A Girl Who Impersonated the Saint Lives Freely in Her Second Life

Chapter 2: 2


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Chapter 2: Rewind, Time

The blade of the guillotine is dropped.

“…?”

I’m not feeling any pain.

I flutter my eyelids open, curious.

“Oh, Saint-sama!”

I open my eyes to see Marie, my former maid, looking at me with concern.”

“Do you remember? Saint-sama collapsed after the summoning ceremony.”

“…Summoning ceremony? What do you mean?”

It wasn’t supposed to be a summoning ceremony, but rather my execution. And Marie is no longer serving as my maid. She was meant to be the true Saint’s maid.”

“You just woke up, confused… Saint-sama just completed her summoning ceremony.”

As I lay there, I noticed that I was not on the execution table, but rather on a bed.

There were no restraints on me.

What does it all mean?

“W-What is today’s date?”

In a shaky voice, I ask Marie.

“What’s the date? The date is——.”

Marie’s answer indicates that I was called to this other world for the first time on that day.

“Time travel…?

You are reading story A Girl Who Impersonated the Saint Lives Freely in Her Second Life at novel35.com

How is that possible? But… My neck is still intact.

“Saint-sama?”

“No, it’s nothing. I was just a little confused.”

If this isn’t a trap and it’s true, I might get another chance.

I give Marie a slight smile. ——If I recall correctly, there is supposed to be a follow-up meeting with Garen, my bodyguard.

■□■

The meeting went well.

——Garen, the man I fell in love with and who abandoned me.

The first time we met, I fell in love with Garen at first sight. I’ve loved Garen ever since. Even when I was about to be executed, that didn’t change.

Why did you abandon me, Garen? When you boldly stated that even if I couldn’t do anything, my mere presence would suffice?

My mind was racing with resentment, but the words that came out of my mouth were ordinary.

“My name is Mika—pleased to meet you.”

“…My name is Garen, and I’ve been assigned to be your bodyguard.”

——? Garen just called my name Mika, which is difficult to pronounce in this country and sounds more like “Myca” than “Mika” when you meet someone for the first time.

Is it my imagination? It has to be my imagination.

He asks for a handshake, which I give. — Garen’s hand is as warm as ever, even through the gloves.

I almost cried thinking about it as I held his hand.

——I had no idea Garen was staring at me at the time.

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