Episode 6. Please Blow on the Napolitan Pasta Before Eating (1)
“The lord is just as kind as the people in this village.”
Back at the mansion, Sasha thought about Luvia, whom she had just met.
“I was already touched that the lord came to see me personally, but now…!”
Luvia’s hair sparkled like a tomato. It had been a long time since Sasha had seen such beautiful hair.
“But I messed up.”
She remembered not shaking the lord’s hand. She had been so overwhelmed that she only covered her mouth in surprise, forgetting to reach out.
“How could I forget to properly greet someone who came all the way here because of a mistake in the mansion report?”
Sasha regretted not shaking hands—but maybe it was for the best. Her hands were still ice-cold from washing tomatoes in the chilly mountain stream.
“I wonder if the person who came with the lord is a friend?”
The way he looked so tired made Sasha wonder if, like her, he had skipped lunch.
‘They came here to help me. At the very least, I should’ve offered them dinner, right?’
She pretended to read some documents while thinking about whether or not to ask them to stay for a meal.
But then she remembered—this wasn’t her home. The master of the house hadn’t returned yet either.
She couldn’t take any risks in someone else’s home.
Sasha let out a deep sigh and clenched her fists.
“One day, I’ll ask the master for permission and cook a delicious meal for the lord and his friend. I’m sure the master will be happy—they helped us with the mansion report, after all.”
Just as she was about to clean the mansion while thinking of that future day, she noticed the documents the visitors had left on the table.
“If the building is classified as an eyesore, it may be demolished.”
Her heart sank.
To Sasha, the mansion was simply poorly maintained—but still beautiful.
Yet what she saw as lovely, others might see as ugly.
‘Does the master know about this?’
Feeling down, Sasha looked out the window. The letter had said the master would return by tonight, but it was dark and quiet outside.
A wave of anxiety hit her.
‘Will I really be able to stay here?’
She had only been in Schufeinhau for two days, but she already loved the place. The beautiful nature, the kind people—but most of all, the mansion that had nestled its way into her heart.
Some might find it old and ugly, but Sasha liked the unique atmosphere of things that had stood the test of time. This mansion had lived far longer than she had. It must hold many stories.
Sasha closed her eyes and imagined the mansion whispering its stories to her.
The soft sound of life growing in the garden soil, the lively footsteps of staff filling the house with warmth, and the sparkling garden under the gentle sunlight—it all played in her mind.
“Yes, that’s right. You must have been such a beautiful place once.”
Smiling, she stood up. Just imagining the mansion in its prime lifted her mood.
“Alright. Let’s think only good thoughts from now on.”
Sasha loved two things the most—caring for the mansion and cooking delicious food.
Maybe because she hadn’t eaten lunch, her stomach growled. That empty feeling probably made her emotions feel heavier, too.
So she got up and headed to the kitchen.
“I’ll cook something now so it’s ready when the master returns.”
Today’s menu: Napolitan pasta—a dish her mother had taught her when she was young. Easy to make and comforting.
Earlier, she had washed a big batch of tomatoes from the market and started boiling them.
She added sugar and bay leaves to the pot, letting it simmer until the tomatoes softened and released a sweet and tangy aroma.
She tasted it with a spoon.
“Perfect.”
The flavor made her smile.
She lit the wood oven and took a pan from the cupboard. Luckily, the cooking tools were in good condition.
She poured olive oil into the clean pan, added a handful of chopped garlic, and let it sizzle until it turned a golden caramel color. Then she added diced ham and bacon.
Ssshhh—
The sound made her mouth water, and a savory smell filled the kitchen. She poured in a cup of water and added thick pasta noodles.
As the noodles absorbed the water and softened, she squirted in tomato ketchup. A few quick stirs, and the pasta was ready.
She plated it in a pretty bowl and shouted joyfully:
“All done!”
The bright red Napolitan pasta looked so good, her shoulders bounced in excitement.
Rustle.
A strange noise came from the garden.
“Huh?”
Sasha gently set her fork down.
“Could it be the master?”
She perked up her ears and headed toward the sound.
It was raining lightly under a gloomy, cloudy sky—just like the eerie weather yesterday.
The sound came from a bush in a corner of the garden.
‘The master wouldn’t be hiding in there, would he?’
Maybe it was a wild animal?
She tiptoed closer, holding her breath.
“Uh… oh?”
When she saw what it was, her heart nearly stopped.
A man was lying unconscious in the bushes. His entire body was covered in dirt, and his clothes were torn like he had been through something terrible.
His tangled hair covered his face, but from his appearance, it was clear—he was in bad shape.
‘What happened to him…?’
Dark thoughts flashed through her mind. Maybe he had been attacked by a wild animal—or a criminal?
Whatever it was, he had clearly gone through something awful.
She checked his breathing by putting her fingers near his nose.
‘He’s breathing, but it’s slow and uneven.’
If left alone, he might die.
Suddenly, memories of the disaster at the Security Bureau flooded her mind—so many people had been hurt, but she hadn’t been able to save a single one.
‘I can’t let that happen again.’
She didn’t know who he was—his name, his face—nothing. But her body moved with one thought: she had to save him.
She lifted him up with strength she didn’t know she had. Honestly, he felt weightless, because she was so desperate.
She had noticed the bloodstains on his shirt.
‘He’s way too pale, and his body is freezing.’
She had to get him to a warm, safe place—fast. The best option was the mansion.
For a brief second, she thought, “Will the master be upset if I bring a muddy stranger into the house?”
But she quickly pushed that thought away.
She couldn’t let fear stop her from helping someone again.
‘The first floor will have to do.’
She wanted to take him to her room on the second floor, but there was no way she could carry someone that heavy upstairs. So she laid him down in the first-floor entrance.
Now that there was more light, she could see his condition better.
His shirt was torn by something sharp, but thankfully, the wounds weren’t deep.
‘Let’s clean these wounds first.’
She got hot water and a clean towel from the kitchen. Soaking the towel, she wrung it out and gently wiped his injuries.
It looked like he had fallen into thorn bushes, but she couldn’t be sure.
‘Right now, all I can do is treat the wounds.’
She took out some herbs she always carried, crushed them, and applied the thick, green juice to his injuries.
She stayed with him, wiping his wounds, applying medicine, and watching over him…
The Napolitan pasta she had made was completely forgotten.
“Haa…”
A quiet sigh escaped his lips.
She held his hand—and it felt a little warmer than before.
“Thank goodness…”
A relieved sigh escaped her lips.
But then—
“…What on earth is going on here?”
A shadow appeared behind her.
Someone was standing there.
