her chest.

Ilex Davenport was a man cloaked in radiance. Though she pretended otherwise, she, too, would instinctively glance in his direction whenever he appeared.

She had not forgotten her mother’s death. It was simply an unavoidable human instinct.

Just as one’s gaze is drawn to a beautifully glistening emerald forest. Just as one cannot help but look up at the towering spire that reaches toward the heavens.

Knowing that the closer she got, the more her own wretchedness would stand out, she had persistently avoided walking by his side.

And so, when she drank the holy water and ended up lying with him, she had found a small measure of solace in the fact that her first experience had been with such a brilliant man. It was a thought befitting those she had always despised, yet she had felt it nonetheless.

That night, when she was forced into bed, when everything had happened entirely against her will.

At the very least, the fact that it was someone she had chosen, someone she had secretly thought of as a gem shining beneath the water, allowed her to push away some of the sorrow.

But she had never, not once, wished for anything beyond that.

Tilia knew all too well how far a moment of carelessness, a single misjudgment, could drive a person into ruin.

She had ruthlessly uprooted any emotions that could corrode her resolve before they had the chance to take root. She had never entertained the slightest thought of nurturing a disaster within her heart that would one day destroy her.

And yet, despite that, when Ilex Davenport slowly began to seep into her life—

Tilia felt as though the very foundation of her existence was trembling.

The truth was, she had already known.

She had known what the actions of the man who lingered around her truly meant.

That when he had risked himself without a second thought to save her, when he had lied just so he could buy her ice cream, when he had filled the table with all the foods she liked—

There was no way she could not understand.

She wasn’t a fool. Ilex had always looked at her with the most fervent confession in his eyes.

With an affection so tender it was impossible to ignore, so overwhelming he could not even look at her directly, only stealing glances from the side.

But each time she realized just how deep, how vast, and how long his feelings had existed, unease would creep into her heart.

And exactly as much as that fear grew, she was drawn to him.

Yes, now she understood.

She had despised him because she was drawn to him. She had feared him because he unsettled her.

Because she could not bring herself to feel contempt for him. Because she could not dismiss him.

Because she could no longer live in the same fearful, indifferent world of muted colors as before.

The fact that her resolve was wavering had been a secret hidden in the deepest part of her heart.

The truth was, she, too, had the desire to rely on someone. She had the yearning to be loved. It was a weakness she didn’t even want to admit to herself.

But a hidden awl will inevitably pierce through the pocket one day.

She hadn’t been fully aware of it, but she had vaguely known.

That, for some reason, she was particularly vulnerable to Ilex Davenport.

It wasn’t that no one had ever approached her in the same way before. Nor was it the first time she had received similar interest and kindness.

Yet, she had never been able to push him away as coldly as she had others in the past.

She had left the door slightly ajar, just enough for him to slip through. She had left a small opening, just enough that he wouldn’t give up until the very end.

Ilex hadn’t known this. And until today, even she hadn’t fully realized it.

But looking back now, she understood everything.

She had come up with all sorts of excuses to justify herself, but the real reason she had followed him to the annex, the real reason she had lied even to herself, claiming she was simply drunk on holy water, the real reason she had turned the carriage around to retrieve him—

Was because she couldn’t bear the thought of him sleeping with another woman.

The truth was, she liked seeing him struggle to stay by her side. She liked the affectionate concern he showed her while pretending it was nothing.

Whenever his beautiful gray-blue eyes, filled with unconditional love, looked at her, the arid desert of her heart would momentarily be quenched, like rain pouring down on parched land.

But when she could have easily acknowledged that truth, Tilia stubbornly closed her eyes. Even when she saw it, she pretended not to. She deceived herself.

She had feigned ignorance. She had acted as though an easily solvable problem was an unsolvable riddle, indulging in hypocrisy.

She had known full well what those eyes meant, what it meant to allow him to remain by her side.

Yet she had deliberately feigned ignorance.

A tingling sensation suddenly tickled her cheek. Only then did Tilia realize she was crying.

But simply realizing it didn’t change anything. Just like the regret consuming her now.

I had no choice.

Wiping her cheek roughly, she muttered excuses to herself, unsure if they were meant for someone else or for her own conscience.

She truly had no choice. The reason she had feigned ignorance until the very end was simply because she wanted to survive.

The first vow of her childhood—to never believe in love—had been her final line of defense.

She had been terrified. If that defense was broken, she feared that the world she had believed in would perish without even a single scream.

If she acknowledged that what he felt for her was love, and as a natural consequence, admitted that she, too, was drawn to him, then—

She would die.

Just like her mother.

She feared that his love would destroy her.

That was why she had done it. That alone was the one absolute truth. There had been a desperate reason why she had ignored his love.

It was cowardly. It was something no one else would understand. But that was how it was.

Just as she silently wept, suffocating in the truth that threatened to consume her—

“Josephine, look over there.”

As if from a world separate from the one where Tilia was being punished, a warm and gentle voice reached her ears.

Turning her head slightly, she saw the woman beside her holding her child tightly, pointing towards the train window.

“Isn’t it beautiful? The snow has stopped. Even the sea seems happy that our Josephine is coming.”

The woman, who had initially been wary of her, turned out to be a gentle mother.

At her soft words, Tilia, as if she were the child in her arms, slowly turned her head. And only then did she truly take in the view that had been in front of her all along.

The woman was right. At some point, the sleet had stopped.

The fog that had made the world blurry had lifted, and at last, the outside was clearly visible through the window.

It was as if they were cutting through the middle of the sea. The vast expanse of ocean stretched endlessly before her frozen eyes.

Breaking through the cloudy sky, slanted beams of sunlight poured down like pillars, and the calm sea shimmered as if it were all a lie.

As she absentmindedly gazed at the dazzling sight, she saw a reflection in her eyes.

A man whose eyes shone as beautifully as the sea before her.

Now that the thick, suffocating fog had lifted—now that she had removed the blindfold that had been both a blessing and a curse—she could finally see him clearly.

Ilex Davenport was not some heartless scoundrel who toyed with people’s emotions. He was not the womanizing fool she had thought him to be.

The feelings he had held for her had never been something meant to harm her. They were not a disaster that would lead her to her grave.

It was simply… love.

That was all it had ever been.

As the deep-blue mist of fear dissipated, the truth stood before her.

The man she had once scorned, the man she had convinced herself would destroy her.

But in the end, the one who saved her with his love.

The first man who had ever loved her. The man who had loved her with nothing but devotion.