A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 96

Damn Norbert Karel.

Tilia ground her teeth as she stared at the seat beside her, untouched for days and now gathering dust.

He never gives anyone a moment’s peace to think.

If he was going to quit, he should’ve at least handed in a resignation letter. Just because his grandfather’s the Foreign Minister—what, does that make him above everything? What kind of decent adult quits a job like this…?

Norbert Karel, who hadn’t shown his face for a week, was eventually confirmed to be absent without leave.

Their supervisor, who seemed ready to overlook it for a few days, finally reported him to the higher-ups after more than a week, and the response came swiftly—clear out his desk.

That part was fine. It was actually a relief not to see that annoying face anymore.

Until the work of a colleague dismissed for negligence became her problem.

“Clerk Ambrose! You still haven’t found the file requested by the Fünskille Office?”

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t part of my original assignments, so I’m having a hard time figuring out where it is…”

“I said to check everywhere it could be! The office said the deadline’s today—how long are you going to drag your feet?!”

Yes, yes. Swallowing curses, Tilia put down the document her boss had just yelled was the highest priority and started rummaging through Norbert’s desk.

In cases where someone’s terminated on short notice, it usually takes about three months to find a replacement. If the work is really urgent, someone might be temporarily assigned within a month—maybe even a week—but there was no way their supervisor would go through that trouble for her.

Maybe I really should just leave for Arkansis.

Just the thought of three months of nonstop chaos made her wince, and right on cue, a certain face popped into her mind.

At the same time, Tilia’s hand froze. Despite the heavy workload, the daydreams that had kept her up these past nights started creeping in again.

Flutter. Her lashes trembled faintly without her realizing.

If I go to Arkansis, then…

“Clerk Ambrose!”

“I’m looking.”

But this daydream didn’t last as long as the ones from her sleepless nights. Snapped back to reality by her supervisor’s shout, Tilia replied in an unnervingly calm tone and resumed rummaging through Norbert Karel’s desk.

But…

‘Where the hell is it?’

His desk was full of nothing but junk. The file her boss had yelled about was nowhere in sight.

‘Did this jerk even do any work at all?’

Her irritation peaking, Tilia crumpled a scrap of paper filled with meaningless doodles and muttered under her breath.

“It’s really not in there?”

It must’ve been urgent after all. Alma Martin herself came over to the desk she was searching, her face tense.

“That document has to be submitted by three. Keep looking. You’re sure it’s not there?”

“I’ve checked several times already. It really doesn’t seem to be here. Are you absolutely sure Clerk Karel had it?”

“Of course! What, are you doubting me now?”

“No, I’m sorry, ma’am. I just thought I should check with you before going through his cabinet. Since he left without notice, his cabinet seems to be locked—would it be okay to break it open to find the file?”

“Do whatever you want! He left without permission—he can try suing if he wants, but it’d only hurt him!”

The section chief, who had once furiously demanded files from the wrong person, snapped again and stormed off.

Tilia sighed deeply and headed to the cabinets at the back of the office.

Breaking open the cabinet labeled with his name wasn’t difficult. She just had to call security and ask them to cut the lock with the right tools.

“Wow, he really put a thick lock on it. Must’ve been hiding something big if he bailed like that.”

The guard who had tried a few jokes and failed left with a sulky look, and Tilia peered into the cabinet with an expressionless face.

Did a bomb go off in here?

She sighed again, staring into the mess of mixed-up junk like a thief had ransacked it. Then she reached in and began pulling things out, one by one.

Not this file. Not this folder. Definitely not this foreigner’s ID copy with gum stuck to it, or the bizarre document filled top to bottom with Arkansis script.

Her face grew more disgusted the deeper she dug into the trash heap, until finally she spotted a small box wedged in the very back of the cabinet and set it down on the floor.

Looks like a personal item. No need to go through it, right?

But she had already emptied the whole cabinet, and the file still hadn’t turned up.

With no other choice, Tilia opened the box.

She didn’t even want to know what might be inside. With an exhausted face, Tilia opened the lid of the rather large box and gave its contents a cursory glance.

‘…What is this?’

But the moment she recognized what was inside, the green eyes dulled by routine widened. As she confirmed the familiar handwriting, Tilia’s gaze began to tremble.

“Clerk Ambrose?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m looking now.”

Tilia hastily responded to the section chief’s voice from across the room as she clutched a letter from the box with trembling hands and hurriedly shut the lid.

“No need to keep looking for that file. Turns out Clerk Gardner had it. Come over here and get started on the task I assigned earlier.”

Unlike the harsh tone from an hour ago, the section chief now issued orders in a bored voice.

“…Yes, ma’am.”

But Tilia, too drained to even feel irritation, simply clutched the box she had found in Norbert Karel’s cabinet and stood up.

***

The office at lunchtime, emptied like the ebbing tide, was quiet.

Claiming she felt unwell, Tilia had skipped lunch and sat blankly staring at the now open box.

She had checked it several times—there was no more room for denial.

Inside were letters she thought had been sent to Arkansis.

The unmistakable stiff handwriting, the carefully written addresses, and the contents inside—all of it was her own.

Why on earth are these in Norbert Karel’s cabinet?

Without realizing, Tilia pulled out one of her own letters again from the box to confirm it, biting her lip.

Stamped with a clear postmark over the date printed on the stamp, the letters weren’t just ones she had sent to Ilex Davenport. Among them were also the ones she had sent to her friend Judy Wells, from whom she had also received no reply and eventually given up writing to.

‘I thought both of them… simply grew disgusted with me and chose not to reply.’

After settling in Ontaroa, there were only two people Tilia had written letters to.

Ilex Davenport, and Judy Wells. The man and woman who had each left a major mark on her life.

Embarrassingly, it was only quite some time after she had started writing to Ilex that she began sending letters to Judy’s home address.

To make excuses—because her mind was all over the place. But truthfully, she had wanted to write only after securing her job as a consular officer.

Judy had always looked at her like she was someone amazing. Tilia had wanted to appear before her not as someone who failed the exam, but as someone who passed—standing proud. That’s why. That was all it was.

But maybe to Judy, it had just sounded like an excuse.

Of course it would. She understood. Who wouldn’t be hurt by a friend who said nothing for four years at the academy, then suddenly left for Ontaroa without a word?

So when she received no reply, Tilia had been disappointed but understood. She tried sending more letters, ones filled with apologies, but when those too went unanswered, she stopped writing long letters and only sent short notes on birthdays.

Back then, she had acted like it was nothing, but truthfully, it left her empty. Lonely.

And now, every single letter she had written to explain why she had to leave so abruptly—all of them were there.

Not a single one missing. Every letter she had sent from Ontaroa was in that small box.

Heh. A faint, stunned laugh escaped her.

Then who had I been writing to all this time? What was I waiting for, anxiously hoping for replies that would never come?

And more than anything… why hadn’t those two, who may have been waiting for her letters just as much, received the feelings she had sent?

Why? Who? For what reason? As she finally pieced the situation together, her head began to burn.

Pull yourself together, Tilia Ambrose.

But she shoved her emotions aside and forced herself to think rationally.

Think. Who would benefit from doing this to me?

Her sharp green eyes turned toward Norbert Karel’s desk, still strewn with papers.

The answer was likely with Norbert Karel, who had vanished without a trace.

With eyes turned cold, Tilia closed them once, opened them again, and rose to head back toward his desk.