I Want To Die One Day Before You - Chapter 222
“No. Absolutely do not help them.”
“Baroness.”
A troubled look spread across Sarubia’s face, but the Baroness of Inferna was seething with anger.
“Those utterly useless royals! They cast people aside like old shoes when they’re not needed, but now that they need something, they come running? Even betrayal has its limits!”
“I’m really fine, Baroness. Please, calm yourself.”
“Saintess, how can I quell this fury?”
The enraged Baroness gripped Sarubia’s shoulders tightly with both hands.
“No matter how powerless the Crown Prince may be, there are limits! Calling back my soon-to-be granddaughter-in-law to the capital on the eve of her wedding?! Unforgivable!”
“G-Granddaughter-in-law?”
Sarubia flushed at the affectionate yet embarrassing title.
“But Baroness, this is not a request—it is an order.”
From behind the flustered Sarubia, Rufus spoke calmly.
“However incompetent they may be, it is the royals who govern this kingdom.”
“So even you won’t deny that the royals are incompetent,” the Baroness remarked with a bitter smirk.
“Since this is a direct command from none other than Crown Prince Viren, the future King, how can we refuse?”
Rufus continued, deliberately ignoring the Baroness’s grumblings.
“I ask this as a favor, Baroness. Please allow Sarubia and me to go to the capital.”
A cold silence settled over the mansion.
The Baroness, who had been staring at Sarubia, slowly shifted her gaze toward Rufus.
“Rufus, you…”
Overwhelmed by emotion, the Baroness opened her mouth but forced herself to shut it again. Her hesitation caught Rufus’s attention, and he tilted his head slightly.
“What were you about to say?”
“…It’s nothing.”
“Baroness.”
“Go.”
The Baroness turned her head sharply.
“If you’ve decided to go, who am I to stop you? Go, and do as you please. But.”
She strode toward Rufus, her eyes gleaming.
“Promise me this will be the last time you set foot in the capital.”
Her hands trembled slightly as she spoke.
―Rufus.
Don’t torment this old woman any longer. I’m someone who’s already nearing the end of my life. Just a little longer is all I ask.
Stay within my fading sight.
Let my weakening ears hear your voice a little while longer.
Allow me to care for you, even with this frail body, for just a bit more.
Am I asking for too much by saying this?
But—
“I’m sorry, but I cannot make that promise.”
That was the response she received.
“…I see.”
The Baroness let out a hollow laugh.
“Do as you will.”
Instead of trying to persuade him further, she turned and walked away from Rufus. Her sharp footsteps echoed against the marble floor as she headed toward the exit.
“I’ll return soon.”
Bang! The heavy sound of the door slamming cut off Rufus’s words like a blade.
“Baroness!”
The butler hurried after her.
Ignoring his call, the Baroness quickened her steps.
“Don’t follow me, butler. I wish to be alone.”
“Baroness, I’m sure Master Rufus had no ill intentions with his words. Please, do not be angry—”
“Angry?”
Her footsteps came to an abrupt halt, as if punctuating her words.
“Do I seem angry because of that wretched boy?”
Still with her back to the butler, the Baroness’s voice was sharp, but her trembling shoulders betrayed her true feelings, like raindrops shattering on the ground.
“I am not so petty. Go and help that ungrateful brat prepare for his journey to the capital.”
“Baroness…”
“I have no wish to repeat myself.”
The butler hesitated briefly, then bowed before returning to where Rufus and Sarubia stood.
The Baroness retreated to her study. As she opened the door, the cold winter air enveloped her, a chilling reminder of her solitude. Nothing else welcomed her.
She glanced at the documents piled on her desk—petitions from the barony’s residents suffering from the devastating harvest, and appeals to the King, which she knew would be rejected but still drafted every year with a glimmer of hope.
Suddenly, it all seemed meaningless.
As if to shake off her thoughts, the Baroness tried to immerse herself in her duties but ended up sinking into her worn-out sofa with a weary sigh.
Perhaps from overuse, the sofa’s leather was already torn.
Should she instruct the staff to mend the holes with stitches?
No. What would be the point? Patching the tears would only leave it looking lumpy and unsightly.
