I Want To Die One Day Before You - Chapter 186
There was no longer any need to sleep beneath the hard stones under the bridge or in a roofed warehouse. Not only that, Primrose could now comfortably enjoy the meat she had longed for and discard her ragged beggar’s clothes in favor of decently pretty outfits.
But the thoughts swirling in Primrose’s mind remained unchanged.
—I don’t want this.
—I don’t want to do this.
—I hate it. I don’t want to.
Every evening, as she ate and drank the food Roned threw her, Primrose thought to herself,
How long will I keep living like this?
She no longer wanted to see it.
She no longer wanted to witness other people’s deaths.
I shouldn’t have told him.
I shouldn’t have told Roned that the mark of the Saintess had appeared on my shoulder. I shouldn’t have told him that I had awakened as the Saintess…
Then one day, as usual, Roned came back from robbing the home of a recently deceased person, laden with stolen goods.
“Let’s see what we have here… Anything worth selling?”
Roned spread the stolen items across the living room floor. That day, he had taken a lot of random things.
“The neighbor’s dog barked so much that I panicked and grabbed everything I could. Ugh, it’s going to take forever to sort this out.”
He grumbled as he sifted through the items, picking out anything valuable.
“Primrose, these are worthless trash. Pile them up somewhere so we can burn them later.”
Sorting through the stolen goods, Roned handed Primrose a pile of random junk. Wearing a blank expression, Primrose mechanically moved the items toward the fireplace, like a puppet under a witch’s spell.
Then something shiny caught her eye.
What’s this?
At first, it was simple curiosity. Anything that sparkled had to be valuable, right? Why would Roned throw away something valuable?
After dumping the items into the fireplace, Primrose slumped down beside it. She picked up the shiny object.
It was a letter.
More precisely, it was a letter inside an envelope stamped with a gold seal.
What does it say?
With nothing else to do, Primrose opened the envelope and skimmed through the contents.
The reading lessons at the orphanage had proved to be useful after all.
To the Head Maid,
As mentioned previously, the child carrying this letter is the one we intend to send from our orphanage.
She is diligent and upright, so she should be able to carry out any tasks given to her.
Since she has already been examined at our orphanage, there is no need for you to trouble yourself with another physical inspection.
I hope this child will serve well as a maid and contribute, even in a small way, to the service of Princess Sordid.
Sincerely,
Benesta
Secretary of the Royal Orphanage
It wasn’t until later that Primrose realized the golden seal on the envelope belonged to a royal orphanage directly managed by the palace. The letter had been written by a secretary who worked at the orphanage, and Roned had stolen it from the secretary’s home.
Staring blankly at the recommendation letter written for someone she didn’t even know, Primrose suddenly had a moment of clarity.
Ah.
I…
I can escape.
Living as a maid, sweeping floors every day, might be better than being forced to witness people’s deaths over and over again.
It didn’t take long for a girl with nothing left to lose to make up her mind.
A few days later, when Roned returned home from his usual thievery, he realized that Primrose was gone.
No matter how desperately he called her name, she was nowhere to be found. He thought he had lost her forever, only for the entire kingdom to be abuzz a few years later about the sudden appearance of the ‘Saintess who Sees Death’.
That’s when Roned finally realized that Primrose hadn’t simply disappeared—she had fled to the royal palace.
…But now, what use was there in dwelling on all of this? Nothing would change.
The Saintess’s prophecy had been correct.
Roned died buried beneath a pile of gold coins he would never live to spend.
***
How far had they fled?
The horse, which had been running non-stop, could go no further.
“You wretched beast! Keep moving!”
In his desperation, Camus kicked the horse’s flank harshly with his heels, but the horse remained stubbornly still, as if protesting.
Camus cursed under his breath and jumped off the horse.
They were in a forest—a secluded place known only to a few, about an hour’s ride from the palace. If he left the horse here, the search party would easily find him.
Exhausted, Camus kicked the side of the horse’s belly. Startled, the horse whinnied and trotted off into the distance.
“Saintess.”
Camus grabbed Sarubia’s wrist tightly as he sent the horse away.
“You must make a prophecy. Right now. Tell me I won’t die tonight. Prophesy it now!”
