A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 90

The man stood at the far end of the north wing hall, where it connected to the central courtyard.

It was a great distance, yet Tilia recognized him at once. No—she would have known even from his silhouette alone.

Because the figure of Ilex Davenport was something she had been unable to forget, no matter how hard she tried for the past three years.

The white sunlight spilling through the arched colonnade stopped around his waist. Thanks to that, Tilia could easily tell that his body was still in perfect proportion, and that his blond hair remained dazzlingly brilliant.

But not everything was as it had been.

His ascetic beauty remained, but she could see that his build had grown a little compared to three years ago. His jawline was sharper, and the eyes set with bluish-gray gemstones had deepened noticeably.

Everything was exactly as she had imagined he would look three years later. In fact, he seemed even more handsome than she had dared to picture.

As always, Tilia did not stop walking toward her beautiful first love. You’re still wonderful. A soft smile naturally spread across her lips.

She sometimes saw visions of him like this. On dark nights beneath the streetlamps. Beyond the window opened for some fresh air.

But never before had he appeared so clearly in the daylight, fully cast in light instead of shadow.

Even so, Tilia didn’t doubt for a second that this was a vision conjured by her longing.

That was why she didn’t stop walking toward him. Why she wasn’t surprised. Why she didn’t wipe the smile from her face.

Because she knew that if she got too close, he would surely vanish.

She only realized something was wrong when she noticed how intensely he was staring at her—far too vividly.

Have I ever gotten this close to a vision before? Has he ever felt so real?

Just as her expression began to shift at the clarity of his figure—one that only became more defined the closer she got—the figure that had stood still like a statue took a step forward.

The shadow moved. His long legs strode toward her without a hint of hesitation.

Ilex’s face was tense, as if he were furious. No—it wasn’t anger. It wasn’t nervousness. His face was contorted as if he were barely restraining something that was boiling up inside.

Only then did Tilia realize where the breeze that had been playing with her hem all this time had come from.

The wind was blowing from the east, where he stood.

Carrying a refreshing scent. A familiar scent. It blew from him to her.

The air that carried his scent brushed her cheek and entered her nose. It surged through her nasal passages and lungs, rushing straight to her heart. As if her body were a balloon, her entire being filled with the air of her first love.

Unable to walk or think, frozen in place, she stood dumbly as he—no illusion, no shadow—crossed the time they had spent apart and ran to her.

And finally, Ilex Davenport stood before her.

The moment their eyes met, time rewound on its own. To a night three years ago when only the two of them had existed on that path. To the cold air where they had exchanged broken words in a foreign tongue.

In disbelief, Tilia stood frozen as a cool-gloved hand brushed her cheek. She could see the neat fan of his eyelashes up close, each one clearly distinct.

His heat, his scent—everything from his body was vivid enough to touch.

“……!”

Only then did Tilia realize this was no dream. That the person about to press his lips to hers was real.

“W-wait…!”

Just before their lips met, her urgent whisper made him stop just in time.

He tilted his head slightly to avoid bumping their noses, and their eyes locked.

In his bluish-gray eyes, there was only her. Seeing herself engraved in his pupils, Tilia felt as if time itself had stopped.

It was probably because she had forgotten how to breathe. Otherwise, there would be no way to explain the way her heart pounded like it was begging for oxygen, or how her face flushed red enough to burst.

The eye contact stretched on endlessly. As her neck began to ache from the tension, Ilex slowly brushed her cheek with his gloved hand, as if gauging something. At last, he let out a faint sigh and stepped back.

Tilia stumbled backward like an animal escaping a trap. As she retreated, Ilex’s toes twitched as if he wanted to follow, but instead, he clasped his hands behind his back and turned his head briefly to look out over the garden.

Where had that fierce wind gone to rest? The heat that had pooled between them showed no signs of leaving.

Tilia, who had been staring blankly at the ground for quite some time, finally lifted her head after what wasn’t a short while.

Ilex Davenport, still looking unreal, was gazing at the garden. But it was easy to see that the vibrant flowers held no place in his eyes.

“…What brings you here?”

Ha. Tilia instantly wanted to bite her tongue after those words left her mouth.

‘What brings you here?’ Not even a ‘How have you been?’ or ‘Why did you try to kiss me just now?’ Her first words were to ask why he was here.

“Because of my mother.”

Unbothered, Ilex turned his head slowly to meet Tilia’s gaze and answered in a voice deeper than it had been three years ago.

“There’s a family matter to discuss.”

Ah. Only then did she recall the misfortunes of the Davenport family that had filled not only Arkansis newsletters but also Ontaroa newspapers half a year ago.

After the carriage carrying the Duke and his heir had fallen off a cliff, the Duchess of Davenport had taken temporary refuge with her natal family.

I’d forgotten. Even after being ostracized for mimicking the royal Ontaroan accent, I had forgotten that Ilex’s mother was a princess of Ontaroa.

While Tilia, who never imagined she would encounter Ilex Davenport here, was hesitating over whether or not to offer belated condolences, Ilex simply stared at her.

Unlike earlier, when he looked at the flowers meaninglessly, his bluish-gray eyes now burned with intensity. His gaze, as if fixing her into a frame to be taken home and painted, was almost obsessive.

“I heard the news. It’s late, but I’m sure he went to a better place…”

Just as Tilia carefully selected her words and raised her eyes, her gaze met his.

Ilex made no effort to hide the fact that he had been watching her. Rather, now that she had raised her head, he stared even harder, as if licking her eyes with his own.

That unrestrained gaze filled Tilia’s face with fluster. For the first time, her appearance—something she had never cared about in front of a man—suddenly mattered.

Of all days, why today? She had run out without even brushing her hair, and the stockings she had hastily put on had a slight run.

If I had known we’d meet—no, I never could have guessed, but at least if I’d been dressed like usual…

With a shame she’d never known three years ago, one of her worst habits emerged.

Ilex’s eyes dropped to her lips, which she was biting hard. As he watched her pale skin crushed between white teeth, his Adam’s apple bobbed once again.

“Well, it was nice seeing you. I hope things work out well.”

Having finally collected herself, Tilia spoke with a deliberately composed voice. At her words, Ilex’s face, which had been flushed with heat as he studied hers, went cold.

But just as she hadn’t seen him swallow, Ilex, too, missed the way she brushed past him.

‘Why today, of all days.’

That thought filled Tilia’s mind as she hurried toward the Royal Administrative Office.

If only it had been yesterday. Or if only it hadn’t been the day she stupidly showed up late. Or at the very least, if only she weren’t currently delivering official documents.

Even knowing it was pointless, her mind kept retracing the what-ifs.

If there hadn’t been a deadline to submit the files. If the section chief, who would scold her the moment she returned, weren’t waiting. Then maybe—maybe she could have said one more thing to Ilex. Asked if he had time, if they could share a meal.

But no matter how much she speculated, she found no clear answer. She didn’t have the confidence.

The confidence to ask a man who now belonged to another woman for a moment of his time. To shamelessly ask, like she once could, back when she had known nothing.

…But now he has a fiancée, so why did he try to kiss me?

Amid the swirl of tangled thoughts, that petty irritation suddenly flared up, and Tilia frowned sharply.

That was when she heard it—a heavy footstep behind her.

The moment she realized Ilex Davenport was following her, the weight of his gaze hit her like a wave.

She could be certain—he was watching her.

With the same eyes that had looked at her like he might devour her just moments ago, he was tracing her back.