A Butterfly Through the Mist - Side Story 13

On a night when the sun had yielded its place to another star, a man stood in the softly lit office, unmoving with a teacup in hand as lamplight sliced through the darkness.

Ilex, his eyes half-lowered, had his attention fixed solely on the floor. More precisely, on the woman beneath the floorboards, searching for something in the storage room.

Did she see it?

He absentmindedly turned the teacup he’d been holding for dozens of minutes, trying to discern any sounds from below.

I really hope she saw it this time…

It had already been a week since he had begun subtly placing his observation log within Tilia’s line of sight.

Hoping she would find it unintentionally, Ilex had left notebooks scattered by the wardrobe, in the study, and around the bed. But his wife, oblivious beyond belief, somehow managed to avoid every single spot as if dodging traps.

But this time, surely, she would’ve taken the bait. A model student with a fondness for rhetoric wouldn’t just overlook an old textbook of her former major.

She must’ve seen it. Thinking so, Ilex set down the tea he couldn’t bring himself to drink and reached for a cigar.

The deadline for graduate registration was fast approaching. Ilex, who needed to settle things and get Tilia enrolled by the end of the week no matter what, could no longer conceal his impatience.

Under the dim light, a faint hiss sounded as the flame lit up red. Pale smoke drifted and dispersed.

How did she find out? That alone remained an unanswered question.

He had long since destroyed any incriminating documents. He’d silenced not only the newspaper but even the dean. It was a situation that should’ve remained undiscovered.

How in the world had Tilia figured out the Academy donation, conducted in utmost secrecy without even transferring the land title?

Still, it was certain she had found out. Nothing else could have rendered her so utterly despondent.

Did she have a connection in the Ministry of Land? Cigar clenched between his teeth, Ilex scoured his memory, trying to verify the hypothesis that came to him after much thought.

Whatever Tilia might say after seeing those remnants of the past, Ilex was ready to answer. In truth, she would likely be so overwhelmed after reading his relentless love record, she wouldn’t be able to accuse him properly.

His wife was softer-hearted than expected and carried a strange guilt over how she had scorned him during their academy years.

Use that.

With a devilish curl of his lips, the man steeled his resolve.

If she expressed disappointment, he’d bumble through it to provoke her sympathy. Then he’d lay out his prepared excuse.

No, it wasn’t an excuse. It wasn’t a lie—it was the real truth.

As if to soothe his growing anxiety, he muttered quietly. Just then, as he was about to raise the teacup filled with dark liquid—

Knock, knock. Quick footsteps could be heard from beyond the door.

The faint sound of heels hitting the floor echoed from afar. But Ilex immediately recognized it. He knew the noise came from Tilia, from her climbing the stairs to the third floor where his office was.

Like a dog sensing its master’s steps, Ilex quickly realized she was coming to him and sprang into action.

First, he snuffed out the cigar and tossed it out the window. Then, flinging open all the windows, he set about airing out the pungent scent.

Tilia hated it when he smoked. Knowing this well, Ilex went so far as to flap the curtains around in a pitiful attempt to clear the smell.

The once faint footsteps had grown loud enough for anyone to hear.

Oh, the tea. I have to drink it. Now panicked, Ilex rushed away from the window to drink the tea he only sipped once a week like medicine.

But just as he was about to raise the teacup to his lips—

Bang. The door to the office burst open without a knock or warning.

Like a man caught red-handed, Ilex froze, and into his sight came the solemn face of his first love.

“We.”

Holding the teacup midair, Ilex stared at her as Tilia spoke in a quiet voice.

“We need to talk.”

***

The place Tilia chose for their conversation was the Duchess’s private drawing room adjoining the bedroom.

Neither the bedroom nor the conservatory—an unexpected location, and Ilex couldn’t shake his tension. But keeping a composed expression, he looked across at Tilia, seated on the sofa.

Ah. Yet even that feigned calm quickly melted away like wax.

His beautiful wife was gazing out the window. Her profile, soaked in melancholy, was so lovely that Ilex briefly wondered if even the gods had shed tears when sending her down to earth.

This was his problem. He was far, far too weak to visual temptation. He couldn’t entirely blame her for occasionally snapping, “Why do you get aroused just by looking at my face?”

But really—how could he not, when she looked like that?

So transfixed by her face, he forgot everything he’d resolved to say.

That breathtaking profile turned toward him unexpectedly.

Those green eyes, reminiscent of a summer forest, widened in surprise and then narrowed like a waning moon.

Haa. At the sigh that followed, Ilex sensed the moment had come—time to defend himself.

“You—”

But the question that came as he readied his counterargument was:

“Why do you even like me?”

A question far more difficult than he had imagined.

Why—why did he like her? Caught off guard, he was momentarily speechless, like someone asked to solve a great riddle at the edge of life and death.

The answer itself wasn’t complicated. The problem lay in not understanding the intent behind Tilia’s question.

Why ask this out of nowhere? Ilex stalled for time by bringing his teacup to his lips.

When you don’t know the intent, neutral answers are best. Listing all the reasons he loved her might just get him scolded.

“Just because.”

After such fierce calculation, Ilex chose the simplest answer—one that couldn’t be easily challenged.

“I just do.”

It was, to a degree, honest. Behind a multitude of reasons was the truth that no reason was necessary.

Was it the right answer? Tilia stared at him silently for some time.

Was that the wrong answer? As the silence stretched, he grew anxious and was about to amend his reply—

Poof. Tilia let out an even deeper sigh and leaned back into the elegantly curved sofa.

“There’s no such thing as ‘just because.’”

Her murmured voice carried a bitterness he couldn’t comprehend.

“Ilex. You’re kind of… too…”

Staring at the floor, she hesitated, then slowly spoke.

“Too… naive.”

Ah, naive. Me?

Ilex had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

After all the things they’d done together—how could she say that? Knowing some of what he’d done, how could she come to that conclusion?

Though laughing inwardly, he actually quite liked her words. They were proof that his truly naive wife, foolishly, still trusted him.

“Why?”

But his tone came out rough, belying his pleased heart.

“Does it make you uncomfortable, like you’re swindling some innocent man?”

It was a tactic. As expected, Tilia’s eyes narrowed with displeasure.

“No, Tilia.”

To shake a person’s heart, reversal is key. Persuasion needs a dramatic touch. Choosing his crude phrasing on purpose, he leaned forward and whispered, “I’m the reward you earned for your rightful misfortune.”

Of course, it was still an excuse. But Ilex simply wanted to say it—for the sake of his wife, who seemed to be harboring a foolish misunderstanding.

“So don’t let your thoughts spiral…”

A woman burdened with a terribly tragic story. Had it not been for him, even with her talent and tenacity, she might’ve ended up dead in some gutter.

“Just enjoy me.”

Ilex wanted to be the first piece of luck in her misfortune-filled life. The first winning ticket she ever picked after drawing only blanks. He wanted to be her ladder. To bend his back, place his knees to the ground, and become the sturdy steps she could use to climb higher.

“That’s what I want.”

What he said was a pure, unclouded truth.

Her dream had become his dream. Sometimes, he longed for it even more desperately than she did. So much so that he wondered if his own salvation hinged solely on Tilia’s happiness and success.