SWST 07

Chapter 07

“Young Master?”
It was just when Karl recognized Dochev.
The moment their eyes met, he immediately fled the courtyard.
Karl chased after him.
“Young Master!!”
He ran after him relentlessly.
Dochev darted through the narrow alleys, quickly disappearing from sight.
Unlike Dochev, who usually wore a neat updo, the man before Karl had disheveled, messy hair—but he had been Dochev’s steward since childhood.
There was no way Karl wouldn’t recognize him!
“Young Master Dochev!”
Even after calling his name, he didn’t turn around.
Moreover, his pace was incredibly fast.
“Ugh…!”
Karl pretended to fall, but instead, the man seemed to take advantage of the moment and vanished into the darkness.
“So indifferent… it really is our Young Master.”
As soon as he realized it was indeed Dochev, despair washed over him.
“This is terrible, absolutely terrible.”
A hoarse sound slipped between his lips.
This was the worst possible outcome.
Halara was pregnant.
She had even hung up a sign forbidding men from entering the house because of the child.
And yet, the only man entering that house… was none other than Young Master Dochev himself.
Moreover, that strict Young Master had changed into commoner clothes to avoid being recognized and was peeling potatoes in that house.
“Could it really be… Young Master Dochev is the father?”
Was Halara truly carrying Dochev’s child?
If so, a child with commoner blood would be born into the family.
And not through a formal marriage, but from an unmarried couple.
And it was done by a young master notorious for being a rogue.
“Ahhh…”
The family was about to fall apart.
Karlos sat in despair, lost in thought for a long time.
Only after sunset did he return to the Bloody Mary Duke estate.
The next day, he still carried the same worry.
“How am I supposed to fix this problem?”
He might even collapse.
If that happened, what would become of Bloody Mary…?
What would happen to my fate…?

“Ross.”
A sharp cut to the neck…
“Karlos!”
Or scalded by boiling oil…!
“Head Steward!”
“P-please spare me!”
Imagining being swallowed by a massive fire, he sank to the ground and curled up.
Eyes tightly shut in terror, he heard a woman’s voice.
“Why are you like this? All day long?”
It was the voice of the Reaper he most wanted to avoid.
He peeked through his eyelids to see Francesca’s red nails approaching him.
Having imagined the worst, Karl blurted out without thinking.
“Milady, if you think about it, this isn’t really my fault, is it!”
“What? What is that… Has there been another accident?”
His eyes were already half-crazed.
“W-what exactly did I do wrong? Isn’t it your son who committed the fault in the first place?”
Like a trapped rat baring its teeth at a cat.
“Just what kind of rude thing are you saying? Explain yourself properly.”
“Y-Young Master D-Dochev!”
Overcome by fear and panic, Karl blurted out whatever came to mind.
Even if he tried to sugarcoat it, nothing that had already happened could be changed.
He was as good as dead.
Together with Young Master Dochev.

“Dochev?”
The moment her painful son’s name was spoken, Francesca’s face stiffened.
To her, there was only one reason Karl would come out like this.
“Could it be the woman who came last time? The one who was said to be pregnant with Dochev’s child?”
Her voice dropped instantly to a low tone, as if no one should hear.
Karl shivered under her razor-sharp gaze.
“Yes.”
“Karlos, I will forgive your earlier rudeness, but from now on, you must answer my questions properly. Understand?”
A warning not to make another mistake.
“Of course.”
“Then report properly. Stand up straight. What kind of disgrace is this, in front of the staff?”
At her sharp admonition, Karl immediately stood up.
Even in this situation, she was undoubtedly Francesca.
But that thought was fleeting.
“I went to that commoner woman’s house.”
He continued.
“There was a sign in front of her house forbidding men from entering.”
“How absurd.”
Given her appearance, it was no wonder men flocked to her. Truly an exhausting fate.
“I was curious why she suddenly put up such a sign, so I asked her neighbors… and apparently, she’s pregnant.”
Francesca’s eyes narrowed at the difficult words he managed to speak.
“Pregnant? Is that true?”
“Yes. The neighbors have no reason to lie. Moreover, a woman who has lived off men suddenly refusing male visitors—it’s because of the child she carries.”
Francesca folded her arms and began to think.
It was suspicious that she suddenly refused male visitors.
She was essentially cutting off her own livelihood.
And it was because she was pregnant?
“The neighbor said that these days she goes to the market herself and cooks her own meals. The chimney, which used to just be decorative, now has smoke rising from it daily!”
As he spoke, Karl’s emotions rose as well.
He had completely changed.
There was no doubt—she was pregnant.
He took a deep breath in and exhaled.
Now it was time to get to the main point.
“And… I saw Young Master Dochev at her house.”
“Dochev…?”
Francesca, who had maintained composure until now, cracked.
“He had his hair down and wore shabby clothes, but it was definitely him!”
“He was even disguised and at that woman’s house?”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
Karl replied in a trembling voice.
“Wait… why Dochev?”
Even if she was pregnant, she would have assumed it was another man. But if Dochev had been there, it changed everything.
Francesca staggered.
The dizziness came along with the resolution of a long-standing mystery.
‘Come to think of it, Dochev has been going out a lot recently, carrying some unknown load.’
She had known about Dochev sneaking out but had ignored it because of the incident with Nikolai.
A while ago, the eldest son Nikolai’s beloved hunting dog died.
Nikolai blamed Dochev and confronted him, while Dochev denied it.
They argued loudly.
Afterwards, Dochev avoided family meals and spent time outside.
When Nikolai went out for family matters, Dochev stayed home, but whenever Nikolai returned, Dochev immediately went out and only came back at dawn.
Francesca had known all this through the servants, but since the two sons always growled at each other, she had decided to observe and wait.
But to think…
“He’s started a household…?”
The rogue son had finally done something serious.
As Francesca staggered from the shock, Karlos quickly supported her.
“Milady, please pull yourself together!”
“No. No matter how reckless Dochev is, he wouldn’t do such a thing.”
She denied it.
Even though he acted like a rogue, it was only minor offenses like stealing at the market or getting into fights.
Francesca had vaguely understood why Dochev acted out—born with ordinary talent between a remarkable eldest son and a genius youngest son, he had always been the family’s black sheep.
So he sought attention by wandering outside.
But Francesca believed Dochev knew his limits.
He wasn’t the type to make an irreversible mistake.
“Milady!”
“I won’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes.”
She wanted to trust him one last time.

At a small village in the Bloody Mary estate, the sun had just begun to set.
“Is this really a potato?!”
Michel, taking a careful bite of the hot potato pancake, was astonished.
“How is it?”
“Wait, wait!”
Michel hurriedly shoved more into his mouth.
“Whoa, it’s hot!”
“Take it slowly. There’s plenty.”
I handed him a glass of water and smiled proudly.
“Does it suit your taste?”
“Woah! It’s so good!”
“Just eat it for now.”
Just by looking at his wide-eyed expression, I could tell how he felt.
The chili pancakes I had made from market-bought peppers before were a disaster for him, but fortunately, the potato pancakes seemed perfect.
“Chew it properly. And eat a lot. We still have plenty of potatoes.”
Munch.
“You made this out of potatoes?!”
Michel finally swallowed everything in his mouth and spoke properly.
He kept bringing his fork back to the pancakes.
“I can’t believe it. How can a potato make such a savory pie? What should I call this? Anyway, you made this with just potatoes? Honestly, did you put anything else in it?”
“No. It’s purely made of potatoes and salt.”
“Really?”
Nodding proudly, Michel sniffed the potato dough.
“Amazing, amazing. And it tastes so good.”
“The texture is perfect too, right?”
“Yeah. How did you come up with this recipe?”