A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 91

The moment she realized he was following her, her spine straightened instantly.

Her nerves were so on edge she thought her steps might tangle. She could practically feel him noticing her awkward gait, and cold sweat trickled down her back.

Why? Why is he following me? Her steps, which she’d barely managed to keep steady, gave way to spiraling thoughts.

Maybe we’re headed the same way? But the road to the main estate, where his mother—the former princess of Ontaroa—was staying, shouldn’t be this way.

Even as she recklessly spun one thought after another, his footsteps kept echoing just behind her.

The sound was far too close. As if he were walking right at her back.

In that instant, Tilia felt every nerve in her body focus on the part of her he was staring at.

She couldn’t know the exact path of his unseen gaze. All she could do was imagine.

Where exactly was he looking?

Was it the hem of her skirt, swaying with each step? Or her shoulder, where her unbrushed hair had fallen? Or maybe… the faint snag in her stocking near her ankle?

She couldn’t be sure. But one thing she was certain of—he was looking at her.

If he weren’t, there’d be no way to explain this heat she felt so clearly from just a few steps behind.

Why are you following me? What are you doing? Why…?

Like someone being chased through the night by a stranger. Yet strangely exhilarated in a way that overpowered fear, Tilia slowly turned her head.

Their eyes met a beat late.

‘So it was my waist.’

His bluish-gray gaze had been slowly rising to her face. Realizing where it had lingered, Tilia bit her lip without thinking.

‘He was staring at my waist.’

Even though he’d clearly been ogling her, Ilex met her gaze with shameless confidence. Then, unbelievably, he smiled—lightly, brightly.

The moment she saw that easy smile, Tilia’s face flared red.

Why are you smiling?

Even as she felt herself being swept away, Tilia couldn’t bring herself to turn her head back.

His face, seen again after so long, was just too striking to look away from.

It felt as if time had worked magic only on him. How else could he have become even more perfect?

Shedding the faint traces of boyhood, the Duke of Davenport now radiated the undeniable aura of a man. He was dazzling.

The neatly tied white cravat, the perfectly swept platinum-blonde hair—it was all stunningly attractive. No one would ever believe this was the same man who once roamed the academy halls disheveled, vest half on.

Now, he looked every bit the flawless image of a noble duke.

The moment she recognized him, Tilia’s steps subtly faltered.

Only then did it register—he wasn’t just the second son of House Davenport anymore, but its head. Not a fellow academy student, but a duke.

A man completely severed from her past. Just as she’d always feared, he now lived in an entirely different world.

And as the image of a woman in a white dress with radiant red hair standing beside him came to mind, a heavy wave of loss loosened her tongue.

“Why are you follo—”

Tilia’s expression hardened. Just as she began to draw a boundary—

Like a hunter closing in on prey already within reach, Ilex’s gaze slid past her.

It happened in a flash. With a faint furrow of his brow, he reached for her without hesitation.

There was no time to dodge. No time to react.

Tilia was pulled into his arms without a single protest.

Thump, thump. The erratic heartbeat pounding in her ears—whose was it? The heat between their too-close bodies—whose temperature was it?

She couldn’t tell.

All she could feel was the burning heat where his large hand cradled the back of her head.

That palm was the only point of contact. Their bodies didn’t touch. Yet somehow, it felt as if he had taken hold of her entire being.

Her face flushed crimson.

Just as she parted her lips again—

Creeeak. A door opened behind them.

Huh?

Startled, she turned her head and saw a half-open antique door. And beyond it, people staring out at her in confusion.

Blink. Blink. For a moment, the royal administrative staff inside and Tilia outside exchanged bewildered eye contact, the only sound being the flutter of their eyelids.

After they had all blinked at least five times, Tilia finally registered the situation. Like someone whose toe had just been pinched by a crab, she jolted away from his arms in a flustered panic.

A soft snort of laughter came from above. Her face flushed again, but for a different reason than before.

Because she hadn’t looked where she was walking.

At the end of the north wing hall was the Royal Administrative Office. So focused on him, turning to glance back, hesitating as she walked, she hadn’t paid any attention to what was ahead. It was obvious she would have walked straight into the door.

All Ilex had done was shield her head so she wouldn’t bump into it. It hadn’t been to embrace her. It hadn’t been to hold her back from leaving. Just—so she wouldn’t walk into the door.

“W-we’ve been expecting you, Your Grace Duke Davenport.”

But the embarrassment wasn’t over yet. As if he had been waiting for Tilia to move away on her own, the Chief of the Royal Administration stepped forward to greet him.

“We received word from the ducal aide in advance. But why have you come alone, without any attendants…?”

“Let’s go in first.”

“Ah, yes!”

Only after the softly closed door was shut and Ilex walked away toward the Administrative Office’s reception room without hesitation did Tilia realize something.

Ilex Davenport hadn’t reached out to protect her. He hadn’t been following her all that time.

He simply… had business at the Royal Administrative Office.

“Because of my mother.”

Ah. Why had she misunderstood?

Ilex Davenport had never said he came to meet his mother. He had only said he had something to deal with because of her.

“Who is she?”

“No idea. I thought she was a secretary from the ducal house. Guess not?”

Voices of the administrative staff openly gossiping echoed nearby. Clenching her jaw, Tilia forced a calm face as she approached the clerk to submit the documents.

But the thick papers in her arms, crushed at the corners, already betrayed the state of her heart.

***

Worst day ever.

Tilia, wearing an expression worn and frayed, summed up her day as she walked home.

It was the kind of day that couldn’t get any worse.

It wasn’t enough that she’d been late because of a dream about messing around with Ilex Davenport—at the palace, she had run into him looking like a mess.

Back at the consulate, she was harshly scolded for her tardiness. Trying to calm her rattled nerves, she spilled her tea while distracted.

And thanks to Norbert Karel’s sudden disappearance, his report had ended up on her desk.

Worst of all, despite the mountain of work, she hadn’t completed a single form before finally giving up and leaving early.

‘At this rate, tomorrow and the day after… I won’t be able to go home at all.’

Even knowing the punishment that awaited her, Tilia couldn’t stop herself from packing her bag.

She just wanted to get out of that space. Out of the palace, where he lingered. Out of the workplace that held her lovely first love.

Haa…

Thinking of her impulsive escape, she sighed with slumped shoulders.

Her home was on the outskirts of the capital, a long walk even after thirty minutes by stagecoach from the palace.

But even that shabby home had taken effort to secure. If the landlord hadn’t been from her hometown, she would’ve had to ride the coach not for thirty minutes, but an hour and a half.

‘How am I supposed to climb to the fifth floor…’

A cheap home, lower than market value, always came with other reasons. Every time she left or returned, she had to climb the steep five-story staircase.

There was no alternative. If she had wanted a place on the second or third floor, she would’ve had to ride the coach for three and a half hours.

If she hadn’t been stubborn and had just used the money Ilex Davenport had given her, she could’ve found a far more comfortable home. The money he had pressed into her hands, saying it might not be enough, had exceeded her annual salary by years.

But unfortunately, Tilia had already returned all of it by post.

To say she hadn’t regretted it while house hunting would be a lie. But at the time, when she sent it back, she’d been in such emotional turmoil she couldn’t think of the future.

Had she kept it, her self from two years ago would’ve clung to the excuse of needing to repay him… and in the end, would’ve bought that train ticket to Arkansis.

Hoo… She sighed again.

But despite her desperate efforts to erase every trace of him, there was one item she hadn’t been able to return.

Tilia walked on, staring only at the ground, aware of the necklace under her blouse—a sensation so familiar now that she barely noticed it unless she focused.