The place where he led her, who was in such an agitated state, was a secluded path through the forest behind the lecture hall.
Dim gas lamps sparsely illuminated the dark path, making it exactly the secret place for lovers that he had mentioned.
“He probably knows these secluded places well.”
Looking around, she turned her head and looked at the man walking next to her.
Without a jacket, in a white shirt, Ilex Davenport seemed to glow even in the dark. His blue eyes, deep in thought, were framed by long eyelashes, soft and bright. His nose, elegantly straight, gave his profile a beauty like a painting.
Looking at his face, it no longer seemed strange that he knew secluded places in the academy.
He may have come here before, although for different reasons than today.
Maybe his jacket, discarded this evening, served as a real blanket.
As she walked, idly kicking pebbles, Tilia thought it was stupid to worry about his reputation.
How is your practice of speaking Ontario going?
After a minute of silence, he unexpectedly asked a question that concerned her secret.
Tilia studied his face intently, as if trying to figure out the purpose of the interrogation, like an interrogator sent to uncover the true motives of a spy.
-Have you finished reading the books you bought earlier?
However, nothing could be read from the expression on his face. He spoke lightly, as if he didn't mean anything.
- And yet practice from books and real conversations are two different things.
Of course, why would he reveal anything? She had countless questions for him, but she never received a proper answer to even one "why".
-...I read them.
Sighing, Tilia answered after a long silence.
- Like you said, practicing speaking from a book doesn't make much sense.
- Why not find someone with whom you can practice and improve your skills?
- Easier said than done.
She muttered, her face clouded with disappointment.
- Do you think it would be easy to find someone who speaks fluent Ontario to help me prepare for an interview? On top of that, I will have to hide my motive - preparation for a post at the consulate. This is impossible.
- Why is it impossible?
Ilex, who had been silently listening, spoke before she finished.
- There's someone right here.
Hearing this, Tilia stopped, frozen midway. She looked at him.
Seeing her stop, Ilex also stopped, looking down at her.
They looked at each other for a while, as if trying to understand each other's thoughts, while the cold autumn air filled the space between them.
His gray-blue eyes were beautiful, like glass marbles, but not so transparent.
Sometimes she felt the urge to look deeper into Ilex Davenport's eyes, just to see what was hidden there.
- Practice with me.
In response to her silence, he finally spoke slowly.
- I'll help you, so...
For a moment it seemed that something incomprehensible was smoldering in those clear gray-blue eyes.
The tension - like a bonfire on a winter's night, or perhaps a fire threatening to consume a cozy home - emanated from his cold gaze, and Tilia felt it spreading through her.
- All you have to do is nod.
The warmth from his gaze seemed to leave a burn. The warmth started from the temples, spread across the face, neck and chest.
Tilia could not understand this strange warmth. The uneven beating of her heart worried her. The feeling that my throat was swollen, as if there was a large almond stuck there, was unfamiliar.
- That's all you need.
As if she couldn't bear the discomfort, she lowered her head and his muffled voice echoed in her ears.
- Then I will help you as best I can.
Hearing this, something flashed in her chest like a spark.
Why?
This single question, branching into countless doubts, raged within her, trying to find a way out.
Why are you helping me? No, even before that - what kind of grand opening of an ice cream parlor is this? Why are you so wary of Mackenzie Fitz? No, moreover, why were such dishes served in the mansion? No no. Even before all this...
Why did you sleep with me?
A flood of questions threatened to crush her, and it seemed to her that she might die if she did not voice them.
But Tilia stubbornly suppressed all the questions that came to her throat. She gritted her teeth and swallowed them, making sure they never escaped.
It was an instinctive reaction. It was a survival instinct, an attempt to protect the life she desperately wanted to continue - the same instinct that told her she couldn't handle the truth if she dared ask.
Heeding the warning, Tilia took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened them again.
She still didn't know what his true intentions were. But she decided to act as if she knew nothing - to cover the truth with mud, as if burying an empty grave.
But she needed his help. Paradoxically and selfishly, she needed him.
And although she could not understand what was hidden inside him, she needed the help of Ilex Davenport to escape this place and live the life she dreamed of in Ontario.
For the sake of survival, for the sake of a chance at real life, Tilia was ready to do anything.
And so, instead of opening her mouth and demanding an explanation, she nodded slowly.
As he told her, as instinct told her, she nodded silently.
Even after receiving this cowardly confirmation, a smile of relief spread across Ilex's face.
It was an extremely gentle smile, which Tilia, lowering her head, did not notice.
***
The last semester for the graduates of the Royal Academy of Acansis flew by quickly.
Before they could fully admire the colorful autumn leaves, the trees shed their crowns, and the wind turned from cool to freezing, becoming fierce overnight.
Unlike other classes, the graduates hardly noticed the change of seasons and time, as they were locked in the library.
The second final exam was approaching.
Even those final year students who had previously complained about their busy schedule stopped grumbling. Everyone was giving it their all, cutting in sleep to make it to yet another debate practice, their faces showing the signs of the grueling journey.
The dark circles under the eyes unmistakably identified them as fourth-year students.
However, among these students, with their tired faces, the gloomiest of them all was none other than Tilia Ambrose, who was juggling exam preparation and consular interview preparation.
In the early mornings, after Judy had gone to bed, secret classes were held in secluded places under the cover of darkness.
Usually it was a dark alley behind the girls' dorm used by the dorm custodians, but sometimes they would practice in the secluded hallways of the main building or even in the gym's storage room.
As the seasons changed, so did the places people visited, so Tilia and Ilex often wandered around looking for suitable places for their lessons.
Tonight they found themselves on the shore of a lake surrounded by gazebos, they stumbled upon this place after they gave up the rehearsal room of a large auditorium to a couple in love.
- Put it on.
On a cold night at the beginning of winter, not a soul was visible near the shore of the lake, where the cold damp wind blew freely. Since Tilia was not going to study outside, she did not take a thick coat with her, and Ilex immediately offered her his.
- You'll only lose if you catch a cold. Put it on.
At his insistence, Tilia reluctantly accepted the coat. The clothes worn by this man, who seemed to retain summer warmth even in winter, were as warm as a stove.
That's right, not wearing it means losing. After all, Ilex Davenport would never catch a cold.
Trying to brush it off as nothing, Tilia answered his question.
Over the past few months, her Ontarian skills had improved significantly, so much so that it justified the dark circles under her eyes.
Once again, his advice turned out to be correct: practicing in real conversations was significantly different from learning from books. Her once awkward sentences now flowed smoothly, and her foreign accent had noticeably diminished.
All this happened thanks to classes with Ilex Davenport.
- [I believe that the most important qualities in performing my duties are responsibility and perseverance. I will strive to complete the tasks assigned to me for the benefit of the organization.]
Tilia looked at him, answering the question.
Her Ontarioan was full of traces of her teacher.
She spoke words like Ilex Davenport, built sentences like Ilex Davenport. Her practice of parroting him had left its mark.
__________________________________________________________________
While looking through beautiful portraits on Pinterest, I saw this one and immediately knew - this is it!
Ilex Daventort!
In my opinion, the coincidence is almost 100%
Unfortunately, the author is unknown (perhaps it is not).