I Want To Die One Day Before You - Chapter 202
Sarubia was revered as a miracle sent by the heavens among the commoners. To think she would be treated so unfairly and unjustly by the king.
“Furthermore, His Majesty declared that since Sarubia is supposedly responsible for Prince Camus’s death, offering a prayer for him would be an insult to the deceased.”
Bang!
A loud noise echoed as a stool toppled over. Nad had leapt up from his seat.
“What nonsense is that!”
His face was filled with disbelief—not because he didn’t trust Rufus, but because he was deeply shocked that such words could come from the king himself.
“Nad, mind your tongue.”
Maintaining a composed expression, Rufus calmly righted the fallen stool.
“However senseless the accusation may seem, His Majesty is still the king.”
“LOdr Rufus, how can you listen to such words and not feel anger? Saintess, how can you remain calm in the face of such harsh words?”
Nad, like a frog tossed onto a hot skillet, could hardly contain himself.
Rufus cast a subtle glance at Nad. He had always considered him a rather expressive man, and sure enough, he reacted to others’ misfortunes as if they were his own. Indeed, he was useful—keeping him alive had been a wise choice.
Truly.
“I’m fine.”
Sarubia gently shook her head as she listened to Nad’s outraged exclamations.
“It’s just that not being able to offer a final prayer to bless Prince Camus’s soul weighs heavily on me. So, I wished to pray alone, away from the king’s eyes, which is why I came here at this late hour.”
The servants clicked their tongues in sympathy after hearing her words.
“Oh dear…”
“We couldn’t have imagined you were going through such things.”
“It must have been such a burden on your heart, Saintess.”
“No, it’s all my fault.”
Sarubia wiped her eyes.
“It’s only because my abilities fall short. I was born a saint, yet I couldn’t do even one thing that His Majesty wanted, and this is the result.”
“Saintess…”
Seeing the Saintess’s tear-streaked face, the servants’ hearts softened.
Sarubia had always been beloved by the common people. Born a saint, yet she lived a humble life without seeking wealth or glory. Unlike past saints who were bound to the nobles, she chose a life among commoners. She was also the miracle worker who had found Prince Tarek, thought to have died in the demon subjugation.
The idea that such a person was suffering under the king’s persecution felt deeply personal to them.
Nad stood up abruptly.
“I will escort the Saintess to the princes’ graves at once.”
At that moment, a faint smile flickered on Rufus’s lips before disappearing.
***
Iruel lost consciousness and then came to, only to realize he had been buried alive in a coffin. How should he react in such a situation?
“…I guess I’ll go back to sleep.”
He chose to deny reality.
But no matter how many times he closed and reopened his eyes, nothing changed. Summoning a faint light with his magic, he looked around. He was still lying among flowers in a coffin, dressed in strange white garments, and on the lid above him was inscribed a somber funeral verse, “The soul of the departed shall soon rest in eternal peace.”
What in the world was going on? Lying quietly in the coffin, Iruel scratched his neck and took a steadying breath.
‘I remember… I was in a fencing duel with that scoundrel Prince Camus.’
Yes, that was it. Before losing consciousness, he had been dueling Prince Camus. He had prayed repeatedly not to get hit by Camus’s rapier, as just an itty bitty scratch from the poison-laced tip would send him straight to the afterlife.
After the two of them had exchanged swords, Iruel’s objective shifted.
Initially, he had planned to poison Prince Camus, but that goal had fizzled out like a burnt piece of paper. Preserving his life was more important, so he had aimed to dodge Prince Camus’s attacks and find an opening to surrender. But right as the duel began, Camus aimed straight for his neck with the rapier.
Iruel hadn’t even managed a scream. The instant the rapier’s point touched his neck, his entire body froze.
Recalling that moment made him grit his teeth.
‘That bastard of a prince.’
To aim for the neck from the start—where was his sense of honor?
And so, writhing on the ground in convulsions, Iruel came to only to find himself entombed in a coffin.
“What a nightmare… damn it…”
All he could do was curse. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t dead. But, at least he was alive, and that was good enough for now. He could figure the rest out later. First, he needed to get out of here.
Thus began Iruel’s tearful attempt to escape the coffin.
