A Butterfly Through the Mist - Side Story 10

The place she hurried toward was the Ministry of Land.

“Ah, you need an access permit to enter the records room.”

As Tilia stood before the locked archive with a perplexed expression, a man who appeared to be a staff member approached and spoke to her.

“What’s your business here?”

“There was a request from the Supreme Court. Apparently, an immigrant who applied for asylum in Arkansis set up a commercial facility on land zoned for neighborhood living facilities without applying for a zoning change. It seems there’s a dispute between the plaintiff and the defendant.”

“Ah… Are you from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs?”

“Yes.”

When Tilia presented her ID bearing the seal of the Foreign Affairs Director, the staff member hesitated for a moment.

“If the Supreme Court requested it, we’ll probably get the official directive soon too, so…”

But his hesitation was brief. Making a quick decision, the Ministry of Land employee willingly took the key and walked over to her.

“There’s no need for you to go back and forth. I’ll just open it for you. But if an audit comes up, please say I followed proper procedures.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“The zoning change records should be in the second-to-last shelf in the back. Just head straight in.”

Despite his bored-looking face, the employee helpfully gave her the location of the materials and left after unlocking the door.

As soon as the door closed, the smile vanished from Tilia’s face. She turned expressionless and headed in the direction he had indicated.

The reason she had come to the records room of the Ministry of Land, even going as far as lying about a Supreme Court request, was simple.

Because Emily Burgess had used the word “secret.” That word meant there would be no other place to find proof besides the official administrative records that were required by law.

She had considered digging through Ilex’s office again, as she had done before, but quickly dismissed it. After being caught once, he was unlikely to leave information as carelessly as before.

With that reasoning, Tilia had come to the Ministry of Land and soon found the shelf containing the land use change applications. As her green eyes scanned from the most recent dates downward, she finally spotted the Duke’s name.

Her hand, which quietly pulled out the thick file, trembled slightly despite her composed movements.

Before reading the application bearing the Duke’s seal, she took a deep breath without realizing it and then resolutely scanned its contents.

But the deep breath meant to steady herself scattered uselessly and landed on the surface of the document.

***

Rustle. Tilia, lost in thought, returned to reality at the sound coming from her hand.

Looking down, she saw the paper crumpled messily in her grasp.

Resignation letter. The words she had written boldly overlapped with those she had seen in the records room a week earlier.

Zoning Change Details

Original: Commercial Facilities Zone

Changed: Educational and Welfare Facilities Zone

The land owned by the Duke of Davenport, located very near the Arkansis Royal Academy grounds, had indeed been reclassified to the Educational and Welfare Facilities Zone.

If it had been a change from a lower classification like residential to a higher one like industrial, that would’ve made sense—but the reverse was almost unheard of.

Unless, as Emily Burgess had said, he had made a secret donation.

Could he have made a deal to construct an academy building in exchange for my admission?

Tilia’s eyes drifted over the hopelessly crumpled resignation letter. After wandering for a while, her gaze floated upward, unfocused, and stared off into the distance.

Her blurred pupils came to rest in a shadowed corner of the office. In that dim spot was a colleague she had once projected herself onto.

Susan Boyd, after they had grown closer, had confessed that she too was a graduate of the Royal Academy, and that she had worked there as a teaching assistant to cover her living expenses.

Admitting that she had kept an eye on Tilia’s fierce studying even back then, Susan had jumped up in joy the moment Tilia told her she’d been accepted to graduate school.

“I knew you’d make it, Tilia. I really did!”

Would Susan, who had been so happy as if it were her own success, ever find out? That Tilia’s admission to graduate school wasn’t due to her efforts—but thanks to Ilex’s donation?

The sense of defeat she thought she’d forgotten, thought had withered away, squirmed back to life from the depths of her chest and cast a shadow over her heart.

Of all days, she had to be wearing the blue jacket Ilex had helped her into on her very first day at work.

The day she stepped into this building for the first time, filled with tension, she couldn’t forget how everyone’s gaze had poured onto her.

The warm, welcoming glances. The greetings that brimmed with the desire to befriend her.

It was a kindness she had never once received during all her years working in Ontaroa, no matter how hard she tried.

How wretched it is to feel defeat from someone you love. Even knowing him, Tilia couldn’t discard the feeling that resembled both loss and emptiness.

She knew. She knew he loved her. And she knew that it must have been under the name of that love that he had done such a thing.

Just like everything else he had done for her in the past.

The problem was herself. How much easier it would be if she were someone who could accept and forgive everything with love alone.

But unfortunately, Tilia wasn’t that kind of person, and she couldn’t manage to suppress the emotion that kept surging up inside her.

That she had built the tower on her own strength. That she had achieved something through her own effort. To some, it might seem a trivial accomplishment, but to Tilia, it was the result of a fierce struggle for survival.

Yet a stone that formed the foundation of the tower she had built from her pride wasn’t her own. It wasn’t a small pebble—it was the cornerstone, and it belonged to someone else.

Feeling as though that cornerstone had been pulled out at once and her sense of self had collapsed, Tilia lowered her gaze in exhaustion.

At some point, the paper in her hand had become so crumpled it was no longer recognizable.

Tilia stared blankly at it, then impulsively tore it apart and threw it into the trash.

Winter sunlight fell on the resignation letter she had written so carefully, now lying among discarded things.

That sunlight, too, came from a wide, pleasant window—something she had never once had while bearing the name Ambrose.

***

The lukewarm relationship continued until snowflakes bloomed on barren branches.

While postponing the future, Tilia didn’t tell Ilex what she had discovered. More precisely, she didn’t know how to bring it up.

How was she supposed to ask? Ask why he donated? Ask why he offered to donate a building for her admission?

If Ilex answered that it was all for her—what then was she supposed to say in response?

It didn’t feel like hearing an answer would solve anything, so she chose not to ask.

That didn’t mean she was angry or disappointed in him.

She just needed time to think. Time to accept that she was a person who existed in dependence upon him.

Just accept it. It’s not even that hard. Just live comfortably.

She tried to think so complacently, but as dusk fell and darkness seeped in, doubts always returned.

Did my efforts even matter?

When I rushed into the office, giddy like a child, with the acceptance letter hidden behind my back—what did Ilex, who must have already known I’d been accepted, really feel when he praised me?

Thoughts submerged in the twilight of night always ended in helpless conclusions.

I shouldn’t have tried so hard. Shouldn’t have struggled so desperately. Ilex would’ve solved everything anyway.

Tilia turned her back on the past, which she had fought through so breathlessly, and fell asleep.

But those memories with their sharp edges always resurfaced in her dreams, storming through her and leaving wounds on her heart.

So she neither rewrote her resignation letter nor resignedly enrolled in graduate school. She merely let time slip by powerlessly.

And then, unexpected news arrived at Davenport Mansion.

***

How unexpected.

That was the first thought Tilia had upon hearing of the death of her biological brother, George Ambrose.

She had thought their father would die first—how unexpected.

Tilia blankly stared at the letter from the rehabilitation facility, then shrugged.

Well, to be fair, her father was notoriously hard to kill. And her brother had been in an extreme state of substance addiction.

Her blood relative, who had wandered from gambling den to gambling den and finally reached for the one thing he should never have touched, passed away less than five years after entering the royal rehabilitation facility. Thinking of how high-risk addicts typically died within three years, he had actually lasted quite a while.

“You don’t need to worry about the funeral.”

Before she left work, Ilex, who had heard the news first, spoke in a somewhat stiff voice.

“The attendants who handled the late duke’s funeral are still around. They’ll take care of everything and report back. You just have to approve it.”

Tilia looked at Ilex curiously, as if surprised by how he seemed to be subtly checking her expression as he spoke.