A Butterfly Through the Mist - Side Story 1

The Dream You Dream of Me (1)

Tilia Ambrose hates me.

After a long period of wandering, Ilex Davenport—now in his second year at the Royal Arkansis Academy—had finally come to accept that statement with quiet resignation. He lifted his gaze with an expression feigning indifference.

In the basement level of the student union building, at the edge of the student cafeteria where food that wasn’t terrible yet never quite good was stacked in tiers, stood a large mirror. It had been installed so students could check their appearance before exiting the building. Ilex had deliberately chosen a seat with a clear view of the mirror, and his bluish-gray eyes now slowly slid toward the corner of the reflective surface.

There, near the clean edge of the mirror, was the face of the girl who hated him.

Spoon idly lingering over his tray, Ilex stole glances at the portion of the mirror where Tilia Ambrose’s face was reflected.

What a stalker I’ve become. He thought to himself, yet couldn’t tear his gaze away. Today again, Tilia had come to the cafeteria with Judy Wells. She didn’t seem to have much appetite—her hand holding the utensils looked entirely unmotivated.

Then it happened. While carelessly poking vegetables into her mouth with a fork, she suddenly shoved something discreetly to the edge of her tray. Ilex, catching sight of it, lowered his head and smirked.

He didn’t even need to look. He knew exactly what she had flicked off the fork as if removing gum from the bottom of her shoe.

Typical. Still such a child.

Watching Tilia, who consistently hated asparagus, Ilex impulsively shoved the same green vegetable off his own tray.

Tilia Ambrose always took about the same amount of time to finish her meal. Knowing this well, Ilex stood up just as about a third of her food remained on her tray. Pulling his robe’s hood over his head to remain unnoticed, he left the cafeteria first.

A breeze brushed his cheek, making the dark robe he wore feel natural. With dusk falling and darkness expanding across the campus, Ilex crossed the grounds without distraction.

Past the inoperative fountain, past the deserted grand sports field, up a steep staircase—he finally arrived at the central library. Without hesitation, he headed to the second floor of the reference room where academic journals were kept and settled into a seat by the stairs.

With most regular exams now over, the library was so empty it felt desolate. The only people visible in the vast space were two dozing librarians and a few girls seated near a pillar next to his spot.

Despite entering the warm interior, Ilex didn’t remove his robe. Instead, he quietly gazed at the library’s entrance, waiting.

The Royal Academy’s central library, built with great care by its founder, was as magnificent inside as it was outside.

The most noteworthy area was this very reference room. True to its reputation as having the most extensive collection of books on the continent, the library was centered around a large domed hall, rising up to the third floor, with towering stacks packed full of volumes.

Though Ilex felt little attachment to the academy itself, he did like this library. Because it was the best place…

It was at that moment. The person he’d been waiting for appeared beyond the reference room entrance.

The winter wind must’ve clawed at her during the walk from the cafeteria—Tilia’s nose and ears were red. Ilex, of course, couldn’t approach to warm her cheeks with his hands or even speak to her. So instead, he rubbed his own hands together and scanned her path with his eyes.

As expected. Today again, Tilia sat at the last seat of the long table positioned at the very back of the circular hall, nestled between rows of bookshelves. Perfectly visible from the seat where Ilex sat on the second floor.

Because this spot was the best place to observe Tilia.

Only then did Ilex finally remove his stifling hood and adjust his posture. Silently arranging his robe, he kept his gaze fixed on her.

This seat, located right in front of the staircase, allowed a perfect view of the lower level from the second floor. Yet from below, it remained hidden in a blind spot—almost impossible to spot from the first floor. A perfect hiding place.

Was this how researchers felt when observing wild animals? Ilex, now promoting himself from stalker to researcher, rested his chin on his hand and continued to study Tilia.

The book she was reading had the same cover as yesterday. Royal Academy’s Selection of 100 Classics in Literature.

…Was the classical poetry exam not over yet?

He thought hard about it, but no. Tilia had finished all her exams days ago, the last being a liberal arts class replaced by a report.

Then why?

He posed the question, but he already knew the answer.

She just liked that stuff. That dusty old classic literature.

Tilia Ambrose was difficult to understand in many ways, but the most incomprehensible was her area of interest.

Why on earth? What was so entertaining about predictable stories written by people long dead?

Ilex didn’t do poorly in the subject she so eagerly read in her free time, but he wasn’t great at it either. He scraped into the upper ranks with some strategic effort. It also happened to be the subject where he got his lowest scores: rhetoric.

If it was within the realm of language, Ilex preferred grammar or logic over literature. Those had definite answers and structure. Literature, on the other hand, was just embellished and twisted phrasing.

What’s supposed to be fun about that?

Now Ilex was even twisting his body, glaring grumpily at Tilia.

Tilia’s face as she read an old library book gleamed like a freshly polished apple. Even if all the lights in the library were switched off, her desk would still appear illuminated.

That’s how brightly Tilia’s green eyes shone with genuine academic passion.

What on earth is so enjoyable about that…?

Even as he thought this, Ilex’s sulky lips began to soften, like a waterlogged piece of newspaper.

Why is watching her study so enjoyable? If someone were to charge him an admission fee just to watch this, he’d gladly pay—empty his pockets, even drain his family’s wealth to afford it.

That’s how much he liked it. No matter how many times he looked, he never got bored. Rather, the more he looked, the more he wanted to keep looking.

He was nothing to her, and yet Ilex felt his heart swell with pride. Without even realizing it, a smile crept across his lips.

At that moment, Tilia suddenly turned her head in his direction.

In the sparsely populated library, silence reigned. Even the sound of pages turning in the distance felt like it would carry.

Vivid green eyes met pale bluish-gray ones, laced with embarrassment.

As if he’d encountered a monster that turned people to stone with a glance, Ilex froze. It felt like his heart had swelled so much it was pressing against his ribs. He was gripped by the illusion that if he opened his mouth, the oversized heart within would spill out its raw, red insides.

He stayed like that, frozen, elbow on the desk, chin propped on hand.

Hello.

Tilia Ambrose mouthed the word silently.

Her small lips moved without sound.

‘Hello,’ she said.

His swollen heart skipped a beat. And at the same time, so did his thoughts.

It felt like an eternity before Ilex, who had been holding his breath as he stared at Tilia, began to think again.

Greet her. Greet her back. It must be awkward for her. She was brave enough to take the first step.

Gulp. Swallowing dryly, he raised a sweat-dampened hand, trying his best to act unfazed as he prepared to wave—

“Hi, Tilia.”

—a small voice came from beyond the pillar on the second floor, where Ilex sat.

And once again, he was slow to grasp the situation.

Even as the voice rang out, Ilex waved at Tilia, thinking she was speaking to him. But then she turned to face the pillar, smiled, and dipped her head. Only then did he realize that her greeting hadn’t been for him, but for a female student seated behind the pillar.

Ah.

His seat was in a blind spot—completely out of view from where Tilia was. No one could greet someone they couldn’t see.

Not that it mattered. Tilia Ambrose would never have greeted him anyway.

At the same moment he accepted that obvious truth, the heart that had swelled so much it nearly leapt from his chest deflated like a balloon pricked by a pin.

And it wasn’t just his heart that shriveled.

Ilex pulled out the robe he had carefully folded and draped it over himself once again.

He just wanted to disappear from the world.