A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 76

Ilex had learned more than just that about Tilia Ambrose.

For reasons unknown, whenever she felt troubled or needed a change of pace, she would sit on the dormitory steps and study, just as he had seen before. During those times, she usually carried some kind of sweet treat in her pocket.

Since it was late at night, her guard was down, allowing him to observe her more closely than usual. Still, Ilex wished she wouldn’t come outside at night.

Whenever he saw her idly fidgeting with her notebook with a weary expression, an overwhelming ache gripped his chest, leaving him at a loss.

But that didn’t mean he always had to see Tilia with a stiff or tense expression.

When the semester came to an end and grades were calculated, her small face would soften ever so slightly with contentment.

However, the moment vacation was officially declared, she would immediately look sullen again—probably because she didn’t want to see her notoriously miserable family.

That’s the same for me. I hate my family too, so I hate vacations.

Building a one-sided sense of camaraderie, Ilex would watch her depart in an old carriage, sending her off alone.

Throughout the semester, instead of poring over useless theoretical books, the man had studied her. Information far more valuable than knowledge steadily accumulated on the bookshelf of his mind.

Among the various things he had learned about Tilia, the most significant was her deep aversion to men.

Tilia Ambrose disliked men.

This was different from the usual caution women showed toward men or the preference to avoid certain types of men. It didn’t take long for Ilex to confirm this after discreetly observing her for a while.

Tilia Ambrose, quite simply, despised the entire male species.

She was visibly displeased when a man sat next to her during class. If a group of men gathered and talked, she would go out of her way to take a longer route to avoid them.

She hated being spoken to, and even making eye contact seemed to irritate her.

To her, most men were treated as if they carried some infectious disease. But among them, there was one type she loathed above all others—

Those who had feelings for her. The ones who showed any form of interest in her.

It didn’t matter whether their actions were mere flattery or genuinely sincere. Tilia found them all equally repulsive.

Even group project members, whom she would tolerate as long as they did their fair share of the work, would receive a cold, contemptuous glare the moment they showed any sign of personal interest.

Still, Ilex had once naively assumed that perhaps she would react differently toward genuine affection. That illusion was shattered by a single event that completely changed his mind.

The man’s name was Samuel Jennings.

He was the third son of an unremarkable provincial count’s family. He approached Tilia with a sincerity that even Ilex had to acknowledge.

One autumn day, despite Tilia’s repeated dismissals, Samuel Jennings carefully, yet earnestly, confessed his feelings.

The location was an empty lecture hall corridor. He didn’t have loud, obnoxious friends lingering behind him, nor did he bring any gaudy, wealth-flaunting gifts.

In his hands were only a letter and a bouquet of flowers—nothing more.

His hands trembled with nerves, something even Ilex, who had been watching from a hidden corner, could see clearly.

After taking several deep breaths, Samuel Jennings shyly muttered something before hastily turning away as if fleeing.

Unable to summon the courage to hear her answer, he disappeared. Once he was gone, Tilia, her face unreadable, opened the letter.

Hidden behind a nearby wall, Ilex observed her with a tense expression.

His heartbeat pounded in his chest, his palms grew damp with sweat.

What if Tilia is moved by this? What if her heart wavers? What if she really accepts him…?

His throat went dry with anxious thoughts.

But in the end, his worries were utterly ridiculous.

Because the only expression that crossed Tilia’s face after reading the letter—lightly scented with cologne—was nothing but scorn.

It wasn’t even clear whether she had read the letter to the end.

Her gaze barely skimmed over the last lines before she tossed the paper and the flowers into the trash without hesitation. Then, as if she had touched something filthy, she flicked her fingers a few times and turned away mercilessly.

Watching this, Ilex stood frozen, unable to move, feeling as though all his previous concerns had been meaningless.

Seeing that, Ilex found himself unable to move, as if his worries about whether she might accept the confession had been pointless.

As if he himself were the owner of the letter and flowers that Tilia had discarded.

Tilia was a highly intelligent woman. There was no way she hadn’t noticed those eyes shining with pure affection, which even he could see.

Believing that sincerity would make a difference had been nothing but a foolish mistake.

Tilia despised men. Especially those who showed interest in her.

She didn’t care whether that interest stemmed from lust or genuine feelings.

Tilia Ambrose regarded men’s affections as nothing more than objects of absolute contempt.

Based on that experience, Ilex made a decision.

Not now, but if someday he ever came to have the same feelings for Tilia Ambrose as Samuel Jennings had, then—

He must never let Tilia find out.

He had to hide it, no matter what. He had to conceal it completely. So that…

He wouldn’t be thrown away like garbage, as if love itself were filth, just like Samuel Jennings.

But that decision was meaningless. A plan that didn’t even need to exist.

Because long ago, Ilex Davenport had already become just like Samuel Jennings to Tilia—or perhaps even worse.

***

It was an unusually lucky first day of the semester.

He shared quite a few lectures with Tilia. Of course, that was the result of persistently analyzing which courses she was interested in before registering, but still, if this weren’t destiny determined by the heavens, there was no way so many classes would overlap.

That wasn’t all. For the first time ever, Tilia was late. And not just to any lecture—she was late to one he was attending.

Had she overslept? Or had she lost her way? Even after the lecture began, Tilia was nowhere to be seen, until suddenly, she rushed into the classroom in a hurry.

Thanks to that, Ilex got to witness a new side of her from up close.

However, if it had ended there, he wouldn’t have even mentioned it. The greatest stroke of luck was yet to come.

Thunk. At the sound of the chair beside him moving, Ilex’s shoulders noticeably tensed.

No way. The sound inside his chest roared like a timpani player pounding forcefully on a drum with thick arms.

As the reverberating drumbeats echoed within him, he felt a soft breeze flutter against his ear.

One, two, three. After counting silently in his head, Ilex slowly turned his gaze. And there she was—Tilia, fanning her flushed face with the syllabus as if she had prepared for this moment.

Like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, a gentle breeze blew from her toward him.

With it came a scent. A fragrance as beautiful as if spring itself had been compressed and then released all at once filled his lungs.

Throughout the entire lecture, Ilex failed to register the professor’s voice.

Inside his chest, an orchestra that had begun with the grand beats of a timpani continued to play through the lecture’s introduction.

The delicate melody of a flute, the deep resonance of a cello, the elegant harmony of a piano’s keys.

An orchestral piece with no known title or performer was being performed sweetly upon his wildly beating heart.

Drunk on the scent of spring and the music in his chest, for the first time in his life, Ilex wished the lecture would never end.

But whether it be joy or sorrow, all things must come to an end.

Never before had a professor’s voice announcing the conclusion of a lecture sounded so irritating.

While Ilex, anxious and desperate to remain by her side, was searching for any excuse to stay with her a little longer, the sound of movement beside him told him she was preparing to leave without hesitation.

He didn’t want to let her go. A sense of urgency gripped him in an instant.

Just a little longer. Even just for a brief moment—please, just a little more…

As Ilex’s mind scrambled for any reason to keep her there, something the professor had said before the lecture flashed through his thoughts.

“There will be a quiz starting tomorrow.”

That was the only part of the lecture Ilex had managed to remember before losing himself in thoughts of Tilia.

Grateful that he had retained even that much, he struggled to keep his voice steady and casual as he spoke.

“We’re starting from Chapter 1 of the introductory textbook.”

At his words, Tilia, who had already risen from her seat, turned her head toward him.

The moment his eyes met hers—the woman he had always only stolen glances at—he felt his heart swell so much it seemed as if it would break through his ribs.

What will she say? Will she ask if the quiz is in short answer format? Or multiple choice? Maybe she’ll wonder if it’s a weekly quiz?

It didn’t matter what she asked. All that mattered was that she would speak to him.

“You…”

His heart brimmed with anticipation, completely focused on the red lips that slowly began to part.

“Do you… know me?”

Like the crescent moon hanging in midwinter, Tilia’s lips curled at the corner as she responded, her voice sharp with irritation.