SWST 45

After a lonely breakfast, Francesca returned to her room and spent quite some time staring out the window.
“Madam, please don’t be too upset. Someday, the young masters will understand your heart,” Karl said, trying to comfort her as he poured hot tea. A rich ginger aroma spread through the room.

Francesca, noticing the sharp yet sweet scent for the first time, looked down at the tea.
“What kind of tea is this?”
“It’s made from ginger. Please, try some.”
“Ginger? You drink tea made from that?”

Though she felt unfamiliar and slightly uneasy, she took a small sip, drawn in by the sweet fragrance.
“It’s delicious… my throat feels warm. I’ve never tasted anything like this. Where did this gift come from?”
“Actually, it was made by the young lady for you, Madam.”
“Her?”
“Yes. She noticed that you weren’t feeling well yesterday, so she made it for you. She said it’s especially good for colds or body aches and that you should drink it hot.”

Karl had also been suspicious of the tea Halala brought. Could such food really be safe for a duchess to drink? He had peeked secretly, only to be surprised that beneath the sharp scent, it was soft and sweet. Francesca felt the same.

She sipped the tea, her expression thoughtful, and in a quiet, lonely voice murmured,
“So this is why daughters are so cherished.”

None of her three sons seemed to respond as she wished.
“What are you talking about? You’ve raised three fine young men,” Karl said.
“No… these days I feel like I’ve failed the most there. How is it that none of my sons will even eat the meals I prepare?”

It was the first time anyone realized how lonely she felt. Her nose began to tingle, whether from a cold or tears, she couldn’t tell.
“No, Master Dochef did eat it,” Karl reassured her.

Francesca let out a small, ironic laugh.
“You don’t have to go out of your way to comfort me.”

He had eaten it? She thought Karl was trying to cheer her up deliberately.
“Really. He even sent a letter.”

Could it really be true? Karl handed her a white envelope.
“Dochef? No way…”

Still, her hands hurriedly opened the envelope. Inside was a simple message:

“I prefer spicy cabbage over salty onions.”

The handwriting was unfamiliar. For someone often called a ruffian, it was neat and tidy.
‘So he has handwriting like this…’

Francesca’s fingers traced the letter. The rough and clumsy words reminded her of Dochef as a child, chewing on treats with a full mouth.
“Madam, Master Dochef wrote—”
“He ate it,” she interrupted.

At that moment, her lips trembled, and a soft smile slowly spread across her face, almost impossibly gentle. Karl froze, wide-eyed.
‘Has she ever been this happy before?’

Francesca had never shown such a girl-like expression. Usually stoic, cold, and sometimes stronger than a general, now her cheeks flushed softly, like when she first came to her husband’s house.
“Madam…”

All it took was one letter to make her this joyful. Karl could finally understand how much she had been worrying.
“Next time, make more food for him,” Karl smiled, sharing her joy.

But Francesca shook her head.
“I don’t think I’m suited for cooking.”

She had already shed endless tears over just one side dish; the thought of a full meal was too much. And seeing Dochef’s preference in the letter, it seemed he enjoyed Halala’s cooking more than hers.

So, Francesca came up with a good idea.
“Dochef said he liked that spicy cabbage.”

The kimchi Halala had served at the last banquet.
“Spicy cabbage?”
“Yes, the kimchi. I’d never had it before either. At first, it felt too strong, but in hindsight, it’s addictive.”

A taste that cleansed the palate after rich food, spicy but stimulating.

“I think I’ll start a business with that,” she said. Cooking was not her main goal; she had something else in mind.
“A business, Madam?”
“Yes. I wanted to open a small shop to sell my food. Right now, I get to cook for people I like, but…”

Halala spoke as if it were natural.
“If even a commoner like me can do what she loves, then as a duchess, you certainly can.”

Francesca was struck silent. Only now did she realize that while Halala could pursue her dreams, she, the duchess, had been suppressing hers because the duke opposed it.
“I want to fulfill my purpose for my children, my family, and for myself.”

The shadow in her eyes, present since Bloody Mary, flickered with life once more.

A few days later, with Helbern having become a monster, I couldn’t remain idle. I busied myself tracking down the famed sword for Dochef by following clues left by Junel.

“Hmm, perfect. This should be more than enough to defeat Helbern.”

I smiled proudly at the sword I had hidden under the bed. Come at me, Helbern. If you’ve become a monster through the Blood Sword, Dochef will become the strongest in the world with these swords!

“Young Mistress, what are you doing?”

Mei had come in. I hurriedly hid the sword under the bed.
“Good afternoon.”
“What were you doing there?”
“Ah… stretching.”

She couldn’t know. Seeing the sword would distress kind Mei. Of course, I didn’t intend to use it.

“Be careful. Bending like that could strain your body.”
“Strain? It’s just stretching. By the way, how is Master Helbern doing?”
“The third young master? Why do you ask?”
“He seems to dislike me so much that he’s been avoiding me.”

It wasn’t the whole reason, but it wasn’t a lie either.
“Really? Why would you say that…? The young masters don’t yet know your warm heart.”

Mei drooped her eyebrows in sympathy. She really was kind.
“Warm heart or not, causing trouble for the family is a much bigger issue. I understood that, so I tried to hide quietly. But Helbern really seemed intent on finishing me off. If only I hadn’t given him the Blood Sword… I should have lied and let him handle it himself.”

But I couldn’t turn back time, so avoiding him for now was the safest option.
“Finishing me off…?”
“I’m really scared. Just yesterday, Master Helbern chased me… I barely escaped back to the banquet hall.”

Thinking back to that chase, my arms still get goosebumps.

Suddenly, the memory of his low, laughing voice as he opened the door flashed vividly.
“Ugh, scary…”

Mei, seeing my terrified expression, wrapped me in concern.
“Don’t worry. The third young master won’t be able to chase you.”
“Eh? Why not?”
“Actually, Master Helbern is locked in the underground prison.”
“Oh?”

It seems Nikolai is helping me again.

Meanwhile, in the underground of Bloody Mary.

“NIKOLAI!! You bastard!!”

Bang bang—!

The sharp noise filled the dungeon. It was Helbern. After the day he lost control of the Blood Sword to Nikolai, he had been forcibly dragged underground.

Nikolai had set a magical barrier so no sword could pierce it. Inside, Helbern wailed in frustration.
“It’s because of the Blood Sword! I told you, didn’t I!!”

But it was as if Nikolai had blocked his ears, ignoring him completely.