The Butterfly Swallowed the Fog - 25

The medium, is there anyone who can contact the medium right now?

Bradley frantically overturned drawers in search of a contact, grinding his teeth as he dug through every paper.

The Wells family, the knight house that had produced dazzling knights for generations, could never fall.

It was not simply because he held the rank of Count Wells and captain of the Royal Third Knight Division, nor because his wife, Countess Wells, maintained an extensive network in high society.

At the heart of it all was the gold mine project of Baron Ambrose, which operated under the jurisdiction of the Wells family.

‘Damn it, if only Count Wells would approve the sale and start the mining!’

If he ever caught even a glimpse of the bruise on Tilia’s face, he might form a bad impression of her, and that would spell disaster.

‘What an idiot.’

Bradley’s jaw tightened as he recalled the exorbitant sum required to summon a healer.

He had aimed for a spot where no one would see, but the foolish woman had turned her head to dodge the blow, making it sting more!

After ransacking three drawers, he finally found the viscount’s address linked to the temple and let out a sigh of relief.

But even that was short-lived. His expression hardened as he remembered just how difficult it would be to bend this viscount to his will.

How would he react if he was asked to summon a healer on such short notice?

‘Maybe I should just cover it up with words.’

… No. Bradley shook his head, chasing away the fleeting thought. If he slipped up and someone overheard, it would be fatal. He had pretended to spoil his daughter all this time; he could not afford to be exposed now.

‘Damn it, how much money will it cost just to fix this one bruise?’

Bradley glared at his foolish daughter standing nearby and clicked his tongue. The face was presentable enough that they had raised her without sending her away, yet the cost was still far too high.

‘Just graduate from the academy and I’ll sell you to the most expensive bidder, no matter what.’

Bradley calculated the remaining funds in the safe and beckoned Tilia over with a wave of his hand.

“Go. I’ll have a healer summoned by tomorrow evening.”

Tilia obediently lowered her head and slipped out of the room.

Beautiful.

The rendezvous with Judy had been postponed to tomorrow, not today.

‘With a healer summoned in a rush, the cost will be steep.’

To arrange a healer from the temple, contact had to be made at least three days in advance. If not, a hefty bribe would be required for immediate treatment.

But that was only possible with proper connections.

Tilia smirked as she climbed the stairs, the letter she had just written to the faceless noble mocking her father.

The Wells family’s ruin meant nothing to her.

‘Better if they fall, so I can escape to another country without being followed.’

The house was only important until she left. After that, she did not care what happened to it.

‘More importantly, where am I going tomorrow?’

She could simply claim she had made preparations and met up with Judy. Or perhaps send Judy a message inviting her out tomorrow.

As Tilia climbed the stairs, she was already planning what to do tomorrow.

“Hey.”

A disgusted voice seized Tilia’s ankle. She turned her head and saw George hurrying after her, panting as he looked up at her.

Tilia regarded her brother at the bottom of the stairs with indifferent eyes, her expression asking him to speak if he had anything to say.

“Um…… Hey, you!”

George stared at Tilia with his green eyes that never seemed to see clearly, then puffed out his chest, pride wounded by the realization that he had been caught glancing.

“You must not behave so carelessly with men at the academy.”

“……”

So that was why he had called her.

Tilia’s cold gaze grew even colder, but George kept talking.

“I-I understand? Don’t flirt with male professors just because you want better grades.”

What did this child think the academy was?

Someone who believed students could raise their grades through such tricks, and professors who would accept them? That was exactly how far his own level reached.

Tilia turned her head away, repelled by the very idea of talking to him.

“There’s nothing like that, and I won’t do it.”

“You don’t understand. You have to know how wicked women can be.”

Tilia’s foot stopped as she tried to ignore him and keep climbing.

“‘I won’t, I can’t’—women think the whole world will do it for them? Maybe you received your grades that way too. Tell me honestly—have you ever actually been to a professor’s house?”

Was it because graduation was so close? Or had her patience finally run out?

“I won’t tell Father, so tell me honestly. Really? None at all?”

Listening to such trash talk was getting harder and harder.

Tilia slowly turned her head and looked at her biological brother.

His light brown hair and green eyes gave him a somewhat handsome face, much like their father. And like their father, that was all he had—his face.

“Why would I even go there?”

Tilia spoke with a gentle voice directed at George, who had been boasting since the study all the way here.

“I’m not some idiot who couldn’t even pass the entrance exam like you.”

“Hey, you……!”

George’s eyes blazed with rage as he was directly confronted with the hidden inferiority complex that had driven him to pester her.

“You crazy woman, what did you just say?!”

“Can’t you understand words? I said we’re not the same.”

Tilia curved her lips smoothly, mocking him.

George Ambrose had failed the Archasis Royal Academy entrance exams five times, never even coming close to passing each time.

“True, that’s all you see. People think according to their own level, after all.”

Tilia knew exactly how devastating that defeat must feel to him.

And how he was trying to turn that defeat into something else.

“Why are you so angry? You’re the one who’s inferior—don’t you think it’s only fair that women worse than you are actually better than you?”

George, who had been raised like a prince in the house, simply could not accept the fact that he was nothing in society.

He had gone so far as to believe that wicked women had stolen his position through underhanded means.

“What then? That doesn’t mean anyone will meet you.”

But that illusion would never become reality. Noblewomen high and clever would not spare a worthless baron’s son a second glance.

“Stop boasting. If your head is empty, at least show some stubbornness.”

“Where did this come from, you cheeky brat……!”

George charged up the stairs with a threatening step, as if he were about to grab Tilia’s hair.

In an instant he closed the distance, eyes glittering as he raised his fist.

“Yeah, you’ve been hitting me for a long time now.”

As his large fist cast a shadow over Tilia’s head, she smiled, lips curling.

“If you want to hit me, hit me.”

“But I know you’re going to meet Judy tomorrow, right?”

As expected, George’s fist froze in mid-air.

“If you’re going to hit, you should hit somewhere no one will see. Oh, and don’t think I won’t say anything to Judy. I know we’re all having dinner with the Wells family tomorrow, right? It would be fun to go there limping. Won’t it?”

Tilia laughed through her nose, watching George’s twisted face and the trembling fist in the air.

Countess Wells, Judy’s mother, was famous in high society for her wide network. The saying that there was no lady yet who did not know her went around.

Yes, it would be troublesome if her true colors were revealed before the wedding.

Tilia turned her body halfway, openly mocking George with his lips trembling as he could not bring himself to strike her.

“You’ve been acting so obedient lately, haven’t you? Why? Because you’ve shown your vile nature, the highborn ladies won’t even spare you a glance, will they?”

“……Shut your mouth. You’ll really be beaten to death before I stop.”

“Good thinking. Keep pretending to be proper. That way you can catch an innocent young lady with money and no sense, like Father, right?”

“You, you damn—!”

Tilia ignored her cursing brother, ignoring his rage and climbing the stairs with light steps.