Dad is Back From a Deserted Island - Chapter 47

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Father has returned from the Deserted Island
Chapter 47

Petit Debutante.
A ball held for young boys and girls still too young to make their formal debut.
It took place every year on the day before the official Debutante Ball.
With the younger age group came a less serious atmosphere—no one was earnestly hunting for marriage prospects as they would at the true Debutante.
What distinguished it from an ordinary ball was that while adults and children occupied the same venue, they were separated into distinct sections.
After all, it was a space prepared for children to engage in “adult games.”
Naturally, even for a children’s event, only the bourgeoisie—or more precisely, the bourgeoisie with deep personal connections to the nobility—could attend.
An invitation to this Petit Debutante arrived at the House of Lamber.
“An invitation? An invitation came? For me?”
Upon hearing the news of the invitation’s arrival, Vivian wore a bewildered expression.
She was accustomed to receiving letters from Eduard, Luca, and Lise by now, but this was her first invitation ever—a natural reaction.
“Oh! Father! The Imperial Court sent an invitation. They’re inviting me to the Petit Debutante! I thought I wouldn’t be able to attend a ball for years yet.”
The Debutante was restricted to adults eighteen and older, and it was customary for ball invitations to be sent only to those who had already made their debut.
Having nurtured romantic dreams of balls all this time, Vivian was thoroughly thrilled, handling the invitation with the care one might show an ancient manuscript, examining it with meticulous attention.
Coming from the Imperial Court, even the wax seal and paper felt somehow different. The Valmont Family surely didn’t use anything inferior to this.
At the news of an invitation from the Imperial Court, Kiki stirred from light sleep and yawned. She sniffed the letter several times for no particular reason, then squeaked and teased Vivian.
[Why are you making such a fuss? You’d think you’d never been to a ball before… well, you haven’t, have you?]
“Kiki, you’ve never been to a ball either.”
[Squeak!]
Jean de Lamber, who had been gazing at the invitation from beside her for quite some time, spoke with even greater excitement in his voice.
“My daughter. Your first ball? I must summon the tailor at once. You must be the most radiant one there. Wait, no—even in pajamas, my daughter would be the most beautiful—”
“Father, really!”
Vivian blushed at Jean de Lamber’s gushing words, and he gazed at her with contented laughter—an ordinary, peaceful afternoon like any other.
But that night.
Sounds of weeping emanated from Jean de Lamber’s bedroom.
Even at the late hour, he could not bring himself to lie in bed. Instead, he sat by the window, gazing up at the night sky, tears streaming down his gentle eyes. The soft contours around them had flushed red.
How happy Jean’s Wife would be if she could see this moment now.
‘My love. I miss you.’
The Debutante, which had seemed like nothing but a dream when he spoke intimately with Jean’s Wife—
‘Vivian received an invitation.’
Before the regression, such words would have been unthinkable for the House of Lamber.
A poor house on the verge of ruin—not by commoner standards, but certainly by the standards of the nobility—with nothing but a small ancestral estate. There was no one who would send an invitation to such a family.
Had anyone even known of their existence?
I’m truly changing the future.
Everything around me has transformed as dramatically as heaven and earth switching places, but receiving an invitation from the Imperial Court made it feel all the more real.
I’ve climbed not just one step, but several.
Now I think I might finally have the courage to face Jean’s Wife after I die.
Before this, I didn’t even dare harbor the desire to see her again in the afterlife. I lacked the shame to face her.
How pitiful were the consequences of my failure to see people properly and entrusting my daughter to the wrong hands.
That will never happen again.
As if answering Jean de Lamber’s resolve, the distant cry of an owl echoed through the night.

* * *

Vivian possessed an unexpected talent for music.
Beginning with a passion for the pan flute, she progressed to piano, violin, flute, and harp.
After Jean de Lamber hired a private tutor for her, within a few years she had long since surpassed the level that nobles merely played as refinement.
Her sense of rhythm was particularly exceptional.
“Bravo! Young Lady Vivian. Today’s performance was splendid. For your next piece, you might consider challenging something with greater difficulty.”
Vivian’s Music Teacher dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief as she spoke. This emotionally sensitive instructor shed tears of admiration each time Vivian finished a piece.
Vivian, her cheeks flushed with shyness at the praise, opened her mouth.
“Thank you. I’d love to tackle the next piece soon, but it seems I won’t be able to for a while.”
“My! Do you have business in the Capital again?”
Vivian was a conscientious student. Except for the two or three times a year she traveled to the Capital, she never missed a lesson.
When her teacher expressed confusion at this unusual timing, Vivian’s face flushed as she explained.
“Well, I’ve received an invitation to a petit débutante ball! So there’s much to prepare. I need to practice dancing more diligently, and there are so many other things to do.”
“My! Congratulations, Young Lady Vivian. I see. So you’ve already reached that age….”
The teacher, who had been instructing Vivian since she was nine years old, became emotional again, this time holding the handkerchief to her eyes for longer. After composing herself with a few dabs, she spoke with a smile.
“Lord Jean de Lamber will need to steel himself.”
“What? Father?”
“Once Young Lady Vivian appears at the ball, every boy there will fall for her. I imagine he’ll worry whether some unsuitable fellow might try to approach you.”
Vivian burst into laughter. This teacher certainly gave generous praise.
“Everyone falling for me? That can’t possibly be true.”
“Can’t possibly be true, you say!”
The Music Teacher spoke without a hint of jest.
This young lady had grown up seeing only her father’s face, so she didn’t realize how extraordinarily beautiful she was.
Of course, she understood how it came to be. When she first saw Jean de Lamber, she thought her eyes would roll sideways from secretly admiring that face. And now, with the added composure and presence he’d gained, his charm had doubled.
Since she resembled that father so closely…
Her pale pink hair, carefully maintained and soft as silk, paired with rabbit-like gentle features. That doting father would surely dress her in the most beautiful and finest gowns.
Even without such things, from the moment this young lady revealed herself at the ball with her flawless bright smile and fairy-like grace, people would speak of nothing but her.
Moreover, according to her dance instructor, she had talent in dancing as well—truly dancing like a fairy.
A bright future awaited where suitors would wear down the threshold of this house with their visits.
Suitors. Suitors, indeed.
“Vivian. Remember this above all else.”
The Music Teacher, a skilled educator summoned to various noble households and privy to countless scandals, grasped Vivian’s hand firmly.
How many women had she witnessed squandering their lives over the wrong man?
She had no desire to watch this kind and innocent student suffer at the hands of some worthless scoundrel.
“Never settle for a man less handsome than Lord Jean de Lamber. Never settle for a man poorer than Lord Jean de Lamber. Never settle for a man with a worse temperament than Lord Jean de Lamber.”
“Ah, even worse than Father?”
Vivian’s eyes widened in astonishment.
Wasn’t that essentially telling her not to meet anyone at all?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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