The Butterfly That Swallowed the Fog

“Aaaah…!”

Gregory, the very man he had trusted, had been abandoned. He writhed on the floor in utter despair, the picture of a tragic heroine, sobbing with heart-wrenching cries.

“Tilia Ambrose… it was her! She came into my room and did that disgusting thing!”

His accusation was clear as day: Tilia was the culprit behind the painted portrait of the Madonna found in his room—now defiled by a lewd, aroused sketch.

Thinking about it, no one else in the academy harbored such malice toward him. It had to have been sparked by the Graduation Exam. The day that would have defined his future.

The damned bitch…!

Gregory shook with rage, his body trembling as he hurled curses.

He had used people to administer holy water, but he never intended to ruin her life completely like this. The substance had only been a tool for coercion—to break her spirit, then substitute his name on the exam paper.

What was so unbearable about that? What had made her so furious?

He had only wanted to graduate from the academy.

Tilia Ambrose could simply retake the year. But if he failed this year too, his title would slip away like water.

Just one year—barely one—should have been enough. Yet here he was, destroyed because of her.

And to think she had never even been his lover in the first place!

“I’ll kill her.”

Gregory rose, his voice thick with murderous intent, his body still quivering.

He staggered to the old desk he had been dragged to. The desk his mother had placed in his original room, with its secret drawer hidden beneath.

“Ahem. Even if I die, I’ll never manage it alone.”

His hands shook violently as he pulled open the deepest drawer, his eyes gleaming with malevolent glee.

In his grip, immediately raised, were bottles of specially processed holy water—each one a lethal dose.

Tilia returned home, fresh from her shower, and could not hide the unease in her expression.

That was only natural. The official document she had discreetly tucked into the book the night before had vanished without a trace.

Why?

Her face had gone deathly pale as she searched the thick volume, flipping through every page, dusting it off, even checking the slots where the pages should have been inserted. The paper was nowhere to be found.

It can’t have legs… so where the hell did it go…?

“Hey.”

Tilia was still frowning when the door burst open and George Ambrose strolled in with a smug grin.

She narrowed her eyes instinctively, then froze upon seeing the paper in his hand, her expression hardening.

“You….”

“You’re awfully full of yourself, huh?”

George leaned against the doorframe, inspecting the document he had stolen.

“Ontaroa Consulate? You think you could actually go there?”

“……”

“No, are you serious? Father would never let you attend an interview. A consulate? Men can’t stand women who act like they’re the ones working. What if someone flirts with you during the interview—who knows what could happen!”

Tilia clenched her cold hands and stared back at him.

“Did you search my room?”

“Search? I just gave it a quick look to check for anything suspicious. You must’ve bought a ton of Ontaroa language books, right? Where’d you even get that money?”

“……”

“If you stole the family’s money like that, you’d better start thinking about paying it back. Planning to run off overseas? You think I don’t know what’s in your head?”

George clicked his tongue, glancing at her pale face.

“I was just about to tell Father when I saw you, but since you’re so stupid you might’ve misunderstood something, I’ll let it slide this once. Ah, though not without conditions.”

George cleared his throat loudly, then straightened his shoulders.

“Do you know Brad Reynolds, my friend? He really wants to meet you. Come by once and I’ll set it up.”

“……Brad Reynolds?”

“Yeah. You know the Reynold family is a marquess? This is an amazing opportunity for you. Not only will I ignore your ridiculous dreams, but I’ll even introduce you to a decent guy. There’s no better older brother in this world, you lucky girl!”

George crossed his arms and puffed out his chest.

Good thing I looked in the room yesterday. My foresight paid off.

Proud of his own cunning, George smirked as he recalled his promise with Brad.

If he delivered Tilia to Brad next week, Brad would introduce his own sister to him…

If I can charm Briana Reynolds properly, I’ll swallow the marquess’s estate whole.

George’s eyes sparkled with dreams when a cynical laugh reached his ears.

He looked down and saw Tilia, head thrown back in amusement, laughing heartily as if everything was the funniest joke in the world.

Has she lost her mind?

“Ah, sorry. Your words were funny.”

Tilia looked at him with a smile she couldn’t quite hide.

“I applied for the Ontaroa Consulate position. Am I crazy?”

“……Don’t try to dodge. I already checked the Ontaroa conversation books you bought.”

“Ah, those?”

Tilia casually glanced at the paper bag he pointed to.

“Those are the academy graduation requirements. You need one solid foreign language. When I applied for the scholarship, Judy and I went out and bought them today.”

George snorted, unable to hide his mockery at her obvious sarcasm.

“You’re wasting your time. How are you going to explain that thick book full of employment notices?”

“I? I didn’t hide that.”

Tilia laughed loudly again, as if he had made the most ridiculous mistake.

“I didn’t even know it was there. Ontaroa Consulate employment notice? Why would I hide something like that?”

“You… you really think you can just walk into Father’s office and say this? Huh? Right?”

George believed this time Tilia would finally stop lying and come crawling to him on her knees.

But Tilia merely turned to the mirror on the wall, answering calmly.

“Sure. Go tell him.”

“……”

“Go to Father and tell him you bought all those Ontaroa language books, you found the document, and you’re definitely preparing for the Consulate position.”

Tilia giggled, as if the idea was utterly absurd.

“He’ll probably believe you. Or he won’t, it doesn’t matter. I’ve never done anything like that.”

Tilia turned away, declaring the conversation over.

“Now leave. I’m going to bed.”

“……”

“Huh?”

“Not leaving? I’m sleepy.”

Her reaction was so odd that George’s face started to twist with worry.

This won’t do. He wouldn’t be able to fulfill his promise to Brad.

Feeling his certainty slip, George unconsciously began watching her closely.

“What?”

When Tilia looked at him with an irritated glare even after the threat of a cold dismissal, George realized he wasn’t leaving.

“Didn’t we finish what we had to say? Get out.”

“Hey, come on… Brad is a really nice guy, right? So….”

“You. Tell me straight.”

Tilia’s sharp eyes locked onto George, as if she had already seen through everything.

“You promised to introduce me to Brad Reynolds.”

George admitted it half-heartedly, his words pierced through like a Gypsy’s insight.

“Y-yes… that’s right….”

“Ah, why are you acting so high-handed? Have you even thought about what Father will do if he finds out?”

Anger flared in Tilia’s voice as she glared at him irritably.

“You made a promise? No, never mind. Don’t speak of it. It has nothing to do with me.”

George panicked, stepping over the threshold and speaking quickly.

“Hey, family helps family, right? You’ll need my help someday too, won’t you?”

“……”

“Think carefully! It won’t be long before I need you. Just close your eyes this one time and help me, and I’ll return the favor big-time later. All right?”

George gazed at her with desperate eyes and repeated his plea.

“You don’t understand how the world works. I can help you.”

At his cryptic words, Tilia hesitated for a moment, then sighed and turned away once more.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

George watched her with the eyes of a savior, but conditions were attached.

“I’ll go because you asked so nicely. Just remember you owe me one.”

George shook his head vigorously, his mind spinning.

“Of course I won’t forget!”

“Search my room one more time and I’ll tell Father you introduced me to Brad or something. Got it?”

“Ah, fine! I won’t!”

“Then get out.”

“Yeah, good night…!”

Slap.

Tilia didn’t even wait for his farewell and shoved him out, slamming the door shut.

From beyond the door came the sound of George cursing, but soon it faded into a distant hum as he must have remembered what he was supposed to gain.

Exhale.

Only after the sound of his footsteps had vanished completely did Tilia release the breath she had been holding and rest her forehead against the door.