A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 98

How laughable.

Tilia looked down at her father with a sneer as he began making strange noises, drooling uncontrollably and stammering, “Eh, eh.”

Even in this pitiful state, those eyes still saw her as a piece of meat to be sold off. As property to enrich and sustain his life.

His thoughts, his greed, were so plainly visible that Tilia couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

Meanwhile, Bradley continued to strain toward her, desperate to command something.

“Is there something you want to say, Father?”

The baron shouted something in desperation, but to Tilia’s ears, it sounded no different from the squealing of a pig.

Suddenly, she remembered the day as a child when she had been so terrified of him that she wet herself.

Back when she was so small she couldn’t even reach his waist, his flying kicks and the booming yells that left her ears ringing had been more terrifying than a hammer of hell.

If only I had known back then. Tilia exhaled with a faint bitterness.

He was nothing more than a scarecrow who would collapse in just three years. There was never any need to fear him. No more reason than to worry about drowning in a desert.

“Eh, eh, eh…!”

The sight before her eyes was so pathetic that even her desire for revenge faded away. Tilia looked down at her father, screaming wildly, with a blank expression and spoke indifferently.

“Do you remember, Father? When I was little, you used to hit me a lot.”

“…Ehk! Eh!”

“But you know what?”

Tilia whispered quietly to the man who now flailed like a dying fish.

“Your punches back then? They didn’t hurt one bit.”

Then she raised her hand and flicked Bradley’s forehead—just hard enough to make a sharp sound.

“Y-you…!”

Bradley Ambrose’s dilated pupils widened further. Realizing what had just happened, he started thrashing about in a near seizure.

“My, my.”

Feigning surprise at the grotesque display, Tilia covered her faintly lifted lip with her hand and called for a nurse.

“Ugh, here he goes again.”

The nurse, who arrived sluggishly, swore openly even in front of the patient’s guardian as she pressed Bradley’s body down.

“Eh, eh! Ehhhh—!”

“Hold still, your lordship. You really want to end up in the morgue today?”

To the sound of her father’s anguished screams and the nurse’s exasperated curses, Tilia walked out of the hospital room with a calm face.

She would never come back to this ward again. She had seen with her own eyes that her father was truly beyond recovery. She had confirmed that it no longer mattered if she remained in Arkansis.

“Hello. I’m here to settle the outstanding hospital bills.”

Still, regardless of the fact that her father was now a powerless ghost who could no longer interfere with her, Tilia had to fulfill this final obligation.

It wasn’t a debt to him, but a duty imposed by society. She absolutely could not allow an unpaid hospital bill to jeopardize her promotion.

“The patient’s name is Bradley Ambrose. Could you check, please?”

Unlike the nurses and caregivers, the billing staff’s demeanor wasn’t so bad. One clerk, after confirming the name with a reasonably polite tone, tilted her head in confusion.

“Bradley Ambrose, you said…? There’s no outstanding balance. It’s paid in full.”

“Paid in full?”

Tilia frowned slightly, her expression saying that couldn’t be right.

“Could you double-check? Bradley Ambrose in Ward A, Room 403. Here’s how it’s spelled.”

She even wrote the name out on a slip of paper, just to be sure, but the answer was the same.

“Yes, it’s definitely Bradley Ambrose in A403. There’s never been a missed payment—he’s a consistently punctual payer.”

Impossible. Despite the firm answer, Tilia looked at the staff with clear skepticism.

Her father’s pension, taken out at the minimum rate, must have run out by last year. If it had been enough to cover hospital fees, George Ambrose wouldn’t have left it behind…

“Would you mind checking this for me?”

As Tilia stood there clearly suspecting a mistake, the staff, making an effort to be helpful, brought up the payment record.

Seeing that the full amount had indeed been paid, Tilia asked in a slightly uneasy voice, “Then… is it possible to know who made the payment?”

“Well, unless it was a legal guardian, we usually wouldn’t know… Oh, wait. Looks like the payment was made by check, so we might be able to identify the payer. Let me see… So, the person who covered the hospital bill was…”

***

“Where to, miss?”

Tilia had taken a hired carriage, not a stagecoach, from the hospital entrance. At the coachman’s question, she couldn’t answer right away and just stared into space.

If possible, she would’ve preferred the cheaper stagecoach. But her destination lay in a high-end district where most stagecoaches wouldn’t drop passengers off.

“Miss?”

The coachman asked again, sounding puzzled. Even then, Tilia didn’t answer, only clutched her interlocked hands more tightly.

“Let me see… So, the person who covered the hospital bill was…”

The soft voice of the billing clerk from earlier echoed in her ears once more.

“Ah, it was the Duke of Davenport. Now that I see it, I remember. The duke’s aide came by to pay every month. He was quite handsome. Guess you’re not acquainted?”

“Miss, seriously!”

As the voice of the woman laced with crude curiosity resurfaced, the coachman’s gruff tone finally broke into her thoughts.

“You look like a lovely young lady who’s just heard something bad at the hospital.”

Startled like waking from a dream, she looked up. Seeing her pale face, the coachman’s voice softened slightly.

“Still, if you’ve climbed into the carriage, you need to say where you’re headed. Where to, miss?”

“I’m sorry. Please take me to the Duke of Davenport’s estate.”

“Duke of Davenport’s? You a maid there or something?”

Tilia ignored the coachman’s attempt at small talk and squeezed her clasped hands tighter.

Through the window of the cheap, bumpy hired carriage, the city passed by.

Her homeland, returned to after so long, wasn’t much different from the past.

Noble ladies and gentlemen dressed to the nines. The destitute beggars hidden behind them. Those who could afford to view the world with kindness, and those who had to bear malice just to survive.

As she watched the street scenes—stamped out as if by the same mold—Tilia slowly steadied her breath.

She had returned to Arkansis. But she had not returned to the past.

The world was the same, but her heart had changed.

Recalling the regrets she had turned over in her mind again and again over the past three years, Tilia’s eyes gleamed with determination.

Now she understood her own feelings. She knew what she needed to do to avoid regret.

Even if everything else stayed the same, her resolve was different. And because of that, the outcome would be different.

With firm resolve, her cheeks slightly flushed, Tilia watched the scenery rush past.

***

“Your Grace, we’ve received word that Miss Tilia Ambrose has arrived at the main residence.”

Ilex heard this from Kevin while handling paperwork in the office of the Essentine estate.

After deciding to have Tilia stay in the annex, most of his belongings had been moved there. Naturally, the documents and items he needed for work were also relocated to the annex office, making it a more comfortable workspace than the main residence.

Without looking at the excited Kevin, Ilex asked in a flat voice, “She went to the main house?”

“Yes, a butler from the main residence came and reported that Miss Ambrose is currently waiting in the drawing room for Your Grace.”

So she really did go to the baron’s hospital room—and ended up confirming the payment records. Well, that’s why I had Kevin deliver the checks there.

“The butler hasn’t left yet. Should we tell Miss Ambrose that you’re in the annex and ask her to wait a little longer?”

“No need.”

Ilex responded dryly to Kevin’s quick suggestion, picking up his pen again to sign the document he had been reviewing.

“She can wait. No need to make a fuss.”

“Your Grace, that’s not the signature field.”

At the polite correction, Ilex set the pen down and looked at him in silence.

“I know.”

“……”

You didn’t, did you.